Creative exercise: provide your personal perspective on a well-known public event. Prosthetic memory has been utilised for this exercise.
10 September 2001 (NZ time)
8.30am
Unreal. On my way to the kitchen
this morning as I passed the television I saw something I won’t ever
forget. There on the screen before me was
the World Trade Centre with its top levels engulfed in flames. I was initially confused. What was going on? Then a plane flew in from the edge of the
frame and collided with the second tower.
Horrified I think is the only word to describe how I felt; my skin began
to prick and goose bumps spread over my arms.
In a solemn tone, a news reader informed me that two planes had
collided with the twin towers, endangering the lives of thousands. Whilst I knew this was real, at the same time
it was hard to believe this was wasn’t a SciFi movie from Hollywood. How can so much have happened since the time
I went to bed last night to the time I got up this morning?
The World Trade Centre event became a key topic of conversation in the
salon today. “How devastating”, “Those
poor people….”, “Death toll is rising…”, “two more planes crashed…” and similar
comments reverberated around the salon as clients flowed in and out of the
salon doors. As the day lingered on and
my clients heard more news reports over the radio, I gathered more updates from
them on what was happening in New York.
Words like “terrorists”, and “hijacking” were introduced into discussions.
I have to admit, I felt guilty on the few occasions that I laughed today, as if
doing so meant I was overlooking the suffering of others. Consequently I prayed at regular intervals
for all those who were injured and those who had lost loved ones. What else could I do?
Inside my head I also quietly wondered if this was a sign the last days
were upon us. An extremist militant
group chooses a nation that proclaims to be under God as its victim to
attack. Sure, there are always
underlying political reasons, but to me this isn’t simply about flesh and
blood, but about that which is unseen.
The six o’clock news on TV3 provided extended coverage of the site where
the two planes collided with the twin towers.
The tower contained 50,000 workers.
Police, fire fighters and military worked tirelessly to bring aid to
victims and (no doubt) remove bodies from the rubble.
The pain in the voices of those who had witnessed the event or who had
escaped from the building just in the nick of time made my eyes prick with
tears and my throat tighten. Their lives
were changed forever because of the actions of a few. It sounds selfish, but I’m being to feel glad
I live in New Zealand. Perhaps there are
certain benefits to belonging to a small and distant country that doesn’t have
the same power in the world that the United States does.
Victims were also given coverage on the news. One girl didn’t seem to have any idea she was
wounded despite being covered in blood.
She relayed to the reporter the details of the moment it happened and
how she’d managed to escape from the building.
She was overwhelmed (“what do we do now?”) by the goings on and the
fastness of the tragedy. To her, it
didn’t come down to her physical injury.
She didn’t appear to know she was in pain; she seemed to be in shock. I guess she is one of the lucky ones because
she has survived, but I still felt really sorry for her. If she worked in the building, she probably
had colleagues who potentially weren’t so fortunate.
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