The Body of Memories-Why We Need to Remember September 11th
I met a friend recently for lunch at a park near my home, desperate for her company and encouragement. I apologized for my frail emotional state and nearly-in-tears voice. I blamed my four am wake-up call after a sleepless night filled with worry. Her simple response? “You’re exhausted, Jody. No wonder you’re on the brink of tears.”
“Plus, it’s almost September 11th.”
Until she voiced the obvious, I wasn’t aware that September day was weighing on my mind, even unconsciously.
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As a retired educator I am oft-reminded that whether we’re children or adults, we remember:
- 10% of what we hear,
- 30% of what we see,
- 50% of what we see and hear,
- 70% of what we say,
- And 90% of what we DO. (Romain Rolland, 1866-1944).
In other words, our deepest memories are those that come via our body, the muscle, skin and bones that take in those experiences.
In September of 2001 my daughter and I were going to celebrate her graduation from culinary school with a trip to New York City to meet Ruth Reichl, then Editor of ‘Gourmet Magazine’ and author of three of our favorite books. We’d spent five glorious days in and around Brooklyn and the night of Sepember 10th, met my nephew (who worked Downtown) for drinks at Windows on the World restaurant 70 floors up, high above Manhattan.
A tremendous summer thunderstorm came through that night–lightning strikes, rain in buckets, soaking us through. We purchased $5 umbrellas and quickly dried out taking the subway home.
The next morning was the day of our appointment. I remember the voice message, ‘See you at 11 on the 11th,” from Ruth’s assistant. It was a crystal clear, blue sky day, a clean slate filled with promise. Then the earth moved, the sky filled with ashes and paper glitter and we were forever changed.
It is impossible to forget the up close and personal events of that day, which is a gift, really. That fact insures I’ll be able to tell people firsthand about what living through the events of September 11th was actually like, a memory literally cell-deep.
We’re twenty-five years away from the events of that September day and an entire generation of children have no recall of what happened. All they know is what they have heard through secondhand stories, read in a book or seen on the news.
Those of us who physically were present through those traumatic days of terror and fear–as well as heroism and heartache–need to keep the recollections alive. Not simply to recount what has been lost, but because by God’s grace we are still here, while over 3,000 people are not.
Although their bodies are physically no more, their memories live on when we honor that day with what we remember.