Some Anniversaries are Hard to Forget

The anniversary of one has just passed and the other's is just around the corner. This is the time of year when I often reflect on modern America's two greatest disasters, the aftermath of Katrina and the horrors of 9/11. The impact on the psyche of America if not the World was deep and profound as disbelief gave way to horror, and horror turning to anger. During each of these tragedies I was living outside of the US and the reactions to the events of those around me and their thoughts and questions and the opinions left an impact on me as well, as lasting and no less profound than the events themselves.

On the evening of September 11th I was at the gym watching CNN on the monitor in front of me as I plodded along on the Stairmaster; just a normal Tuesday night after work. Suddenly, half a continent away, as people made their way to the office to start their Tuesday morning, the image that flashed on the screen was almost surreal, a plane had just crashed into the World Trade Center. Before even able to comprehend the first image fully, another plane streaked into view with more devastating consequences, and over the course of the next hours the shock of the carnage and horror begin to take hold. But what happened in the gym around me as these despicable act unfolded was to me, an American, a far greater and sadder tragedy. As the second plane impacted, a small group gleefully looked on and actually cheered, some even going so far as to say, it was long overdue. How and why had we as a nation become so disliked to bring about this reaction?

The Katrina story was even more perplexing. At the time of the storm, I was living in a country prone to typhoons and the resulting destruction and risk to life that they, like hurricanes, so often bring. The media coverage of the storm had already prepped most of us with the notion that the consequences would be severe, but what transpired in the aftermath was unparalleled in its absurdity. As my colleagues and I watched the uneven and ill-guided response, the obvious differences between what was actually happening and what we were being told, the blatant denial of responsibility from government, both local and national, and ultimately, the complete breakdown of civil order, their, and my, sense of disbelief was overwhelming–this just could not be happening in the US could it? How could the world's only remaining so-called superpower so miserably fail its citizens? But perhaps the most unsettling image to my foreign friends was the raw display of anarchy into which New Orleans soon descended. Time and time again, I was asked how can this happen in America? What is wrong? Why are these people killing and robbing each other and why does the government not send more resources to help out?

I am back in the US today, and sadly to say, dislike for the US and the resulting loss of respect globally seems to have grown since the events of 9/11, and New Orleans remains but a shell of what it was, riddled with crime and little progress made in its rebuilding effort; and the questions that bewilder and haunt me, no easier answered than before, perhaps never fully answered.

But one thing I do know and see is that the number of the poor and the disillusioned and often violent disenfranchised citizens in the US continues to grow at alarming rates. At the same time, the displaced notion that our brand of democracy is the answer for all the world's troubles is as strong as ever in the minds of our leadership. Our foreign policy remains a mystery to most and enormous sums of money are being consumed by wars that history has shown to be futile. Is another great disaster lurking around the corner, waiting to unfold?

As these infamous anniversaries are solemnly observed and the politicians and pundits alike fill our ears and eyes with words of why we should or should not ever witness such a tragedy again, perhaps each of us should also ask ourselves the same questions I still cannot answer fully.