By Rick Morris
NOTE: This is a reprint of my
9/11 10th anniversary column of a year ago.
Although I love to write, I’m
not huge on writing about anything involving my own life. It feels
self-indulgent, although I don’t judge others who do and who feel that their
own experiences are universally enthralling. Maybe they are. Point is, I’m not
somebody for whom this comes naturally, so it must carry more authenticity when
I do this. And authenticity is what we are all about in The FDH Lounge.
When I say that I had a
unique 9/11 story, it feels wrong, because it wasn’t tinged with heroism or
terror or any of the wild swings that those directly involved felt on that day.
For example, my partner The FDH New York Bureau Steve Cirvello was on the ferry
that day on his way to work when the planes hit the tower, while his wife was
home pregnant with their child. Now that’s somebody who was connected to the
events way more than I was that day.
Nonetheless, my story seems
like it was a bit more out of the ordinary than those all across the country
who went to work that day, were sent home when the panic hit and watched the
rest of the coverage on TV.
Earlier that year, the road
to creating FDH started in earnest when I met Nate Noy in the keeper league
baseball draft that I entered. I joined him as a partner in Drafthelp.com (the
mothership that FDH subsequently spun off of five years later) and I began
working with him on the main Drafthelp project of the time, the book STRANDED:
A GUIDE TO LIFE WITHOUT MAJOR LEAGUE BASEBALL. We self-published this
book as a means for baseball fans to get through what was to (supposedly)
become the MLB lockout.
All through the summer, I
worked on my parts of the book and Nate got his done. He had set a deadline of
September 15 with the publisher we retained for the book to be finished.
It was my job to edit his
work as well as to write my own (my mother also edited my work and performed
extra duty editing Nate’s and it was a thrill for me to involve her in a book
project in some way, which I didn’t even know until later had been a
long-deferred goal of hers). Suffice to say that I got Nate’s copy in early
September and it required a lot of rewrite. Now, Nate is the most brilliant
person I’ve ever met, so it really chapped my a%& to have to rewrite as
much of his material as I did! When I complained to him, he proved yet again
how much smarter he was than me, laying on the Uriah Heep act about how he was
sorry that his rural Ohio education didn’t prepare him for this and that I had
graduated from one of the top journalism schools in America. As intended, I
felt badly for him and that I had apparently made him feel bad. It wasn’t until
we hung up that I remembered his excellent liberal-arts undergrad education,
his law degree and the MBA that he was pursuing and realized how badly he
hustled me yet again!
I remember like it was
yesterday going over to my parents’ house for dinner on Sunday, September 9
with my laptop and complaining that I would never get everything done by
Friday. My dad advised me in his usual common-sense manner that I’d have to
take a day off of work to do this. Fortunately, I had a few vacation days
banked, but I said, “It would be too much of a hassle to take off tomorrow.
I’ll work tomorrow and let them know I’m going to take off Tuesday.”
And so it unfolded.
I stayed up late Monday night
editing and watching the Monday Night Football season opener (I am a huge
multi-tasker!), knowing that I’d have the luxury of sleeping in on Tuesday.
Somewhere in the 9 AM EDT hour, I woke up to the local sports-talk station on
my clock radio. I hit the sleep button, thus buying nine extra minutes.
Those nine minutes symbolized
the before and after moments of 9/11 perfectly.
Because that station was an
ESPN affiliate, that also meant somehow that they had access to other
properties under the Disney banner like ABC News. I re-awoke nine minutes later
to Peter Jennings talking about major damage to the World Trade Center towers.
What was going on?
I stumbled, bleary-eyed into
the living room, flipped on CNN and saw a split-screen image of what was to
become Ground Zero and the crash at the Pentagon site. Welcome to the chaos of
the day and what was to become the “new normal” of post-attack America.
I tried to edit our book that
day, but I was in a daze. I was on the phone with friends and family
throughout, trying to make sense of everything. I went over my parents’ house
for part of the day as well. My mom was convinced that there had to be
explosives in the Towers to bring them down, as it was not commonly understood
at the time just what the flaming jet fuel was capable of under the
circumstances (and regrettably, there are still “Truthers” out there who would
give credence to my mother’s initial guess, but that’s another story for
another time).
I consider copy-editing to be
among my biggest professional strengths, so it’s a testament to the shock of
that day that so much slipped past me. It’s an equal testament to the
superhuman qualities of my mother that she caught – that very day, mind you – so
many errors that I’m convinced never would have gotten by me if I was in a
normal frame of mind. I’ll never know how she did it, but she ensured that the
book was completed in a fashion that would do us all proud.
Fortunately, we had absorbed
the lesson in priorities that the day rammed home so forcefully, because we
weren’t even mad when the premise of the book vanished with the violence. MLB
and the players, cowed by the prospect of a baseball shutdown after the
unthinkable shock to America’s system, papered over their differences and
subsequently put together a status-quo preserving agreement (thus ratifying the
growing payroll imbalance and punting on steroid testing for many years, but
again, another story for another day). So we lost our chance at helping
baseball fans fill a void during a work stoppage that most certainly would have
come otherwise. How could we complain when others had lost so much more?
There was much talk that day
and in the days to come about not forgetting 9/11 and not allowing our mindset
to go back to what it was before. I have taken that seriously in the last ten
years, believing security issues to be paramount. From my paleocon political
perspective, the most tragic byproduct of the Iraq War was the fact that the
false pretences of the conflict allowed for so many to “throw out the baby with
the bath water” on the need to take all necessary measures to protect our
country and its vital interests.
But some hopeful signs have
blossomed over a period of time. The spontaneous demonstrations of national joy
– the “We Got Him!!!” wave of positivity – however short-lived, proved that we
could rally around a common purpose again. Additionally, the continuing use of Guantanamo Bay and the drones by the Obama Administration have
restored a much-needed bipartisan consensus on doing whatever it takes to keep
this country safe by whatever means necessary. Believe me, I’m not a fan of
this administration, but I always give credit where it is due.
On this tenth anniversary of
the definitive before-and-after day of our lifetimes, reflect on what the day
taught us about the extremes, the best and worst of humanity on display
side-by-side. Remember the innocents who died, the heroes of Flight 93 who
resolved to limit the damage caused by their plane even as they proceeded with
their own death sentence and the heroes who worked to rescue the victims – with
many of them ending up laying down their own lives in the name of duty.
Remember the effectiveness of those who worked to save others in the Twin Towers -- it's a miracle the death toll wasn't into five
figures. The 9/11 Digital Archive is especially useful for restoring the vivid
images of the day and the time. We must always remember that life is comprised
of equal parts what happens to you and what you do about it and that you always
need to process events to take a step forward. If you don’t think in the long
run that 9/11 affected you, then you are dead wrong, because it affected
everyone. If you take some inspiration from the bravery and goodness that was
all around in America’s darkest moment and you can do some good as a result
of that, then nobody died in vain. We owe those who didn’t make it out of that
day nothing less than that.
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