Remembering September 11, ten years later

There were a lot of news stories and memorials on and around the 11th this year — but as artistic director of Pathfinder Theatre, I was focused (by necessity) on The Guys. I couldn’t handle a lot of reminders; I was living out the reality of that day already in rehearsals and performances. And then, after the show closed on Sept. 10, I needed time to let myself recover.

So it’s only been within the last few days, as I’ve begun to recover from the post-show crash after The Guys, that I've been able to let myself remember and grieve the events of 9/11.

I’ve been living with that a lot today; now and then, throughout the day, I’d remember: 3,000 lives lost; 350 firefighters — men and women. Police officers. Rescue workers. Port Authority. Civilians. Those at the Pentagon. Those on Flight 93. As Joan says in The Guys, “We lost … a lot.”

For me, it was personal — because the people who lost their lives were fellow human beings. They were fellow countrymen. They were Americans, just like me, regardless of where they lived. I didn’t want to bury my head in the sand and say, “It happened somewhere else; it doesn't affect me.” What happens to one … happens to all of us.

I’ve been grieving today. I don’t think I let myself grieve at the time; we were all in shock. What else was there to do but to try to find a way to go on? Not to let the terrorists win, not to let them change the way we went about our everyday lives.

But now, ten years later, I can grieve. I can cry over the thousands of lives lost, the families and friends left behind, even the loss of two beautiful buildings that were the pride and joy of so many.

I can get angry over the unfairness — and the absurdity of attacking us in such a way. As Joan says in The Guys, “They were civilians. They were massacred.”

They were unique individuals, every one of them with a story, every one of them valuable, loved by someone they left behind. Not faceless masses — which was how the terrorists saw them — but unique, valuable, individual human beings. Every one of them worth my grief, my sorrow, my anger, the depth of emotion that pours through me in waves of loss and tears.

“We will never forget,” so many people said on Sunday this year. But how many people have forgotten already? And it’s only Saturday.

I don’t want to forget. I’m grateful for the play we did, which will live with me forever now, emblazoned on my heart and in my mind. Presenting The Guys this year was the least I could do to say “thank you” to all those we lost that day.