Micah September 11th

There Are Planes Falling Out of The Sky

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“Fragile as a leaf in autumn
Just fallin’ to the ground
Without a sound” – Norah Jones, Seven Years

Today is September 11, 2008. I tweeted this morning that it would be interesting to hear where people were on September 11, 2001.

And people remembered. And not in a vague, I remember when way, but in an exact, Kennedy assassination way.

I remember.

I remember that I woke up that morning groggy eyed and cob-webbed brain. I walked to the door of my room hearing my roommates shuffling about. As I opened the door, one of my roommates, Allison, saw me, and said:

“There are planes falling out of the sky.”

“What the hell,” was my first reaction as I tried to make sense of her words.

“There are planes falling out of the sky,” she repeated.

Grumbling, I walked over to the TV in my room, and flipped it on to CNN.

And a plane smashed into the side of the World Trade Center.

I sat down on my bed. “Damn, she is right,” I thought to myself.

“Strange how a mind can always recall
What the senses eagerly leave behind
I can remember his face, rage,
Disgust and distaste
But to my fear I have grown blind” – Cowboy Junkies, Seven Years

I sat in my room listening to the newscast. Listening to my roommates talk about how the terrorists were coming. Listening to words about war.

“What about the Bay Bridge? We shouldnt go to work! San Francisco has to be next!” and other such invectives were uttered in the conversation.

And time continued on.

By the early afternoon, when it was clear that there would be no more planes falling out of the sky, the conversation shifted.

“Why hasnt California been attacked?”

Of course, there were scares

“The Bay Bridge is going to blow!”

But partly because of the distance, and partly because of the pride, the feeling in California shifted.

“We are good as New York! Why were we spared?”

Over the ensuing days, the sentiment continued to grow, and over time, while there was still plenty of empathy and respect for the cleanup effort in NYC and the men and women who parished.

But, for me, the indeliable mark left seven years ago, was the intense sadness of watching, literally watching, 3,000 people die before my eyes, and the somewhat hidden befuddlement of the people around me as to California’s place in the world’s eye.