http://trailbrazin.blogspot.com/2015/11/prompt-6.html
9/21/2001
by Helen Sadler
I have avoided it for years. I would venture to say I
haven’t listened to it in well over ten years. It has sat at the bottom of a CD
stack and when I see it there, I simply say No. Over and over, I have said NO.
I am not listening to that.
The item in question is the 2-compact disc set called America: A Tribute to Heroes. This
concert aired on Friday evening, September 21, 2001. I was still in the midst
of the haze I had been living in since 9/11 – the disbelief and horror of that
day had not left me. Life felt like it could never and would never ever be the
same. I was distraught by some of the rhetoric that was going around. Nothing
felt right and nothing I did to feel better was making it better.
I definitely wanted to see this concert. I worked at Sony
Customer Service until 8:45 p.m. so I did miss the opening. The concert itself had many moving
speeches and performances.
Yet, it didn’t do it for me. I still felt foggy and hurt and
displaced. I could not put my finger on how to feel better. Nothing I tried
help. I lived in a lot of silence about what had happened. It seemed too hard
to talk about after the initial impact.
It did happen, however. I did find a breakthrough.
That Sunday there was a memorial service broadcast from
Yankee Stadium, which I don’t remember much about. In fact, all I really
remember is Oprah Winfrey reciting “We will not be moved” in a dramatic and
moving way. I was lying next to Jim throughout the event as we watched the
people in New York clinging to each other in grief and prayer. Then the
floodgates opened for both of us when Jim said, “Those poor people.” It was the
moment we both needed. It started the healing for me from that dreadful day.
Inch by inch, I began to re-enter my life.
Back to the disc: I don’t know how many times I listened to
it after the initial purchase. But somewhere along the line I decided that it
brought more pain than happiness or healing. I don’t even remember making a
conscious decision. Perhaps one day I had it on and just said ENOUGH, and it
was relegated to the bottom of the pile from that day on.
I pulled the disc out last week and took a look at it. The
song selection and the artists are superior. I have let this dangerous item sit
next to me all week, keeping it on the table by my recliner. I have written
this part of the essay before listening to it. I intend on listening to it
today and reporting what transpires for me as I listen. I am going to keep a
pad of paper nearby for sketching images and ideas that come to me. Let’s see
what happens.
Side One:
Listening to the first disc went fairly well. I found myself
writing down words and phrases that stood out to me. Some of them were questions. I thought of making a found
poem from them, so here goes:
Bruce asked
How do I begin again?
You took my heart when
you left
Stevie preaches
When you say you hate
in the name of God or Allah
You are lying to God
Perhaps my favorite
was Bono who said,
We’re packing a
suitcase for somewhere we’ve never been
And
Sick of sorrow
Sick of pain
Sick of hearing again
and again
There won’t be peace
on earth
Faith reminds us
There will come a day
Every tear will be
wiped away
Tom says,
There ain’t no easy
way out
Enrique brought words
like
Cry…save…pain…laugh…forever…run…tremble…die
Phrases like
In too deep
Take my breath away
Stand by you
Neil imagines
Living life in peace
The world can be as
one
Alicia lifts us with
Sing your greatest song
and you’ll keep growing on
Someday we’ll all be
free
And then the ultimate
question
As things get serious
Do you think we can
change everybody who hates
Before it’s too late?
Do you think we can
change?
And the disc ends with
“New York State of Mind”
It all seemed harmless
enough.
I wrote:
This concert seemed to
come with a promise
One that was not
fulfilled
It may be why I turned
my back on it
As was done to me
Yet – so much hope and
encouragement
Am I buying what
they’re selling?
Or did I sell out?
Side Two
It began with the Dixie Chicks:
Made a promise to
myself
Never compromise
Love is out there
waiting somewhere
You just have to go
and find it.
I thought about what happened to the Dixie Chicks because of
all this and I started to feel bitter and remorseful. I bought their music, but
did I ever defend them? Maybe I
did, but I don’t remember. The tide was so against them. I think this is the
reason I want to go see them when they tour America. I want them to know I’m
with them, in some small weird way.
Dave Matthews sang, and then Wyclef Jean with Marley’s
“Redemption Song.” This is when I started to feel it. This was the place.
Won’t you help me sing
These songs of
freedom…
Mariah was heartfelt with her words
You don’t have to be
afraid of what you are…
Epiphany.
I realized that when Jim and I broke that Sunday, when he
said, “Those poor people,” he wasn’t just talking about those in New York. He
was talking about all of us.
We are the poor people who are unable to get it right, and
just keep descending into more bitterness and violence.
After that…
My stomach got queasy and stayed that way as Bon Jovi came
on with
We’ve got each other
and that’s a lot
We’ll make it I swear
Living on a prayer
In an acoustic fashion that remains my favorite on the
album. Haunting delivery. More meaningful to me than ever.
Sheryl Crow asked:
Could you not be sad?
Could you not break
down?
(The answer: no)
My stomach still was flipping, feeling strange. I pulled up
a blanket and decided not to write anything else down. That is until Sting said this:
Nothing comes from
violence and nothing ever will.
The sun will rise
another day.
I so want to believe!
Paul sang an eerie version of “Bridge Over Troubled
Water.” Celine sang “God Bless
America.” Willie played “America
the Beautiful.”
I was spent. Wiped out. Needed water. Wished I could sleep.
My initial conclusion:
9/11 is still with us.
9/21 got buried.
9/11 goes on and on.
9/21 is lost in time.
Its message got lost.
I got lost.
I think I quit listening to this because I didn’t fulfill
the promise. You see, when 9/11
happened, the first thing I noticed was the two diametric responses:
Bomb
them all to the stone age.
OR
We
need more love.
Of course, I’m on the love side. But what we got was the
bombing…and so much more, so much worse.
We cannot even begin to count the tears shed in this country
and around the world because of this event and the USA’s response.
But a part of me gave up when I saw the odds were against
me. A part of me just quit
thinking and talking about it unless I knew I was with like minds.
And we see it still occurring here in America, maybe even
worse than ever – two very different Americas. It is evidence that this has
continued to fester underground for a very long time.
And do I speak up?
Not much. Not enough.
I’ve conditioned myself so thoroughly, I don’t even know
where to begin. My suitcase got
packed, alright. But I haven’t paid much attention to where I traveled. And now
I don’t like where I’ve ended up.
Final Reflection
I could not finalize this on Friday night, even though I
tried.
This morning I wrote some more in my journal on this hoping to uncover some kind of truth that would tie this all up with a neat bow.
Didn't happen.
So instead I picked up my guitar and did the next right thing.
I played Dan Bern’s song with the chorus:
Don’t let your heart get broken by this world
At the bottom of the ocean
You might find a pearl
Don’t let your heart get broken by this world
I’ll just keep looking for those pearls, as I have been
doing for the last fourteen years.
I will put this CD back on the shelf. Don't feel like going through this again.
At least I have
discovered why I don’t listen to it. Although each song seems harmless enough, together they
represent something that I cannot separate from the time period that spawned
it.
And I have to face this as well: it makes me think too much
about the things I cannot change.
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