Living Like It’s September 12, 2001

This is the second half of a story. The first half, what happened to me at Ground Zero and how I got there, is A Simple American Story. That one is about what happened to me. This one is about what I did with it.

Living like September 12 2001 has become a way of life for me, not just something I think about once a year. My health hasn’t been great for a long time, and most days I feel like I have the problems of somebody twice my age. I try not to let that get me down too much, although sometimes it absolutely does. I’m human.

The difference is, I try not to stay there very long.

I do my best not to carry that darkness into a room with me. I would rather be the person who lifts somebody else up, encourages them, makes them laugh, or reminds them they are capable of more than they think they are. Even on the days when I have trouble believing the same things about myself.

That is a big part of what living like it’s September 12, 2001 means to me.

I help people.
I help animals.
And whenever I can, I try to leave things a little better than I found them.

What Living Like September 12 2001 Means to Me

For anyone who remembers September 12, 2001, you probably already understand what I mean.

For a little while, people looked at each other differently.

Strangers helped strangers. Neighbors checked on neighbors. People stopped worrying quite so much about what divided them and started paying attention to the person standing beside them.

That is what living like September 12 2001 means to me, and I have tried to hold onto it.

These days, most of my life revolves around helping animals and helping the people who are trying to help them. That is where I have to draw the line sometimes because there are only so many hours in a day and only so much of me to go around.

But employees, friends, family, volunteers and complete strangers still find their way through that line from time to time.

I will say no when I absolutely have to.
I just don’t particularly enjoy doing it.

Living Like September 12 2001 When Nobody Is Watching

I sacrifice a lot for the animals in my care and for animals throughout this city. By the time everything else is taken care of, there often isn’t much left for me.

That’s usually fine.

What do I really need anyway?

A little food here and there and a Dr Pepper every now and again, and apparently I can keep this circus moving.

More importantly, I try to treat everybody with the same respect I would want someone to give me.

Stranger, friend or family, it doesn’t matter much.

If I see a need that I can fill, and I can actually do something that creates meaningful change for somebody, I usually try.

Sometimes people ask for help.
Sometimes they are too proud to ask.
Sometimes you can just see it.

Those are often the times I quietly step in.

Nobody needs to know it was me. I’m not doing it for attention, and I certainly don’t expect a parade afterward.

Most of the time, I don’t even expect to be paid back.

Even when somebody swears they will.

Kindness Doesn’t Need a Receipt

One thing I have learned is that you cannot help people while keeping a scoreboard.

People are not always going to live up to your expectations.

Sometimes they are going to disappoint you.

Sometimes the money doesn’t come back. Sometimes the favor isn’t returned. Sometimes the person you helped disappears completely.

That doesn’t mean the help was wasted.

Maybe paying that bill kept somebody from being evicted.
Maybe helping them get to a doctor made them feel better.
Maybe buying them something to eat got them through one miserable night.
Maybe giving them a ride changed the course of their entire day.
Maybe all you did was sit there and listen.

You may never know what that small act changed.

And maybe, if you are lucky, years later when their life has finally turned around, they will remember that somebody once showed up for them.

Then maybe they will show up for somebody else.

That is enough repayment for me.

Sometimes Showing Up Is the Whole Thing

If somebody calls needing a ride, something to eat, or just somebody willing to listen, I often try to make it work.

Not because I have nothing else to do.

Usually I have about 900 things to do.

That is part of why showing up matters.

They know I was busy. They know something else got put on hold. They know that for that moment I decided making sure they were okay was more important.

That may not sound like much, but sometimes simply being a good neighbor or a good friend can make all the difference in somebody’s life.

I know because it makes a difference in mine too.

I remember the people who showed up when I needed somebody.
I remember the people who answered the phone when an animal needed help.
I remember the ones who said, “I’ll come,” and actually came.

Those little acts used to feel more normal.

Today everybody is moving so fast that I think we have forgotten how important they are.

We Have Forgotten How to Slow Down

Life has become one giant rush from one obligation to the next.

Work. Phones. Bills. Notifications. Appointments. Problems. More work.

Somewhere in all of that hustle, we stopped slowing down long enough to really listen to the world around us.

I think that is a terrible thing to lose.

Compassion is one of the things that makes us human.

More than that, I think compassion is one of the things that makes humanity worthy of the place we have been given in this world.

If everyone becomes hateful, suspicious, angry and concerned only with themselves, we create a world I don’t particularly want to live in.

And I refuse to believe that is the best we can do.

Why the September 12 Spirit Still Matters

One of the things that has always bothered me about September 11 is what happened afterward.

Not the kindness.

The fact that it took something so horrible to bring that kindness out of us.

Why does somebody have to die before we tell people what they meant to us?

Why does a disaster have to happen before neighbors start checking on each other?

Why does somebody have to lose everything before a community suddenly remembers how to care?

Why can’t we do it because it is Tuesday?

No tragedy.
No disaster.
No terrible phone call.
Just Tuesday.

Call somebody.
Tell them you appreciate them.
Buy somebody lunch.
Check on the neighbor you haven’t seen lately.
Help somebody carry something.
Sit down and listen when somebody clearly needs to talk.

We absolutely can find that place in ourselves again if we want it badly enough.

I know because I have tried to live there.

The Strange Thing About Helping Others

Something happens when you start helping people regularly.

You want to do it more.

You start noticing opportunities you would have walked right past before.

And every once in a while, something even stranger happens.

You find yourself in exactly the right place, at exactly the right time, with exactly the right attitude or skill needed to make a real difference.

I have experienced that enough times that I have stopped pretending it is always coincidence.

I think there is an invisible hand guiding us sometimes.

Call it God. Call it a higher power. Call it whatever makes sense to you.

I just know that sometimes I get pushed in a direction I never planned on going, only to discover there was a reason I needed to be there.

When that happens, I have learned it is usually better to go along for the ride.

Because strangely enough, what I take away from helping someone is often every bit as powerful as what they received from me.

Maybe Some of Us Are Meant to Carry More

I truly believe we are not given more than we are capable of carrying.

The catch is that whoever is handing out the load apparently believes some of us can carry an awful lot.

Maybe that is the point.

Maybe people who survive difficult things gain tools that somebody else is going to need later.

Maybe pain teaches us how to recognize pain.
Maybe loss teaches us to notice the people who are standing alone.
Maybe fear teaches us why somebody desperately needs to hear, “I’m here.”

I would never choose some of the things that have happened in my life.

But I can choose what I do with them.

Forever Stuck Somewhere Between 9/11 and 9/12

In some ways, I feel like I have been stuck in a time warp ever since September 2001.

Part of me is still caught in September 11.

Fear.
Terror.
Loss.
Helplessness.
Darkness.

But another part of me lives permanently in September 12.

Hope.
Unity.
Compassion.
Determination.
People helping people simply because another human being needed them.

It sometimes feels like I am caught forever between those two days.

And maybe that is why helping others became so important to me.

Because every time I leave something positive behind, I move a little farther away from that black hole that is always trying to pull me back in.

Every animal helped.
Every person encouraged.
Every phone call answered.
Every ride given.
Every meal bought.
Every stranger treated like they matter.
Every small kindness nobody else ever knows about.

Those things are my escape.

Living Like September 12 2001, One Day at a Time

I cannot change what happened on September 11, 2001.

I cannot change everything that came afterward either.

But I can decide what I leave behind today.

So I try to stay positive.
I try to spread positivity.
I try to help when I can.
I try to remind people that kindness is still here, even if sometimes you have to look a little harder to find it.

And when that darkness starts pulling at me again, I keep moving toward the part of September 2001 worth holding onto.

September 12.

The part where people stood together.
The part where strangers mattered.
The part where helping somebody else seemed more important than ourselves.

I cannot live every day perfectly.

Nobody can.

But I can keep trying to live like it is September 12, 2001.

And with the help of people like each of you, maybe we can keep a little bit of that spirit alive through service to our neighbors and communities.