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JAMIE 2011

When I think about who I am today, in September, 2011, and I ask myself does the person I am have more to do with September 10, 2001 or September 11, 2001, I am disappointed, but not surprised that the answer is mostly the latter, but thankfully some of the former as well.

In the immediate aftermath of the attacks I was determined to not let those events change me, or worse yet, define me (lest the terrorists win, of course), which is why I started The Before Project. But what I wasn’t counting on, because I couldn’t see past my own nose in those days, was how that day would change the world and how hard it would be not to be affected by those changes. With wars in Iraq and Afghanistan, with warrantless wiretapping and CIA secret prisons, with Guantanamo Bay and distinctions between free citizens and “enemy combatants,” with a global economic crises and a national recession (possibly headed for a double dip?), the world we live in has been fundamentally changed by an attack on American soil and therefore so have I.

On a macro-level I am terribly disappointed in my government, and in the world at large, that has met might with might and increased suffering rather than meeting the challenge to increase peace and understanding in good faith. The lies that are told, and the tales that are spun, to support unwinnable wars and erosions of the basic freedoms that make us who we are were given carte blanche by these attacks (and in that way, I suppose the terrorists have won). I took the idea that you could be searched when getting on a New York City subway, without cause, as a personal affront to my liberty and to my American-ness. I still do. The memories of carrying a pocket copy of the Constitution in my bag and wearing my “I do not consent to be searched” T-Shirt may be distant, but they have become a part of me, just as much as the memory of the attacks have.


On a micro-level I recognize signs of PTSD in myself. During the blackout of August 2003, I was out of our office building and headed home on foot so quickly that my co-worker could barely keep up with me. Crossing NYC intersections where traffic lights had failed, I nearly got us both killed, but in the end, I got us home. People at work had followed us into the stairwell (because I wouldn’t stop to talk) to question our sanity and encourage us to wait it out, but all I knew was that I could get home as long it was light out and after that I was in big trouble. Similarly, in March 2009, when a bomb threat was called into the school where I worked, I was six month pregnant, but I was the first one to step off campus, with 400 high school students trailing me. My “fight or flight” instinct leans heavily towards “flight” and I impressed quite a few kids with my ability to waddle quickly that day.

When Saddam Hussein was captured in December 2003 I remember feeling a sense of pride and relief, however, in May 2011, when news came out that Osama bin Laden had been killed, all I felt was dread. Dread for what retaliatory actions might be taken, and sadness for what was happening in the streets: Americans celebrating the death of one individual as if it brought justice. Bin Laden had certainly caused much pain, but in killing him without a trial America lost something, too. In just over 7 years we had gone from being a nation who captured and tried our enemies to a nation who shot first and asked questions later. From a nation who mourned together to one who celebrated the death of one man as if it brought closure. My heart hurt the morning I woke up to that news and then, in a bizarre twist that same morning, there was a bomb threat in our little city in Pennsylvania and the PTSD kicked in all over again.

But even with all the ways that September 11th changed my life and my world, there are many ways in which my life has changed which I do not think are the result of that day. That is to say, even if the attacks had not happened, I think I still would have ended up here: Today I live in a small city in Pennsylvania. I am married to Sam, with whom I watched the towers burn. We have a two year old who is funny and sweet and pretty (and a little bit bossy). My career has moved from theatre and arts education to higher education and then on to secondary education and I have since started and almost completed my Master’s degree. I have lived in 4 apartments since the one we lived in on September 11, 2001 and we now live in a house that we bought several months ago.

In many ways my life feels almost unrecognizable from the life I was living on either September 10th or 11th of 2001 and I have to admit that I can think of only three constants: my friends, my writing and Sam. I am lucky to still have the same close friends I did then; I still use writing to process what is happening around me and give some sort of meaning to things that seem random, difficult or strangely wonderful and I am still with Sam. The romantic, optimistic, hopeful thing to say now is, “I trust that these three things will last.” That is in fact how I ended the first draft of this piece, but in all honesty, I can’t say that. They are certainly the things that have gotten me this far, but maybe one of the things I learned from the attacks and from this project is that it’s really hard to know what each day holds and how extremely different one day can be from the next.


***
To read my thoughts from 2002, click here.

SAM S. 2011

Ten years later, much has changed for me. I am now married with a dynamo of a 2-year-old daughter. I own a house and have a job that I love and at which I excel. Strange though it sounds, these did not seem to be tangibly achievable things back in 2001. Whenever I am required to think back on that time, what I am first and foremost reminded of is how unhappy and unsettled I was and how poorly I knew myself. I have a very different view of myself now. Then, I don't think I liked myself all that much. This spawned much of the unhappiness with my working life, my hopes for the future --however flimsy they were-- and the dark, brooding nature with which I carried myself. Truly, I can't imagine it was all that bad, but in retrospect it certainly seems so.

On the evening of September 10th, 2001, I attended an event for my wife Jamie's work. It was a party kicking off the new theater season. She had just begun working at the theater company, and at the time I was plodding away at a graphic design job I disliked. What I remember most was the weather that evening. It was hot, muggy and eventually stormy. The subway ride into Brooklyn was lurching and steamy. I remember feeling extra-uncomfortable in my clothes. I often felt that way then. I probably got pretty drunk at the party and was sleeping it off, planning to trudge in late to work the next morning, which was also a regular occurrence.

This year on September 10th, I'll likely be spending time with new friends we've made since moving back to the Northeast after spending 3 years in the Los Angeles area. It's important to mention this because I no longer live in New York City. I never imagined leaving New York, especially not in September of 2001, nor immediately afterward. I remember thinking ill thoughts of those who left following the turmoil.

Now I live in Lancaster, PA, a small city with a strong agricultural contingent. Very different from New York. I love where I live, though ten years ago I could never have conceived of living outside of New York happily. Yet I managed to put that mode of thinking aside and move on. As I write this, I have the same impulse about the events and aftermath of Sept 11, 2001. Much will be made of this upcoming ten-year anniversary. I want little to do with it. I want to move on.

***
To read Sam's thoughts from 2003, click here.

SUSAN C. 2011

In anticipation of the 10th anniversary of the September 11, 2001 terrorist attacks on the United States, I’ve attempted to gather my thoughts and answer the questions posed in The Before Project. Ten years can feel like a lifetime or can seem to fly by quickly. From my perspective, the older we are the faster time goes.

For me more things have changed in my life in the last 10 years than have stayed the same. I’ve just completed my 12th year at The Ellis School as the school receptionist and the assistant to our Director of College Counseling. I’m as happy at Ellis now as I was 10 years ago, perhaps even more so, as I’ve become more comfortable in my positions and in my ability to relate to teenage girls.

Since 2001 I’ve moved, lost significant members of my family, gained a son-in-law and a granddaughter, had my daughter and her family move far away from me and then closer, and reconnected with a childhood pal who has become my best friend and partner.

In the next ten years I’m planning to retire, find some volunteer activities, enjoy my family, travel, and enjoy the Florida sunshine.

On September 10, 2011 I will be celebrating with my neighbors at the 33rd annual Severn Street Block Party. It is a joyous occasion when we gather to spend the evening visiting, eating, playing bingo, listening to music, and watching the children have fun. Block parties are such a wonderful American tradition and I’m very glad to be a part of carrying it on.

On September 11, 2011 I will be at home doing my regular weekend chores and activities. I would rather visit the Shanksville site instead. My visit there in 2007 was emotional and inspiring and I’m looking forward to returning when the permanent memorial is finished.

A big lesson I’ve learned as a result of the 2001 terrorists attacks is that not everyone in the world places a high value on human life. There are people who feel honored to die for what they believe in and they indoctrinate their children with those beliefs so that radical fundamental extremism is passed on from generation to generation. If this cycle is not broken, the threat of terrorism will continue to exist and we will never again be able to enjoy the feeling of security we had before September 11, 2001.

***
To read Susan's thoughts from 2002, click here.

KATHRYN McB. 2011

I left NYC and relocated to LA only 9 months after the towers fell. What happened that day certainly didn't drive my decision, but I'd be lying if I said it weren't a factor. I spent a lot of time after September 11th thinking about all of the people who had lived to tell their story because they'd decided to do something slightly different that day. Maybe they slept through their alarm clock and were running late, or they barely missed a train as it pulled out of the station before they could run onto it. I thought about that all the time... probably to the point of obsession. Should I take this train, or wait for the next one? Should I get on the train at Carroll Street, or walk up to Bergen? I dawdled this morning and changed my clothes a few times...Maybe that would make a difference in whether or not I made it home that night.

So when an opportunity to relocate out of NY presented itself, we took it. Not that the same scenarios couldn't occur out here (which freeway should I take? what if there's traffic?), but it just seemed different enough to break the cycle of second-guessing myself all the time. Matt got into graduate school in Los Angeles and I transferred with my company to take on a new role managing people. But before we left, Matt and I got engaged on the ice at Rockefeller Center that Christmas. When I look at the pictures of that day, I'm reminded about September 11th by the American flags that are flying above the rink... normally, flags from all around the world surround the rink.

Since then, we got married and welcomed our two little ladies into the world. Ava (now 3.5) and Maren (6 months). I knew back in 2001 that I wanted to be a mother, so that's not new. I even knew back in 1991. I surely didn't know how much I could love two little beings. Or that I would have a constant source of worry in my life, or that I could ever be so busy. We're still in LA, and likely will be for a while. 10 years from now, though, we'll have a 9th grader and a 6th grader... and maybe even another one not too far behind. My hope is that I will have done a great job raising my family and being a partner to my husband. If my family is together and thriving, that would be my greatest accomplishment.

On September 10th, we'll be together with friends during the day for a play date with our kids, and that evening we have plans to go to a friend's place to open a couple great bottles of wine and relax. I'll be with Matt that night, just as I was on September 10, 2001.

***
To read Kathryn's thoughts from 2002, click here.

NAOMI O. 2011

Naomi is the first person to participate in The Before Project in 2011 that had not previously participated. Naomi and I met in June 1990 when, as my "bus counselor," she was getting over a bad case of the chicken pox. We have since crossed paths several times, finding and losing each other in various cities. Most recently we became mothers around the same time in Los Angeles, CA. She blogs about motherhood here.

On September 10, 2001, I met my friend Katie for dinner after work. Katie and I knew each other from an acting class. Both of us were aspiring writers and comediennes, working to make ends meet by temping in the financial district. At some point, we both caved to rent and bills and took salaried/benefited positions (you know, just for now). She worked at Deutsche Bank, across the street from the World Trade Center, and I at Merrill Lynch, just west of the towers in the World Financial Center.

We often met in the plaza between Tower 1 and Tower 2 for lunch. We sat on benches, lamenting our miserable drone-like existences while eating out of plastic salad-bar containers. This particular evening was different. I was moving to Los Angeles, it was my last week at work, and probably the last meal that Katie and I would share together for a long time.

I have no recollection of where we ate, just that it was north of the Towers. I remember after dinner, we strolled back down empty Church street towards the subway. We gazed up at the quiet buildings, including the omnipresent Towers. Somehow, despite their enormity, they were extremely polite. We were close enough to see the lights inside on the first twenty to thirty floors. The September night air thawed my shoulders from eight hours of air-conditioning. My heart soared with love for New York. I was going to miss this place, a lot.

On September 10, 2011, I will attend a wedding with my husband and two sons in Santa Rosa, CA. I still live in Los Angeles, I'm not acting at the moment, and I've been a teacher, and I stay at home with my kids while I write.

Are these related? Well I suppose you could connect the dots. I am still in California ten years later, where I had planned to move. I continued with my plan even though I was more afraid to do so the next day.

I often wonder what might be different about my life had 9/11 not happened. For me, even though I think of that day frequently, it hasn't changed me or my path at all. Things might be different had I lost someone close to me, or if I had been even closer to the action (no, thank you), but again, hard to say for sure. What I can say is that there is a deep groove carved in my soul for 9/11 and the surrounding days, including and especially, The Day Before.

KATHY S. 2011

Today is September 10, 2011. It is six o’clock in the morning, a time which rarely finds me awake, let alone at my computer. But Jamie has asked for an update for The Before Project with the question “Where are you right now?” I suppose she means “in life.”

I am seventy-one and now have the luxury of sleeping as late as I wish because I no longer have anyone else to be responsible for. My life is easy and filled with simple pleasures : reading books of poetry - sorting through old photographs recalling my very busy years as mother to four precious children, now grown and busy with their own families - walks and talks with dear friends - rereading old letters from my parents written in a time before emails and hurried texts - driving in my car, still listening to Barry Manilow, Billy Joel and Harry Chapin - friends dropping by to say hello - strolling through my little town of Aspinwall where people still sit on porches and wave hello - picking up the phone and hearing the voice of my child or little grandchild - or better yet, visits from those little cherubs.

But now as the time for me to relax has arrived, I observe just how busy the lives of my children have become, juggling their careers, children, pets, homes, family obligations, exercise, social life. There is little time for them to kick back and read poetry, even if they wanted to - which they don’t! Now it’s easier for me to fit into their schedules than vice versa so I find myself traveling often to their four points on the globe, usually by car but occasionally by plane. My daughter’s move to Honolulu quickly eliminated my “shall I drive or fly” dilemma!

Which brings me back to September 10th and how my life has changed in the ten years since 9/10/01. When I go to an airport I still long for the old days, but now find myself wishing my kids could escort ME to the gate instead of having to get hurried hugs from them and little wet kisses from the grandchildren curbside. I still feel a little uneasy as I glance at my fellow passengers, wondering…… I realize I now live with an undercurrent of anxiety. Sadly, since 9/11, I wake up every morning and after uttering a few prayers, instead of listening to birds or to the rhythm of the street, I immediately turn on the television to listen and see if anything horrible has happened while I slept. The sad part now is that the answer to that question is always yes. With two senseless wars continuing in a different time zone, something horrible is always happening all through my peaceful night. Will that ever change?

Please, God, let us find peace and let it begin with me. In my remaining years may I bring a smile to whomever I meet and may I have the courage, like the heroes of 9/11 - both those who died and those who helped - to reach out to others in need, no matter how uncomfortable the situation. Allow that to be the lesson I learned from September 11, 2001.

***
To read Kathy's thoughts from 2003, click here.