The nation of 9/10/01 remains under rubble

In the days running up to the 23rd anniversary of Sept. 11, 2001, there was a meme circulating on Facebook that advised: “The best way to honor those lost on 9/11 is to be the people we were on 9/12.”

That seemed odd to me, although, after a bit more contemplation, I understood the message: On the day after terror attacks vanquished 2,996 unsuspecting Americans this nation was as united as we have ever been, before and certainly since.

It is a satisfying sentiment delivered when I believe this nation is as divided as it has ever been. Yes, we have been a 50-50 nation before and often, but in my lifetime, I have never seen the level of vitriol on display that is evident every day on social media, for me Facebook. There is an abundant number of my Facebook friends who are eager to post political thoughts that they know will anger and alienate not only friends and neighbors but family members, and from there it goes south.

It is one thing to differ politically, but it is much worse to be constantly prowling and poking.

I embrace and highly recommend spectator status.

Like you, I remember well where I was on Sept. 11, 2001, and I am unsure if it seems like a long time ago or just yesterday; I do know the time elapsed is fully a third of my life.

It was a beautiful Tuesday morning in Robeson County, and I and my staff were putting the final coat on that day’s edition of The Robesonian. Debbie, from composing, walked into my office and shared that a plane had crashed into one of the World Trade Centers, which I figured was a small craft and either a bad accident had occurred or a suicide.

When Debbie returned to say a second tower was hit by a plane, a commercial jet airliner, I knew, and began the task of dismantling and rebuilding Page 1A. My second thought was that America as we had known her would be buried in the rubble.

The news, which we all watched in real time, only got worse as the number of dead, maimed and otherwise injured spiraled north.

While I do remember America collectively holding hands on the Day After 9/11, I know as well that we were an angry nation, one eager for revenge, feeling vulnerable, uncertain about the future, and all in mourning – most of which I certainly do not want branded into our nation’s fabric for perpetuity.

I submit that it is difficult to untangle today’s America from the events of Sept. 11, 2001. We have become a nation of scorekeepers, with half the nation anxious to pin any act of terror on Muslims and half hoping the perpetrator was a white, Christian redneck wearing a MAGA hat. We count the lies of our opponent and ignore the lies our guy or gal told.

If you want the border tightened, you hate people of color; if you want the door of opportunity ajar, you only want the votes.

If you take the shot, you are a stooge; if you do not, you are a public health threat.

Those with whom we differ are now racist, misogynistic, xenophobic, homophobic, communist, socialist, idiotic, anarchic, freedom haters – not simply wrong. Our default position is to assign the most sinister motive.

In my mind, there is no distinction between these people, even if they occupy opposite corners.

So, what united us for a flash, has divided us at least up until now. Osama bin Laden, dead and consumed by oceanic bottom dwellers, in that respect is still winning.

I believe the Facebook meme was wrong, and it should have read like this: “The best way to honor those lost on 9/11 is to be the people we were on 9/10.”

The America of 9/10 remains under the rubble.