Innocent and Oblivious
The great thing about growing up as a kid in the 70s and 80s is that we were pretty much oblivious to the world around us. My life consisted of bikes, skateboards, some backyard sports, and hanging out with friends. I could walk to school, church, the pool, shops, and the movie theatre. The world of adults was foreign to me, as it should be.
My first glimpse of the larger world came in the form of an argument between my parents over who they were voting for in 1980. I knew nothing of the Iranian Hostage Crisis or the Soviet-Afghan or Falklands Wars.
A Crack in the Shell
In January of 1986 I was just two months away from turning 14 as I watched the Space Shuttle Challenger explode. In my mind’s eye I can still see that huge explosion and the two boosters leaving trails of smoke. After that, it seemed like the larger world had permanently entered into my young life. I watched the Berlin Wall fall. The Soviet Union fall. The Los Angeles riots. The Oklahoma City bombing and President George H.W. Bush tell the American people he had launched Operation Desert Storm.
Yet, even in the midst of the 70s-90s, I was still pretty much a kid. I realized those things were happening but it didn’t affect me personally. They were news items on the television not much different than watching Jerry Springer or Geraldo.
Innocence Lost
That changed on September 11th, 2001. I was newly married and we had a nearly 3 month old son. I had people I loved and wanted to protect. I worried for them and for our country.
I was at work as an electrician’s apprentice on that Tuesday morning 25 years ago. Rumors began to spread through the construction site that a plane had flown into the World Trade Center. It caught my attention because I had just been to New York a few years previous. In my mind, it was some malfunction of a small plane, a Cessna or something similar. Or, perhaps, it was mentally unstable individual, a hurt person wanting to hurt others. As we gathered in the electrical room to watch a small, portable television shock overtook us all.
New York was nearly 500 miles away but the same thought was on the minds of every worker in that room; what if this is the beginning of a larger attack on American soil. What if this is just the first wave? What if planes begin to appear and start dropping bombs? Are we seeing the first wave of an all out assault on the United States? Is my family okay? Is this happening elsewhere in the country?
We called our loved ones to check on them and then did what most guys do in this situation, we went back to work. I was working on the roof that day and I can still recall how blue the sky was and continued to be for days after.
Back home we went to church, we prayed, we hugged each other a little tighter, we watched the television trying to understand what had happened. The event galvanized the country, even for just a little while. I too had thoughts of enlisting; fighting whoever could dream up such an evil plan.
I guess I would say that this was my wake-up call, my realization that I was no longer a child and that evil truly existed in the world.
But Still, Hope
I feel sorry for my own children. With the advent of technology, social media, etc., that young innocence is lost to them in many ways. They are aware of the war in Ukraine, the Hamas attacks, and the war we are waging against Iran. If they were to ask, why, I couldn’t really tell them. All I can say is that there are bad people in the world who like to do bad things. Don’t be like them.
As I finish this writing I glance at a video my son just sent of one of our granddaughters laughing in her mother’s arms. For this, I am thankful for our connectedness through technology. It’s a tally mark on the good side. I’m thankful we had more children and didn’t give into the fear that came with 9/11. I’m thankful they too are having children and not fearful of this seemingly violent, evil world because it’s not. It’s a beautiful world. It’s a gift from God and we can’t let the violent and evil people let us forget that.
Where were you? Let me know in the comments…
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James M. Hahn, Author 