Memories are a tricky thing. Frustratingly fallible and easily swayed, I've heard it explained as though every time you're recalling an event, you're actually recalling the last time you've recalled that event - you're remembering a memory. Each time a memory is brought up, details get fuzzier and fuzzier, losing fidelity over time. This is one of the reasons that, for example, criminal lineups are notoriously unreliable.
Memories are also formed around specific events and anchors. This can be utilized and manipulated to your benefit using a Memory Palace. By creating something tangible, your brain will latch on to more and more information, allowing for more clear recall. And, if memories are all we have, isn't recall the best part of anything?
The September 11, 2001 terror attacks on New York City, Washington DC, and Somerset County, PA, became the first of many "Where were you when..." moments for my generation. As I was thinking about writing this article over the past few days, I wound up recalling just how frequently someone asks "Where were you on 9/11?" and how, every single time, I've recalled the events, a few things have gone missing. I know that I've changed details about my memory in an effort to streamline the story or make it better - I know there are details about that day that have simply vanished from my memory. My Memory Palace is the junior high school I was in that day, and the memory anchors are the people in each classroom.
My memories of that day start between first and second hours - walking out of math class and into U.S. History, where the teacher had turned the TV on to check the weather. Other students and I were filtering in, as the TV was going on about how a plane had just hit the World Trade Center. Like so many others (possibly due to the TV coverage), the first plane was thought to be just an accident - there were brief mentions of flight paths over New York, and questions of how a plane (not just any plane, but a jumbo jet) could get that lost to be over a major city center. The class was pretty casual, so as the rest of the students trickled in, the teacher had been telling us what was on TV, and he hadn't yet turned it off (even though it was a few minutes into the designated class time).
That's when the second plane hit. The teacher's tone changed immediately as he dimmed the lights and instructed us to take notes. He said that his job was to teach us history, and that we were witnessing it that day. I remember writing minute-by-minute notes, as the hour wore on, including seeing the first tower collapse. One of my biggest regrets about this school year was throwing out said notebook...and, as an editorial note, this is one of the reasons that I've posted a bunch of "personal opinion" articles on this blog. 9/11, and this teacher's insistence on us taking notes, showed me the importance of locking in your thoughts, feelings, and opinions on historical events so you can reach back later in life, and have some touchstone and reference point (or if not you, your family or friends).
We shuffled out of class - I want to say that the air in the hallway was different, but I honestly don't remember any palpable difference between any other day just yet. The hallway and lunch line (an hour later) was when I remember a distinct difference. But, my third hour class was English, taught by a guy who also taught history classes. With a little bit of cajoling, the students got the teacher to leave the TV on, with the agreement that the volume would be muted, and that the TV would be turned off if we were too distracted. That argument, of course, went out the window when we watched the second tower fall a little later in the hour. I kept on taking notes in my history notebook, using the little news ticker at the bottom of the screen (which was a relatively new feature on cable news networks in 2001).
This is where my memories of 9/11 begin getting fuzzy, and I have to start relying on memory anchors. I remember my fourth hour class was science, and I distinctly remember the teacher refusing to play anything on TV. The memory anchor here is the douchebag who used to pick on me and physically bully me before class - the reason he was able to do so was because we had lunch between third and fourth hour, not between fourth and fifth (as lunch hours were determined by your fourth hour class). After third hour English, I went to lunch - conversations were weird and cryptic, and on to fourth hour science. The guy who sat at the same table chastised me for using the word "awesome" to describe seeing the dust hanging in the air after watching the second tower fall. Not in the context of totally awesome cowabunga dude, but in the context of the dictionary definition: causing or inducing awe; inspiring an overwhelming feeling of reverence, admiration, or fear.
I looked around me and saw prosperity in the Clinton economy - everyone around me was buying boats, hot tubs, lawn tractors. They were upgrading their cars and trucks, buying new homes or adding on to their existing ones. Technology was starting to hit its stride. The promise for a bright future was there. Before the second tower fell, there was hope. There was optimism. We might be able to save the second tower, and move on with our lives. When the second tower fell, all of that changed. It's with 20 years of hindsight that I can fully appreciate how much our world changed as a result of the terror attacks.
I was fortunate to be in a great school system - teachers all along the way made a point to keep us students in touch with the world around us. My 4th Grade teacher had an hour per week set aside to discuss current events and news headlines; we were invited to bring in a newspaper clipping and share our thoughts on it, and ask questions of the teacher. My 7th Grade history teacher (barely a year before) made sure we understood the intricacies and vagaries of the United States Electoral College as we saw George Bush lose the popular vote, but win the Presidency over Al Gore in 2000 (something which has happened only 5 times in the history of the US; 2 of which have been since 2000).
But, understanding the full gravity of a "black swan" event like 9/11 cannot be done on a scale of days and weeks. Understanding something like that takes place over the course of years and decades. I've often wondered if 9/11 would've happened if Gore had won the Presidency in 2000. I still wonder if we'd have had a President Trump if 9/11 hadn't happened. Without a President Trump, we wouldn't be in this epic quagmire of CoVid-19 currently (and I might have had a very different career trajectory, possibly not writing this article right now).
Here's to the 3,000 odd Americans who lost their lives that day; the millions of lives uprooted by military action around the world in response; and to my peers who fought in those military actions, and their buddies who didn't make it home. Love your neighbor as yourself.
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