Remembering September 11, 2001: The Last Day of Generation Y
Growing up and listening to the war stories of both my grandfather and father were always a treat. Both World War II and the Vietnam Wars seemed to define the Greatest Generation and the Baby Boomers. These world events left their marks on how American culture grew sometimes for the better of the nation and sometimes for the worse. However, despite the grand events which often spanned years there are only few times in history which a member of any generation can describe in great detail the impact a single day of tragedy had on them.
For my grandfather there were two dates. These were the bombing of Pearl Harbor which drew America into WWII and the bomb dropped on Hiroshima which lead to the end of WWII. Both dates my grandfather could desribe in great detail. For my father, a day that has been etched permanently in his mind was the assassination of President John F. Kennedy. He was only thirteen at the time but can remember the song that my grandmother was playing in the car on the way to school, his teacher?s reaction to the news and even how she addressed the classroom word for word. It’s truly amazing how such historical events in time can be remembered so visibly when quite frankly they might be memories we would all want to forget.
As a teenager I often wondered what event would define my generation. I remember when the Berlin Wall fell which signaled the end of communism. The day Kurt Cobain committed suicide was spent comforting my girlfriend at the time. I recall the speach made by George H.W. Bush which signalled the beginning of Operation Desert Storm. I even recall some of President Clinton’s speech addressing the media concerning his in discretions with Monica Lewinsky. However, none of these defined Generation Y like the events which transpired on September 11, 2001.
My day began like many times over as a college undergrad: on my couch in front of the TV. I had always had the habit of staying up late and eventually passing out on my couch while leaving the TV on usually to something mind numbing like MTV. As my eyes slowly opened I saw the North Tower of the World Trade Center set ablaze.
I sat up quickly and realized a good friend of mine who attended the University of Chicago was interning at the WTC complex but I wasn’t sure which building. Their semester started later than most and she was still in NYC. With my eyes glued to the TV set I began reaching for my phone when out of nowhere another plane struck the other Tower. At this point a serious shock of dread rocketed through my spine and I knew this was not an accident. For a second I was frozen and not able to react to what I had just seen. This soon passed and I quickly found her name in my phone and hit the call button over and over again but all I got was dead air. Cell phones were not working.
I then rushed out of my room and tried using a regular phone but it said all circuits were busy. Feeling helpless I dashed over to my girlfriend’s apartment because her parents lived on the Upper East Side of Manhattan and I was honestly worried about her. I rang her buzzer and when she answered the door she was crying and embraced me. I could feel her trembling in my arms and all I could do was hold her close.
We sat down on the couch with our eyes fixated on the burning Towers like moths to a flame. Frantically she was trying to call her parents and I was trying to desperately reach my father and dear friend at the WTC complex with no success. However, nothing could compare to the deadful images I saw next.
A third plane had just struck the Pentagon. Everything went silent and I had a quick flashback to the day when my mother died. The face of the police officer bringing the bad news and the look of remorse on his face when he heard the voice of a young four year old boy ask "Does he have mommy daddy?" She was gone. I snapped back to reality and as tears began to well in my eyes I slowly said to my girlfriend, "My father works there."
I just went numb as I watched my worst possible fear being broadcast live right before my eyes. Growing up with only a father he becomes your life. Now I might face the harsh reality he is was burning inside the Pentagon. "Why me" I kept saying aloud over and over again as my numbness began to give way to shear panic. The rest of the day I do not remember.
As you can see 9/11 hit very close to home without any pun intended. Fortunately, out of all the worry and despair both my father and dear friend were safe and out of harms way. However the vivid images of the day’s events will never leave my memory. This cool crisp autumn day I spent in Madison will never be forgotten because quite frankly I thought I had lost my only parent and close friend. I guess you can say luck was on my side that day.
From this time forward I had a changed outlook on life. I felt the lowest of lows and the highest of highs. I saw images which were beyond imagination and for the first time in a long time I cried. As sad as 9/11 was I could feel for the first time what it is was like to truly be a proud American patriot. Watching the images of the American flag being hoisted up over the rubble of the buildings which once defined the skyline of the great New York City gave me confidence that despite the events that had just transpired, our country would rise to the occasion. My generation now had a place among history just like my father and his grandfather.
9/11 was the last day of the Generation Y’s reign. Our generation saw the advent of cell phones and instant-messenger. We were the first generation to ride the information technology highway all the way to a Starbucks coffee on every corner. It was our generation who first waved their hands through the air like acted we didn’t care. Biggie and Tupac died on our watch and Eddie Vedder teamed up with the late Kurt Cobain to show America that teenage angst was a force to be reckon with.
We shed the blankets of the Cold War and and addressed Global Terror while rump shakin’ to Bombs Over Baghdad. We watched the dot.com bubble burst to give to rise American Idol. In this Generation Y’ers mind we put our stamp on history with touch of drama, while wearing way too much bling. For the first time Generation Y truly identified with the concept of America and the cost of freedom.
