September 11th, 2001

I don't know why I got up early that day. I didn't have to work. No errands to run. I should have slept till noon but I was up bright and early around 8:00. So I slid into my usual morning routine. A little wake and bake. I decided to turn on the radio to listen to "The Bob and Tom Show". A typical syndicated morning show. Very funny. They were discussing the possibility of seeing their female newsreader in lingerie when one of them interrupted to announce a plane had hit the World trade Center. It was about 8:50. They immediately began speculating on what could have happened. An accident was the most voiced opinion and a few jokes followed which, on any other day, would have been hilarious.

I turned the TV on and switched to the news just in time to see the second plane hit the South Tower. My heart sank. I knew immediately what was happening. Something I thought I would never see. We were being attacked. I sat down, fell down really, into my chair. Dumbstruck. My first thought was, "How?" followed immediately by the realization that thousands of people occupied those buildings. How many of them have already died? How many more will follow them? Then the thought of more planes jumped into my head. Was that it? How many more planes have they taken over? Is this nation wide? HOW THE FUCK IS THIS HAPPENING?! I was living with my brother and he got home about that time. I was upstairs and didn't even hear him come in. Then I heard,” Holy Shit!' come from downstairs.

We talked briefly but I can't remember exactly what was said. He still didn't fully believe this was an attack. Then they hit the Pentagon. It was 9:37 A.M. on a beautiful September day and it was now absolutely clear that Americans were being murdered. I wanted to pick up the phone and call everyone I knew but I couldn't leave the TV.  I wish I had. Just for a moment. Most stations stayed with a continuous shot of the burning towers. People started jumping thousands of feet to their death. What choice did they have? The agony of burning alive or a quick end on the concrete below. People say that violence on TV desensitizes us to real violence. Real suffering? There’s no desensitizing that. I'll never get that out of my head. Never. I can only pray for the mercy of Alzheimer’s.

Then the first tower fell. A giant column of Hell, crashing down on the streets below. I don't know which was more disturbing: the image or the sound. Together it was too much. I had to turn it off. I didn't turn it back on. When the radio announced the second tower had fallen, I just put my head in my hands and cried. Not a big blubbery cry, but the eyes were red. The tears were falling from my cheeks. I was 21. Thought I was a tough motherfucker who didn't care about shit. I cried for the people lost that day. They were my countrymen, my brothers, and they died for no reason. At that moment, I would have burned the Muslim world to take vengeance. I wanted blood.

September 14th, 2001. President Bush gives his "Bullhorn Address" at the rubble of Ground Zero. I was not very political at the time. I knew some dirty dealing had gotten the man elected but at that moment I did not care. "The rest of the world hears you! And the people who knocked these buildings down will hear all of us soon!" I applauded. Alone in a room, I applauded. I was the biggest Bush fan on Earth. I wanted action and he did too. I spent the rest of the day watching beautiful tributes from countries all around the world. God bless America.

October 7th, 2001. The invasion of Afghanistan. Even then I knew it was an invasion. I knew what wars were and this wasn't a war. We were going in to find Bin Laden and his collaborators. No one was going to stop us. I thought, "How long could it possibly take to find this guy?" Turns out he might not have ever even been there. Months passed with no sign of him. Many began questioning whether or not he is even there anymore. I, too, am losing my resolve. We were there to capture or kill a fucking maniac. Not police another nation. I was already losing my taste for the President and his next move pretty much sealed it.

October 16th, 2002. After months of relentless campaigning, Bush got the war he really wanted. Congress approved funding an invasion of Iraq. I was blown away. Could people not see what was happening here? Everything the administration said had been refuted. Every bit of evidence they had was circumstantial at best. Are people really this fucking retarded? Then I remembered the O.J. trial. Question answered. This was a "holy shit” moment for me. Pretty much the precise time my interest in politics solidified. When a thirst for knowledge of the world, its cultures, and how we affect them began. I was tired of being told what was right. Foolish for ever allowing it. I wanted to decide for myself. I watched a tape of Robert Byrd's address to Congress on the Iraq war that night. An almost empty Congress. I worried for our country's future.

March 20th, 2003. The invasion of Iraq begins. I expect it to be over quickly. Iraq barely has an Army. Who would resist us? Of course, Cheney said we 'd be "greeted as liberators". Still waiting on that, but I knew what this was. It was a takeover. A power grab by American business interests. A farce. We decimated the place. Never any consideration for what would come after. By the time we finally caught Saddam in December, the country he lost was destroyed.

In May, Bush had given his infamous "Mission Accomplished" speech. By December I had grown to hate the U.S. military. In my eyes they had gone from heroes and protectors to the single most powerful force for evil on the planet. I had seen both sides now and our side frightened me much more.

September 11th, 2010. Here we are. Almost a full decade since that day. Nine long, incredibly violent and crippling years.
I feel this whole episode has weakened us. Not strengthened us. That we have taken pain and multiplied it a thousand times and visited it on those who did not deserve it. Invasions that have evolved far beyond their intended purposes. Iraq having absolutely no purpose to begin with. It still troubles me that nearly 20% of people to this day think Iraq had some connection to that tragic event nine years ago.

What is the legacy we have left? Giant military bases rising above ruined homes? What kind of message is that? We accomplished none of our goals. Bin Laden, in all likelihood, is still alive out there somewhere. Democracy in the Middle East is just as much a dream now as it was ten years ago. There are more graves for children being dug than for "terrorists." America is more divided than it has been since the Civil war.

What have we done?

I only hope our children can forgive us. We have left them a broken world. And scattered the pieces to the wind.