Showing posts with label 9/11. Show all posts
Showing posts with label 9/11. Show all posts

September 11, 2026

Twenty-five years later


The horror of September 11, 2001, is not just in the increasing number of Americans who don't remember it because they were too little or hadn't even been born yet. What remains a vivid moment in time for some of us, never to be forgotten, is for others, ancient history. And that's to be expected. Time marches on, after all, and new generations are evolving all the time. 

No, I think for anyone who saw it unfold on television that morning, the true horror is the number of people who simply don't want to know about it, who don't even care. Their actions over the past twenty-five years have spoken louder than any words they may have shared on social media. One need only look at the current mayor of New York City to see how far the memory ball has fallen. 

The governing principle of this website has always been to help people remember. Not just those for whom classic television is a fond memory, a warm reminder of a time that moves away from us at a rate of sixty minutes per hour, but for those who never knew that time. It serves not just as an educational tool ("see what you young whipersnappers have missed!") but as a chance to share moments that should be remembered, that must be remembered if we're to retain any kind of cultural memory at all. 

Increasingly, people don't seem interested in that. If something didn't happen ten minutes ago, and if they weren't around to see it happen themselves, then for them it didn't happen. More importantly, they don't care if it happened or not. Whether they're stupid, willfully ignorant, or simply naive, the result is the same: without an institutional memory, can a country, or a culture, even continue to exist?

I remember where I was on September 11, 2001. I suspect that those of you who lived through that day do as well. That so many young people have never seen the footage of the planes crashing into the towers, or the towers themselves coming down, or the masses of people running in terror away from the debris cloud, is a commentary not just on them, but on all of us. That they don't remember the pictures posted all over the city, put up by desperate family or friends, asking if their loved ones had been seen by anyone, even in a morgue; that they don't recall the flowers laid, or the names read in solemn ritual, or that for a brief moment everyone seemed united in grief and rage; well, whose fault is that, anyway?

There was a time when Remember the Maine, Remember the Alamo, Remember Pearl Harbor, were all rallying cries, determined to ring out in an effort to remind people not to forget, not to let something become a dry recitation in the obituaries section of the newspaper. Instead, too many today seem determined to forget, to even deny the meaning of what happened on that day. They're too horrified, too sensitive, too afraid to offend, to share the truth of September 11. For those people, I have no time whatsoever.

For everyone else, though, take a minute to go back and watch what happened that day. It's not difficult to find on YouTube or elsewhere. If you saw it live, it might be painful, it might fill you with grief or despair or rage. Watch it anyway. The anger might do you good. It might stir you out of your lethargy. It might make you feel alive, or remind you that you are. If you never saw it, if you were too young or weren't yet born, watch it, and watch a civilization crumble before your very eyes. Because things haven't been the same since then. Those in charge won't let it be the same. Those who look to destroy the West, to obliterate everything that it stood for or accomplished, won't let it be the same. Those who say we must change won't let it be the same.

In a way, though, they're right. Things shouldn't be the same. We shouldn't let America continue to recede as a cultural memory. We shouldn't let our society devolve into further and further degradation. We shouldn't continue to disregard what we stand for; in fact, perhaps it's time to stand for something for a change.

Today shouldn't be a day for random acts of kindness, or paying it forward, or any number of slogans that sound nice and mean well. You don't need September 11 to remind you to do something nice, good, or decent; perhaps part of our problem is that we don't do them every day of the week.  No, today is a day to remember. And to ask ourselves if we've learned anything in the intervening twenty-five years. Or if we even care. 

Watch, and remember, and never forget. TV
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September 11, 2021

20 years on



“It didn’t take tragedy or war to derail a man. It took only a memory.”
― Ali Shaw


In the desert
I saw a creature, naked, bestial,
Who, squatting upon the ground,
Held his heart in his hands,
And ate of it.
I said, “Is it good, friend?”
“It is bitter—bitter,” he answered;

“But I like it
“Because it is bitter,
“And because it is my heart.”
― Stephen Crane

September 11, 2020

Around the dial

This week's Hitchcock Project at bare•bones e-zine is the kind I really like, not that I don't like them all, but Jack prefaces his episode description by putting it into historical context—what was happening in the country at the time the episode was originally broadcast. It informs how the viewer of the time would have watched it, and by pointing this out, Jack helps us to appreciate the episode even more. That episode, by the way, is Harold Swanton's "Bang, You're Dead," from October 1961, directed by Hitch himself.

At Classic Film & TV Cafe, Rick takes us on another of his "Seven Things to Know About" features; this week's honoree is the popular Karen Valentine, who was a very busy actress through the 1980s, but will always remain best-known and loved for her role in Room 222.

The comic strip "Blondie" is turning 90, and Once Upon a Screen celebrates the anniversary by looking at the history of the strip, the long-running movie series, the less well-known radio series, and the two unsuccessful attempts to bring the Bumsteads to television.

Jodie's reached a milestone at Garroway at Large: she's concluded her Newspapers.com search for clippings about the Master Communicator. The number tops out at over 3,000 (and that's just through Dave's death) and now it comes time to put those clippings to work in telling the story of Dave's life.

At A Shroud of Thoughts, Terence pays tribute to the great Diana Rigg, who died yesterday at 82. I'll have my own thoughts on that next Wednesday.

Howard Duff is terrific in the Twilight Zone episode "A World of Difference," and at Shadow & Substance, Paul looks at the two interpretations of this story of a man's dual identity, and how it fits into the Serling portfolio.

Finally, today is September 11, and 19 years ago it was one of the worst days in American history, one of those occasions when anyone who was alive remembers where they were and what they were doing when they heard the news. Most of us were gathered around the television watching the unbelievable unfold, and the sight of those two towers coming down is something that can't be forgotten. The thought that people in their early twenties don't have any memory of it is sobering. It also makes me feel old—but then, what doesn't? Anyway, take a moment when you have time today to reflect on September 11, 2001, and how it changed the world. Even after 19 years, it remains a day of profound sadness. TV  

September 11, 2018

Never, ever forget

“Tribute in Light 2016”, Photo by Howard Sherman, September 11, 2016. TV  

September 11, 2014

Meditations on September 11

From Ric Burns' extraordinary documentary New York, here's one of the more extraordinary moments; a reading by Josh Hamilton of the "Moloch" section from Allen Ginsburg's epic poem "Howl."