Sometimes, I wish I lived in a September 10th world, where September 11th was just the day before September 12th.
A world where I didn’t wonder at a permanently altered Manhattan skyline.
Where an ‘I love NY’ shirt was a tourist item, not a symbol of solidarity.
A world where I still didn’t know where Shanksville, Pennsylvania was.
A world where TSA agents didn’t have so much power and the idea of Ziploc baggies and 3-1-1 didn’t exist.
A world where I didn’t keep an eye on planes flying overhead. Still.
A world where I didn’t have to think about our family disaster plan and plastic sheeting and duct tape.
A world where I didn’t see armed police and soldiers, seemingly everywhere.
A world where I wasn’t bound together in a brotherhood of horror. Where terrorist attacks in other parts of the world felt really far away.
A world where I didn’t know how much people hated me because I am an American—no other reason.
A world where terror hadn’t touched me.
A world where I felt safe. Ignorant, of course, but safe.
Lest we forget how it felt. (News reports from the morning of Sept 11th-open in new window)