20 years minus 1 day
Today is September 10, 2021. It is 19 years and 364 days since nearly 3,000 people died in a series of coordinated attacks on the United States.
I reserve tomorrow, the actual 20-year marking of this anniversary, for reflection and remembrance. But today, September 10, 2021, is a sparkling September reminder of the day that overwhelms many of us with sadness.
The photograph above was taken this morning as I walked by the University of Massachusetts Lowell memorial to alumni whose lives were cut short by the events of September 11, 2001. It is a naturally somber and quiet place that overlooks the rapids on the Merrimack River near the Northern Canal. There, engraved in granite, are the names of some UML alumni, some of whom were studying on campus at the same time as I.
On September 10, 2001, those whose names are etched in granite may have been anticipating a trip for leisure or business early the next morning. Maybe they were at the office tying up loose ends, preparing for meetings, or even on their farmland. They would be anticipating the next day and beyond; looking toward the future.
Today I also remember September 11, 2001. It was a beautiful bright September day with a sky so blue it hurt my eyes to look at it. I was excited to be teaching in a second grade classroom again after having been a more itinerant specialist for the previous five years. As a new staff member at my school, I was just getting to know my grade level colleagues.
On this September morning, I was administering a reading assessment to individual students in the hallway while a colleague worked with the rest of my class on reading. Twenty years later, I am still able to bring up the sounds of the nearby classrooms working. The calm and quiet hum of routines were the last I remember before 8:45 am.
When my partner teacher stepped out into the hallway and whispered into my ear what had just occurred, I didn’t believe him. I didn’t believe him 17 minutes later when the second plane hurtled into the South Tower either. But by the end of the school day, it was clear: what seemed outrageous and impossible was indeed fact. We were instructed to keep our emotions under wraps and not share the events with our young students so that their parents could speak to them and comfort them. I don’t remember how we got through the rest of the school day, but I can recall the deep feeling of sadness.
When I retired in 2014, we traveled to New York City on another beautiful September day. We made certain to stop at the 9/11 Memorial which was, at that time, not fully completed. What was striking was the absolute, reverent and profound silence as people milled around the Memorial.
Today, September 10, 2021 marks 19 years and 364 days since those attacks. Tomorrow there will be many events and ceremonies marking this anniversary. I, too, will take a more than a moment to think of what happened on that day, but most of all to think of the 3,000 lives lost on that day, and the many impacted by those losses; the unfulfilled legacies and ordinary lives of extraordinary humans lost forever.
When one reaches un certain âge, the realization dawns on you that the past is measured in events; the moment you meet your true love, graduation, your child's birth, a parent's death.But time is also measured by events of such great historic proportion that you can remember with clarity where you were and what you were doing. We mark time by the events of historic proportions. The events mark us with changes too.On November 22, 1963, I was in sixth grade at Huron Junior High. We had an "honors" study hall which was about anything but studying. If you can imagine it, a group of sixth grade students were allowed to sit in a classroom