I was in line at the local Publix (best grocery store ever) and the man in front of me asked where I was ten years ago. My Publix seems to have a direct pipeline to every senior citizen home in town – and seriously, I live in West Florida there are a LOT of seniors up in herre. Instead of feeling weirded out by the personal question
I can remember exactly where I was, as I’m guessing most everyone can. September 11, 2001 is burned into our collective memory – at once making us feel alone, small and scared. And – here’s a dialectic for you – at the same time uniting us with a bond. It’s that damn collective memory.
My father-in-law has a theory that if we could access it, we’d be able to reach back into history to all the collective memories of those that came before us. Not, like, I could figure out what was going on in Abe Lincoln’s mind before the Gettysburg Address. More like I could pull from the strength of Sarah from Bavaria in 1456.
I wonder how – in twenty years – this collective memory will affect our children. If it will affect their children. I know I will never forget, but I’m not sure my grandchildren (or great grandchildren) will remember.