By David Fortier 

Come Sunday morning the 20th anniversary of 9/11 will have left us with more commemorations and remembrances. Since I am still a bit hobbled, I spent most of the day listening to radio programs that intermingled coverage of live national ceremonies and interviews with people who were directly affected by the events of that day. Other programs mapped the events that led to 9/11 and others provided insights into larger questions that arose from that day. 

Bristol held its own commemoration, beginning with service at St. Matthew Church and another at the fire station downtown, where a new memorial to firefighters and first responders was officially dedicated.  

In classes at the high school on Friday, I spent some time on 9/11, but I had to remind myself that the students sitting in front of me, mostly juniors and seniors, were not alive then, had no memories of 9/11 and weren’t able to string together a coherent narrative about it. At one point, I paused and, in my head, started ticking off all those moments that I have been around for that they did not have a connection to. 

The first, of course, was the first Kennedy assassination, when I was five, and which I remember because I watched the events unfold on my grandparent’s television, as the adults around me commiserated, really cried. Rarely if ever have I seen the adult males in my family cry in public. This fact alone imprinted upon me how important this was. 

Later, there were the deaths of other civil rights leaders including students, Martin Luther King Jr.’s assassination, the second Kennedy assassination, the Pentagon Papers, Watergate, the Nixon resignation. Skipping ahead, the Challenger explosion. Each is somehow interwoven with the other. 

And there was no way I saw myself explaining any of this to the students. The saving grace was that as we reviewed newspapers from the day—a student’s dad set a bunch aside—I watched as the students sat up in their seats and started asking questions. Then, we spent some time on the 9/11 memorial website, reviewing timelines from that day including snippets of recorded conversation, among them from people on Flight 93 after having been kidnapped and knowing it. 

At one time, I asked, “Why do we remember and commemorate terrible events like this’ And a student, raising his hand first, said, “So we do not forget and to make sure it doesn’t happen again.” The class, as a whole, agreed. 

For my part, on 9/11/2001, I was teaching a journalism class at St. Joseph College. I grabbed one of those 13-inch black and white televisions. The ones with rabbit ears. For the entire class, from 9 a.m. through most of the morning, as a class, we watched and listened as the events unfolded. Later in the day, I waited as Mary put in calls to a close friend who was living in the City and had business close to the Twin Towers, and who, when we finally heard from her, admitted being close enough that she could see the towers collapse, and said when asked, that she was not okay, but that she would be. 

And then there were the reminders of how really small the world is—a teacher from the school my children attended waited to hear from a son who was in the City for the day and headed to work at the towers. Remembering was painful, waiting along with the parent excruciatingly painful. In that event, things turned out for the better and not the worst. 

Reading/listening assignment for this week is different. Try the Poetry Unbound podcast with Pádraig Ó Tuama, who recites a poem and then discusses it and then reads it again and always leaves me with a sense of wonder—something that we can all use from time to time. Click here. 

Just a reminder, municipal election year this year! The signs are going up, candidates are knocking on doors. Maybe start rounding up a list of questions?

In the meantime, have a good week. 

“Come Sunday morning” is intended to be a weekly review, a recounting of the past week and an anticipation of week to come. Among its features will be reviews of old and new books, sharing of favorite podcasts, some family news, Bristol events and happenings and issues surrounding education, work and community journalism. He can be reached at dfortier@bristoledition.org.