Important Dates for My Generation (continued)

 Continuing with the four dates most important for my generation:

 

Sept. 11, 2001.

The Terrorist attacks by Islamic Zealots

 

         Europe and other countries had been experiencing airline hijackings, bombings, and terrorist attacks by several entities, but increasingly by Al Qaeda.   The US had its home-grown attacks, the most significant of which was the Oklahoma City bombing.   For the most part, though, US citizens felt safe.   Alert to deteriorating areas when traveling, but generally safe at home from terrorism.

         

All that changed on the morning of Sept. 11.   We were not safe, after all.

                  

Anyone alive then  recognizes how things changed after that.  Security at airports became strict and invasive and you’d better not complain.   The Patriot Act affected us all.   Edward Snowden leaked secret intelligence papers that shocked us, much like Daniel Ellsberg’s  theft and release of  the Pentagon Papers.

                  

Listing all the changes would take far too much time and far too much space.   Let me say only that things have changed and I hope our security is better.

 

         We abandoned several wars from Vietnam in 1975, Iraq in 2011, and Afghanistan in 2021, leaving all with our tails between our legs.  The implications of those “defeats” still hurt even though we are glad our warriors are no longer dying there.  

We have tried to make amends to our surviving Vietnam war veterans for their  abysmal homecoming reception.    

         

The mood of the country has been pummeled in the last decade.  The hate and lies and rancor and accusations in our politics is horrendous.   It’s no wonder some good candidates refrain from public office.  Many of us have avoided the news outlets, not only for bad news, but also because we’ve lost trust in them. 

 

The tumult of Trump’s first presidency affected us all, regardless of whose fault it was. Now, we are heading into another Trump term and many do not look forward to it with hope.

         

It is entirely possible that my final three paragraphs might be transplanted into a description of a new era.    Maybe the starting point of that era will be Jan. 6, 2021, the date of the so-called insurrection at our capitol building.

(There will be one more post in this series.)

 

         

 

The Russian Journals, Part Seventeen, Remembering

We’re tired, we tourists cruising the Volga-Baltic waterways of Imperial Russia. We’ve had a full day, and yet the siren songs of after-dinner activities waft through the air.

We attended an extraordinary lecture on pre-revolutionary Russian history in the morning, and toured the ancient Kirillov monastery at Goritsky in the afternoon. We’d been treated to a bliny (crepe) and vodka tasting once we were back on board.

Then, a Russian dance class for those who were still standing after the free-flowing vodka. For those unable to stand, or who didn’t want shin splints the rest of their lives, a movie was playing, “Tsars of Time of Troubles” in the Panorama Bar.

At dinnertime, we discovered pirates had taken over the ship. One pirate untied my shoe laces as I entered the dining room. A second pirate tied them together. Our tableware was thrown casually in a huge pile, our chairs in disarray, our servers dressed in casual jeans and striped shirts instead of their usual elaborate costumes and uniforms.

A folklore concert and live music for dancing beckons the night owls, and another movie at 10 p.

m.

A small group of us assemble after dinner in the small bar at the stern of the ship. There aren’t many—we passed the word to a few fellow tourists whose company we enjoyed, whom we thought would like to join us. Some are pulled away by spouses so as not to miss the folklore concert.

The rest of us are quiet, lost in memories of why we are there in this quiet lounge instead of somewhere else on the ship. The bartender isn't yet on duty, so there will be no toast.

Most of us just want to re

member anyway.

.

This evening is September 11. This is the eighth anniversary of the day that has become known as 9-11, the day radical terrorists attacked our country and took the lives of thousands of innocents.

We are traveling in a country that had once been a bitter enemy, one we had feared every day of our lives for almost as many decades as we had lived, one that has opened its arms wide and welcomed us. The irony of this is not lost, though this particular country had not been at fault in those attacks.

We considered making a toast at the vodka-tasting activity earlier in the day, but the joyful atmosphere was not the appropriate venue. We hastily passed the word “after dinner in the small bar.”

And so we assembled.

“We will always remember. We will never forget,” we promise as we remember and pay homage to the dead and all the survivors of 9-11.