When asked, most Americans can say exactly where they were on September 11, 2001. They can recall details of what they saw, on television or in person or what they heard on the radio as the horrific story, the unbelievable unfolded.
A fair number of us remember life before 9/11 -- life before Homeland Security, TSA, long airport security lines, shoe removal, body scanning and the like. And so many other changes, external and internal, including a fleeting sense of safety, of freedom, of movement. And the settling in of fear.
We are Americans and we've adapted, accommodated to new structures, rules, uncomfortable feelings. We adjusted to a new normal.
I'm in a Seattle, WA hotel room perched on the 27th floor watching CNN report on the Paris terrorist massacre. We are here to celebrate our anniversary.
On the Saturday morning following the Paris attack, I look down on the street below from the 27th floor and an unwelcomed, unbiddened feeling washes over me. I am afraid. I'm afraid to head out for the day's activities in Seattle.
As I watch and listen to survivors tell their stories of the massacre, the executions, the sounds of reloading guns, the drive by shootings, the escapes out windows, the bombs, the helpfulness of strangers, I hear the citizens of Paris express their outrage and commitment that the terrorists will not win, will not take away their lives. I can imagine, as these citizens
speak their words of defiance and heroism, their underlying fear. How can they not be
afraid? A father and his adolescent son recount their tale of surviving the shootings in the concert hall. People around them were executed.
R nudges me to head out for the day. He says what the survivors say, we can't let the terrorists win.
I agree. That day in rainy, cloudy Seattle we set about creating our new normal -- pushing through the fear, waking up to reports of bombing raids, learning of new uncomfortable global alliances, checking the State Department's latest travel warnings, debating whether trips planned are safe to take.
I think about the Parisian adolescent boy, father by his side, speaking his story on camera, less than 24 hours after the massacre. He is a lucky one, a defiant one, but how can he not
feel afraid? The magnitude of our fight ahead, the level of hatred the terrorists express toward the west, has yet to sink in.
New normal.
Try to stay calm if you can and truly try to carry on. We've Democratic work to do.
