Speak their names

There’s been a lot of coverage leading up to this day, the ten year anniversary of 9/11, and much of it I’ve ignored. Not because I don’t care but because I felt much of it was an exploitative and sensationalized ploy for ratings or readers. I have openly scorned the march of children who lost their parents on that day in front of cameras as well as the infuriating decision to exclude rescue workers from the memorial dedication (and don’t get me started on refusing health care to these brave men and women). I had grown weary of the way this anniversary was being handled so I was genuinely taken aback by the crushing emotions I had this morning when I flipped on the TV.

A few politicians were speaking at first, President Obama followed by Mayor Bloomberg when I tuned in, and I was half paying attention as they read from the bible and quoted Shakespeare. But then family members of those who lost their lives stepped up to the podium and they began to read the names of the victims. As the minutes ticked away and I realized we were still in the “A’s” (they were reciting the names alphabetically) the numbers started to hit me again. As these people said their relationship to these victims; mother, uncle, sister, son, I was once again struck by the massive loss we faced on this day. And I wept with them, just as I did ten years ago.

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