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Love in the time of Terrorist’s
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When my wife and I were courting we did so in relative secrecy. She was visiting from another country when we met and hence had no one to tell. I did not want her to feel pressured by meeting my friends and family. Long story short we decided to marry and the time came for her to meet my mother. September 11th of 2001 was a gorgeous day on the east coast; a real bluebird. My fiancée and I rose early and dressed with NPR in the background. We got in our little gold Honda Civic and drove the 40 minutes to my mother’s house through the crisp morning. We talked on the journey instead of listening to the radio.
When Mom opened the door the first thing I noticed was her hair was soaking wet and dripping all over her bathrobe. You can tell with your mother something is wrong faster than anyone. (A sibling comes in a close second.) Something was definitely wrong. She said: “We are being terroristically attacked!” My wife to be, her future mother in law and I all sat with cats and watched as thousands lost their lives.
For a long time movies and television gave a wide berth to the subject of terrorism and all the while “terroristically”, the unknown adverb, was working its way into our psyches. The people of our country understood something we hadn’t before and slowly we began to write this newfound perspective into our stories. The composite sketch of what a terrorist looks like has now been torn up and redrawn so many times that the resulting culprit could look like any of us. I think the best terror related fiction keeps this in mind and acts as both a mirror and window.
Jericho on CBS – Tuesday nights at 10pm
When my wife and I were courting we did so in relative secrecy. She was visiting from another country when we met and hence had no one to tell. I did not want her to feel pressured by meeting my friends and family. Long story short we decided to marry and the time came for her to meet my mother. September 11th of 2001 was a gorgeous day on the east coast; a real bluebird. My fiancée and I rose early and dressed with NPR in the background. We got in our little gold Honda Civic and drove the 40 minutes to my mother’s house through the crisp morning. We talked on the journey instead of listening to the radio.
When Mom opened the door the first thing I noticed was her hair was soaking wet and dripping all over her bathrobe. You can tell with your mother something is wrong faster than anyone. (A sibling comes in a close second.) Something was definitely wrong. She said: “We are being terroristically attacked!” My wife to be, her future mother in law and I all sat with cats and watched as thousands lost their lives.
For a long time movies and television gave a wide berth to the subject of terrorism and all the while “terroristically”, the unknown adverb, was working its way into our psyches. The people of our country understood something we hadn’t before and slowly we began to write this newfound perspective into our stories. The composite sketch of what a terrorist looks like has now been torn up and redrawn so many times that the resulting culprit could look like any of us. I think the best terror related fiction keeps this in mind and acts as both a mirror and window.
Jericho on CBS – Tuesday nights at 10pm
6 comments:
Tero....
Well you've done it again my friend. That was a day that I can recall every second of, at any given moment.
That is also I feel why I was so drawn to Jericho to begin with. The plot...not hard to believe. The survival, is how we seemed to band together as a nation then pointed fingers as weeks passed.
Did 9/11 help or hurt the survival of Jericho...? Yes this is a very real show with very true consequences and human reactions. Is it too much for some to handle...?
Let's hope not.
Excellent post!! You have a way with words my friend.
Terocious,
Thank you so much for sharing so much of yourself in this post. This is very touching.
:)
Very moving. I remember both everything that happened that Sept. 11 and nothing. I was supposed to work a night shift because it was a primary election day in New York, but was suddenly woken up by my husband who turned back around to go home the second he got to work.
My most vivid memory of the day: Getting onto the northbound New York State Thruway to get to work, traffic was thick, but orderly. Drivers were polite and let cars onto the roadway in staggered fashion. No one honked; people waved thanks at each other.
If you've ever driven on the roads in the NYC metro area, you'll know that's completely bizarre.
Tero: You moved me, my friend. Thanks for sharing. I can remember that day like it was yesterday...each single detail, and my overwhelming desire to immediately be with the people I love most.
Thanks for sharing your story. I don't think I will ever forget September 11th and the fear I felt. I was glued to the television. We had some friends who were Sikh Indians who were treated badly because they wore turbans people assumed they were Muslim.
Debby
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