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Of course, everything becomes a cozy narrative in
retrospect... The whole state of affairs made no sense whatsoever on
the morning of Tuesday September the 11th 2001. But then, surely
anything would be making more sense than what was to unfold on our
screens and in our minds on that fateful day...
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I remember that my wife and I awoke from our
peaceful womb encased slumber with an immediate sense of foreboding.
Something was wrong, and, of course, there is no way I expect you to
believe this, but that is how I remember it. As we slumped
downstairs, we turned the TV on straight away. Which is a rarity in
this house, as it's usually the kettle which invariably become the
prime focus of our immediate morning intentions...smell the coffee,
indeed...
For some reason we had both stood in our lounge
trying to take in what was being presented to us on our TV screen,
and as that 'some reason' started to unfold we saw two towers,
instantly recognizable as the world trade center in New York...
And one was on fire...bellowing thick black smoke
over the scene. |
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My sleepy ears manage to home in on the newsreader
as he was saying something about a (passenger?) plane hitting the
tower, and that it was probably a terrible accident... (Thinking
back it's hard to be sure whether the reports to the first plane
strike made any reference to a passenger plane. Memories are funny
things...)
It was
then that my wife and I turned and gave each other the
universally accepted look of "ugh oh!"...Because the
chance of this happening seemed a little odd...we both
sat down on the couch, glued to the box. The two news
presenters were frantically trying to establish what was
happening, all the usual circumspect and speculation,
yap, yap, yap...over the pictures of the tower,
smoldering. It was then that the second plane hit the
building...BOOM! and we both let out a helpless
'yelp'...and thoughts of how "oh no! This is all REALLY
happening"...We turned and grabbed each other, by now,
uncontrollably weeping, embracing, no words. Just a
shared and knowing realization that this could be it.
The big one. World war
III.
And so, there was the inevitable looping footage of
the plane hitting. It became as if 'Die-hard' fanatics had somehow
managed to hack into the TV station to show their favourite bits
from the movie...
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This unrelenting, rolling news seemed almost to be gathering all
those who hadn't seen it yet, around the globe in one big hand of
fate. It had grabbed us...as we sat, now hand in hand...shocked,
terrified and saddened.
Shots of the buildings now both burning and now the ground shots
of the scattering citizens numbed by dust, debris and terror. The
fire and rescue crews desperately and heroically working through the
chaos, trying to deal with the immense realities of the situation.
The blood-lusting camera crews searching for gore...I remember a
black lady in tatters visibly in shock as a crew asked her if she is
bleeding. "You want blood, HERE, here's some blood!" as she lift her
skirt slightly to reveal blood soaked legs.
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It all started to
slowly sink into the rolling vignette of tabloid war reporting,
something now we are all too familiar with. The sight of the debris
falling from the buildings and then the horrifying realization
(something which I believe the news crews started to become aware of
as they were filming it), that some of this 'debris', these
unidentifiable blobs, were actually real people
jumping to their deaths.
On and on it went.
As we sat, taking it all in. My mind went to asking
what 'America' would do...It was too scary...
but I felt justified
about fears of world war and the possibility of extreme retribution.
It was now a totally different planet
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