My last post referenced 9/11. It will soon be twenty three years since that terrible episode. I can totally understand why blogmate Steve Reed still feels uncomfortable about referencing that day for he was living in New York City at the time. Even now the very thought of it must be laced with concrete dust.
It is often said that we all remember where we were when momentous events took place. I was forty seven years old and The Head of English in a tough secondary school in North Sheffield. September 11th, 2001 was a Tuesday and after the schoolchildren had gone home I had to attend a senior leaders' meeting in the conference room on the first floor of the main block.
Of course in those days nobody had smartphones and to catch up with the latest news you would have had to turn a television or a radio on. But such actions did not happen in senior leaders' meetings. We proceeded through the heavy agenda and the meeting probably ended around 4.45pm.
It was time to head home. I descended the stairs and I remember a colleague who had not been in the meeting telling me that something terrible had happened in New York - a plane had flown into a skyscraper. It was of course all very confused at first.
It took me less than half an hour to drive home - past the Sheffield Wednesday football ground then along Penistone Road before heading up to Walkley and then further up the hill to Crookes via Greenhalgh Street. Over to Manchester Road and then down Shore Lane to Fulwood Road. Past Endcliffe Park and then up Peveril Road to Banner Cross where we still live.
When I arrived home, my family were glued to the television in the corner, watching events live from New York unfolding. A lot of confusion remained but what we were looking at seemed horrific - like a disaster blockbuster film transferred to real life. And then The South Tower collapsed, followed half an hour later by The North Tower. Breathtaking horror in front of our eyes.
It was clearly not an accident because not one but two planes had been steered into the twin towers of The World Trade Center. It had to involve hi-jackers - probably Islamist terrorists. And I remember feeling astounded that anyone could deliberately throw their own life away like that to achieve such a terrible goal. After all - life is precious isn't it? Don't we all want to live long lives that contain as much joy and happiness as possible? Why end it that way and for what? For what? It just didn't make sense.
America had seemed impregnable while other countries repeatedly endured the pains of conflict and terrorism. But 9/11 revealed that America was also vulnerable to bitterness and revenge. It was not immune. And wasn't that also part of the shock of it all?
In the days that followed I watched a lot footage as the truth of what had really happened began to emerge from the dust. Wickedness had indeed been wrought upon New York by deranged Islamic terrorists. Were they really human? Ironically, The World Trade Center accommodated people from all over the world - the clue was in the name. So this was not just an attack on America, it was an attack on the western world as a whole.
Never such innocence again.
If you feel like responding, where were you when 9/11 happened? How did you feel?
from Yorkshire Pudding https://ift.tt/AQ8JVrc