It was the kind of place with military signs and beer mirrors everywhere and a very popular lottery machine next to our table and a back patio where you can still smoke or vape, but nobody vapes. Some folks came in on bikes and spandex and others in leather and Harleys -- everyone was small town Ohio friendly, and my kids' heads were on a swivel looking at everything and everyone.
Above the bar, there was a remembrance of 9/11: “we will never forget the day the world stopped turning”. My kids asked me about 9/11, mostly just to acknowledge something they know is important to me, and my life. But the sign itself brought me to sadness down memory lane and I started to wonder how long ago that sign was hung up, and who exactly is “we”, and when was the last time anyone thought about that day and the aftermath because of that sign. And if they did, then what?
I sure haven’t forgotten it and if you were alive, you haven’t either. I spent so many years after that day in search of my revenge, same as millions of us, and I’m not sure if any of us got any of it, and I’ve mostly made my peace with that. I don’t feel the same fear or horror or rage that I once felt, and I don’t have the same clarity of purpose that war provides, and I miss that just a bit. Instead, here I am just a guy ordering burgers and fries and sweet tea for my kids and 9/11 reminders are left to signs in bars and in airports, and anniversaries to drive it home, sort of, and it’s left to us all to decide what to do about it, now. Somewhere, though, is hope to be found.
9/11 is becoming more like Normandy to me than a war I fought in. It can still bring me to tears, but the edges are frayed and worn by time. And yet those I served with are always a reminder that this country is built upon service to something greater than ourselves, and that is the lesson I choose to pass on to my kids. Service comes in all different forms, and you don’t have to wear a uniform to do it, but it’s important that someone does. Towers don’t have to fall and bombs don’t have to drop, but you still have to serve something greater than yourself. And yes, you can have a refill, but that’s it for the rest of the day on the sugary drinks, kiddos.
On this day, twenty-four years later, the world keeps turning and we’re still somehow making up for what we lost on that day when it did stop.
May We Never Forget.
- Jason
