Dwain Northey (Gen X)

Will September 11 Just Become a Number?

Every September 11, we say the same thing:

Never forget.

And I understand why.

For those of us who lived through September 11, 2001, it isn’t really history. It’s memory. We remember where we were. We remember the confusion. We remember the television coverage. We remember the towers falling. We remember the Pentagon. We remember the field in Pennsylvania. We remember the sudden realization that the world we thought we understood had changed before breakfast.

But this year, something else occurred to me.

Something that made me feel very, very old.

The generation being born today is roughly as far removed from September 11, 2001, as my generation was from December 7, 1941.

Think about that for a second.

As a Gen X kid, World War II felt like ancient history. It was black-and-white photographs, grainy newsreels, stories from grandparents, old military uniforms hanging in closets, and movies where everybody somehow had the same square jaw.

Pearl Harbor was something that happened before my parents were even adults.

It was history.

Not memory.

And now September 11 is becoming that same kind of distance for an entire generation.

That’s a little difficult for those of us who remember it to wrap our heads around.

Because I can remember September 11.

And eventually there will be adults walking around who weren’t merely too young to remember it.

They won’t have existed yet.

That’s the part that gets me.

My son is Gen Z. If you say “December 7,” there’s a good chance you’re going to get a blank stare.

December 7, 1941.

Pearl Harbor.

The date that pulled the United States into World War II.

For his generation, it is already possible for that date to exist primarily as a number.

And then there is another date.

November 22, 1963.

You can say the date and get another blank stare.

John F. Kennedy.

Assassination.

For people my age, that date still carries weight. For younger generations, it is increasingly something they learn because a history teacher tells them it happened.

That’s how history works.

The people who experienced an event eventually disappear.

The people who remember the people who experienced it eventually disappear.

And eventually all that’s left is the date.

December 7.

November 22.

June 6.

August 6.

August 9.

Numbers that once represented moments that changed the world.

So what happens to September 11?

Will it eventually become just another number?

Will a teacher someday say, “On September 11, 2001, terrorists attacked the United States,” and a room full of teenagers will dutifully write it down before moving on to the next chapter?

Will there be some kid in 2076 who knows that 9/11 happened but has absolutely no emotional connection to it?

Will September 11 become something like December 7 is today?

Or will it become something different?

Because I wonder if September 11 has an advantage that Pearl Harbor never had.

We named it.

We turned it into something more than a date.

9/11.

Not September 11.

Nine-eleven.

A number that became a noun.

A number that became a verb.

A number that became an entire era.

We don’t simply say that something happened on September 11, 2001.

We say 9/11 happened.

And everybody who was alive knows what that means.

It changed airport security.

It changed immigration debates.

It changed American foreign policy.

It changed the military.

It changed the way we looked at skyscrapers.

It changed the way we looked at airplanes.

It changed the way we looked at strangers.

It changed the way we looked at the word “terrorism.”

It changed the way an entire generation understood the idea that America was somehow protected by oceans and geography.

It even changed our vocabulary.

Before September 11, “homeland security” wasn’t part of everyday American conversation.

Afterward, it was everywhere.

That’s a remarkable amount of cultural weight for four numbers.

But eventually, even that weight will fade.

Not because people don’t care.

Because that’s what time does.

There will be no one left who remembers watching the second tower fall in real time.

No one left who remembers the skies being strangely empty because commercial aviation had been grounded.

No one left who remembers the smoke.

No one left who remembers wondering whether another attack was coming.

No one left who remembers calling somebody just to make sure they were alive.

No one left who can say:

“I remember where I was.”

And perhaps that is the real meaning behind “Never Forget.”

It doesn’t mean we can prevent history from becoming history.

We can’t.

It means that while we are still here, we have a responsibility to tell the story.

Not just the story of the buildings.

Not just the story of terrorism.

Not just the story of war.

The story of the people.

The firefighters.

The police officers.

The paramedics.

The office workers.

The passengers.

The people who ran toward the danger while everybody else was running away from it.

The people who made phone calls they knew might be their last.

The people who waited for someone who never came home.

Because someday, September 11 will belong to history.

That’s inevitable.

And maybe someday a kid will hear “9/11” and think of it the same way my generation heard “Pearl Harbor.”

A date.

An event.

A chapter in a textbook.

Something that happened a long time ago.

And honestly, I hope they never understand it the way we did.

I hope they never have to.

Because the goal of remembering history isn’t to keep the pain alive forever.

It’s to keep the lessons alive long enough that we don’t have to repeat it.

So tomorrow, September 11 will come around again.

For some people, it will be a memorial.

For some, a painful anniversary.

For some, a day of service.

For others, simply another Thursday.

But for those of us who remember, it will still be 9/11.

And perhaps that is the strange thing about getting older.

You eventually realize that some of the things you thought would always be living memory are slowly becoming history.

December 7 became Pearl Harbor.

November 22 became Kennedy.

And one day, September 11 will become just another entry in a history book.

I just hope that before it becomes merely a number, we have taught the next generation why those numbers mattered.

Because history isn’t really about remembering dates.

It’s about remembering what happened to the people behind them.