Mara Jevera Fulmer's Blog

For those of us who were conscious and attentive during the fateful events of 9/11/2001, it is hard to fathom that there is nearly an entire generation who have grown up without the emotional connection to the tragedies of that day. For them, there is no “before” and “after” 9/11. But for the rest of us, myself included, much of life is measured in those terms.

I find it happens with life-changing events. We measure life “before” and life “after – the death of a loved one, a major life move like moving overseas – and back again, before children and after their arrival. These are all very personal ways of looking at our individual lives, how we break down time into consumable bits.

But when it comes to the events of 9/11, this is not just personal, this is one that we share. We remember what it was like to go to an airport and travel by air before 9/11. And we know what has changed. TSA didn’t exist before and we didn’t worry about bringing a bottle of water through the boarding checkpoints (since there were no high-tech security checkpoints back then).

Before 9/11, we didn’t concern ourselves with what books we purchased or checked out of a library. But post-9/11, with the advent of the Patriot Act, under Section 215, a library could be subpoenaed to provide details of what books someone checked out in the name of national security.

Yesterday, on the college campus where I work, I sat among administrators, staff, and a few faculty, to honor the 18th anniversary of nation-changing event. Like the annual ministrations of Yom HaShoah, a day of remembrance of the Holocaust, we shared the same message – we shall not forget. But we’re not just remembering the horrific events of that day. We remember the heroes, the selfless demonstrations of human connections, the sharing of kindness, love, and support to our fellow citizens, regardless of color, creed, religion, age, gender, or nationality. We were all just humans that day who needed each other for the silent support of kindness.

As we sat there facing a remnant of one of the structural members of one of the two World Trade Center towers, a large American flag hanging from the extension ladder of a city fire truck, we listened. With us were new cadets being trained as police officers, and our own college police department.

And as we heard the words being spoken, the sound of sirens started. A tingling went up my spine, a memory connecting viscerally to my reaction from the original moment that brought us here. The sirens got louder and I realized it was a true emergency, perhaps another life-changing event for someone in the community. As the sirens reached their peak and began to quiet as they passed by our campus, I thought of how apt their occurrence was. Marking that moment in time when life is measured as before… and after, forever branded in our hearts and minds.