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But these are heroes in a trite sense of the word. Something happened
to the word 'hero' on September 11th. It's become synonymous with
the victims of the attacks. We're accustomed to think of policemen
and firefighters as heroes, in a sort of Cops cum Norman
Rockwell way: they pull over stoned gangbangers and rescue cats
from trees. But now they die in a half million tons of rubble because
they were trying to get everyone out, even after they saw the first
tower collapse. There were also people we weren't used to thinking
of as heroes: stock brokers, janitors, bureaucrats in the Pentagon,
and TV producers flying from New York back to LA. Whether there's
anything heroic about dying a senseless death is beside the point.
They mean something to us when we remember them.
The most vividly recalled heroes were the ones whose last words
were carried over cell phones. Madeline Amy Sweeney, who calmly
related details of the hijacking from aboard American Airlines Flight
11 before anyone knew what the hijackers were up to: "I see
water and buildings. Oh my God, oh my God!" The line went dead
as Flight 11 flew into World Trade Center One and September 11 began.
Todd Beamer on United Airlines Flight 93, getting off the phone
with his wife after everyone knew what the hijackers were up to:
"Let's roll..." Moments later, Flight 93 crashed into
a field in Pennsylvania instead of wherever the hijackers were taking
it.
2001 was the collapse of big shiny things: towers, ideas, security.
We're in an economic slump and the shape of the world isn't as comforting
as it used to be. We're scared, angry, sick with sorrow and rage,
depressed and a little poorer. But there's a new core to the national
character that flags on car antennas and the Red Cross' burgeoning
blood supply can only hint at. Something is hurt and awake. 2001
was the catalyst for wherever we take 2002 and the years that follow.
It's not clear yet, but it's new and powerful and it's going somewhere
we haven't been. Let's roll.
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