Like everybody else, I can remember exactly what I was doing on September 11, 2001 the moment I heard that the first plane hit the World Trade Center. I was working at a bank, sitting in my cubicle, going through my normal routine. A woman I worked with was listening to the radio and she told me what happened. I was suspicious after she told me about the first plane, and obviously, after the second plane hit, we were clearly under attack. Then came news of another highjacked plane, and then another.
I live in Omaha, Nebraska—the same city in which President Bush flew into that day to meet with administration officials and military advisors. As the day progressed, my co-workers witnessed something in me that they hadn't seen before—extreme anger. I was angry at the media for telling the entire world where President Bush was located throughout the day and I was livid at the unknown enemy who chose to attack us.
I rushed home that day to pictures and stories of horror on television. Buildings collapsing, people dying, heroes being heroes, and terrorists being terrorists. For several days I watched and read the news coverage. I cheered when President Bush stood atop a car close to ground zero with his arm around a rescue worker and proudly declared that we would strike back. I've disagreed greatly with the administration's mission creep since then, but that's a topic for another day.
Today, I want to talk about United 93—the movie that is set for release tomorrow. I've seen the trailers, and each time, a sense of dread and helplessness washes over me. Forty ordinary people board a plane one Tuesday morning and soon find themselves caught up in the elaborate plans of a bunch of Islamic thugs. But as we know now, those forty people were anything but ordinary and that's one of the many reasons I want to see United 93. I want to see a re-enactment of their actions and I want to remember who they were.
The movie premiered in New York yesterday at the Tribeca Film Festival and after it was over, this article says that sobs filled the room. I suspect that many such sobs will fill theaters all over the country in the coming weeks. And I think that will be a good thing because we are a people who forget too quickly about the sacrifices that others have made for us.
