Almost A Decade Later

It has been almost ten years since my sophomore year of high school, and there is little that I can recall from that year in my life. Mr. Wisecarver was my AP Calculus teacher, and he gave me a lot of crap for being a sophomore. I know it was the year the swim team won Metros, but I was too sick to swim. Overall, I remember very few details, but there was one moment that is still crystal clear.

I remember walking across the quad at Georgetown Prep on a beautiful September day. I entered MacKavanagh Hall just in time for second period. I was initially confused upon seeing my classmates huddled around a television in the back left corner. Our teacher was nowhere to be found, but the ordinary chaos that should ensue without adult supervision was absent. Swendy, a plane has just crashed into the Twin Towers! I remember thinking that the pilot must have fallen asleep because it is impossible to make an error that egregious. You can't miss a skyscraper. I couldn't hear the commentators, but obviously this was big news. I hoped they wouldn't have a problem evacuating the building. The chatter continued around the television until they showed the replay (or at least I thought it was a replay at the time). Surely a second plane, a second pilot, could not have made the same mistake. That was impossible. But upon a second look, there were now two planes and two billows of smoke. The banter stopped completely, as even a bunch of fifteen year olds realized the magnitude of the situation. That collective silence would mark a new beginning to our world. It was our Pearl Habor; our Kennedy Assassination. Nobody in that room would forget where they were on the morning of September 11, 2001.

Part of medical training is learning how to tell patients and their families bad news. Although unfortunate, it is something that no physician can hide from. Whether it is to tell a patient that their newborn is sick or that a parent has died, the news must be delivered empathetically, directly and expertly. Never deliver the news standing up. Always have a chair in the room and sit next to the patient. We are taught that the moment you say, "You have cancer," the patient does not hear a single word thereafter. The patient shuts down. That is the best parallel I can think of to how I felt on September 11th. I remember an administrator briefing the entire school on the intercom: As many of you already know, there has been a terrorist attack on the United States. Anyone who is concerned about a loved one or a family member should please come to the office in Boland, and we will make every effort to contact them for you. It was right after this message that I heard a rumor that a plane was heading for the Capitol. With my mom working just a building away from the Capitol, and my dad not far from there in Northwest D.C., I shut down. While the images from the morning are indelible, the rest of the day went blank.

I stayed up late last night to watch the coverage on the death of Osama bin Laden. It was news I expected to hear years and years ago. I was just relaxing on my bed watching lecture capture when I pulled up the internet. I clicked on NYtimes.com just on a whim. First words out of my mouth were, Oh shit! I immediately messaged everyone on Gmail chat, and ran downstairs to throw on ABC. Obama's speech, young people parading in the streets: a defining moment almost a decade later.

I wish I had blogged or journaled as a sophomore in high school (what 15 year old boy journals, though?), because I would have had a clearer image of the day's events and a more poignant recount of attempting to get a hold of my parents via cell phone. Today, ten years later, my feelings are mixed. For the latter part of my adolescent life and all my adult years, our foreign policy has been absorbed with the War on Terror. Especially growing up in DC, I do not really remember what it was like to live in a world pre-September 11th. While the only thing that is certain is the War is certainly not over, it is an incredibly symbolic event. That amount of evil in the world astonishes me. I was moved to hear President Obama repeat the importance of former President Bush's words, "We are not at war with Islam." Osama bin Laden does not represent the Muslim world. While I don't celebrate murder, I hope the demise of such an evil man will temper all the hate. I am not naive enough to believe it will, but it provides a glimmer of hope.

Our trip to Morocco, Egypt, and Turkey, however, will be revisited in the next few weeks. A bombing in Marrakesh last week killed 15 in a popular cafe in the city, and Egypt is still without a government. Will Osama bin Laden's death spark a violent response? Will tourists become a target for this hate? It is sad to think that the world may not be safer in the next weeks to months.

"Hold to forgiveness, command what is right...turn away from the ignorant." (The Holy Quran, 7:199)