9/11 Passages

The other day my 11 year old grandson, Ian, for no particular reason, started to build a PowerPoint presentation.  At first, I was amused that he was inputting photos and clip art more easily than I type my name.  My jealously raged as I thought back to my days as a speech writer and my then severe need for technical assistance.  But soon enough, my thoughts changed to what had compelled this lovely, happy child to do this?

Ian was still a year removed from his debut on the planet when those planes skewered the Twin Towers along with millions of American hearts.  Thus, his knowledge of the event is limited to history books, family member accounts and annual commemorations.  Nonetheless, the tragedy is one of the primary historical contexts of his life.  What World War II was for our parents and Vietnam was for us baby boomers, 9/11 is for him and his ilk.  For him, the wars in Iraq and Afghanistan are box cars behind the locomotive that was the disaster at Ground Zero. 

All this troubled me until I thought about it.  On one hand, my precious grandson has had to grow up in the shadow of an attack on our very shores, in the very big city near where he lives.  Like those of us during the cold war, yet with more verifiable reality still fresh in the rear view mirror, he has had to look up at the skies and wonder.  We were schooled to get under our desks at the sound of a siren.  These kids today have had to accept that there will no warning and that the end may come from anywhere and at anytime from angry boogeymen who hate us.  The good news is that this has not affected their sense of well being.  The good news is all together American and hopeful.

Our children and grandchildren do not labor under the delusion that we will live forever, or that an attack on our soil is unthinkable.  Like so many Europeans, Asians and Africans, they are growing up with a more realistic view of a world that they actually fear less.

As it turns out, Ian is building his presentation to honor those who lost their lives, at the same time he celebrates his love of New York City and America.  I should have known.  He has spent many of my dollars on trips to Manhattan, his interest first sparked by the prominence of the calamity.  He loves the new World Trade center complex, and will be at its observation deck the day it opens, surely, on my dime.  We have been to the site many times, as we have also at the empire State Building. This young man intuitively understands why New York was targeted.  It is majestic, beautiful and impossible to defeat.   From the Battery to the Cross Bronx, it is the greatest city on earth, and the beating heart of our country.

Twelve years after that heart beats loud and clear.

I have always loved my grandson.  But today I am proud of him in a special way.  He knows the hard realities and knows that life has no guarantees.  He knows that the center of things is also a target of things.  He is unafraid.  More importantly, he is drawn to beating heart that is New York City.

Condolences to all who lost loved ones on 9/11, and thanks to the first responders.  Your legacy is that America’s next generation carries the torch without flinching.