Today I woke up early, noticed the date, and immediately knew why my mind felt heavy. It was 9/11. A flood of memories came rushing back as I thought about where I was and what I was doing that morning. I was a recent University graduate, now a young professional working in high tech. I had the television on while getting ready for work, watching the first images from New York and trying to understand what was happening. Then the second plane hit the towers, and in that instant, the confusion disappeared. We knew this was not an accident. It was a deliberate act of evil.
The men who carried out those attacks did not see themselves that way, of course. They believed they were doing something righteous. That is a much bigger subject about how people can convince themselves to do terrible things in the name of deeply held beliefs, and it is probably best left for another blog post. Today, I would rather remember the helpers. I want to remember the firefighters who ran into burning buildings while everyone else was trying to get out. The paramedics, police officers, volunteers, neighbours, and complete strangers who stepped forward to help people they had never met. On one of humanity’s darkest days, thousands of ordinary people showed extraordinary courage. They reminded us that even when hatred creates darkness, there are always people willing to carry a little light into it. And that spirit of kindness did not stop at the American border.
When U.S. airspace was closed after the attacks, hundreds of planes were suddenly forced to land wherever they could. Canada opened its airports and communities to thousands of stranded passengers. We all remember the small town of Gander, Newfoundland. Gander suddenly found itself hosting thousands of unexpected visitors from around the world. The town’s population effectively swelled overnight. Schools, churches, community centres, and other buildings were turned into temporary shelters. Local families brought food, blankets, clothing, toiletries, and anything else people might need. Volunteers prepared meals. Pharmacists helped stranded travellers get prescriptions. People opened their homes and their hearts to complete strangers who had no idea when they would be able to leave. There was no grand plan because there was no time for one. People simply saw other human beings who needed help and said, in effect, “Come in. We’ve got you.”
That may be one of the most beautiful parts of the 9/11 story. The attacks showed us the worst of what people are capable of. But the response showed us the best. And for every person motivated by hatred, there were thousands motivated by compassion. For every act intended to divide people, there were countless acts that brought strangers together. Americans helped Americans. Canadians helped Americans. People from different countries, religions, backgrounds, and beliefs helped one another simply because someone was in need. Twenty-five years later, I think that is worth remembering.
We cannot undo what happened on September 11, 2001. We cannot bring back the people who were lost or erase the pain carried by their families. But we can choose what lessons we take from that day. We can remember the courage, the kindness, the people who ran toward danger, the people who opened their homes, and the people who looked at frightened strangers and decided they were no longer strangers. And perhaps that is one of the best ways to honour those who were lost… by choosing to be one of the helpers when someone else needs one.