Illustration by Tiago Estrada
A quarter of a century has passed since the events of September 11, 2001. The tragedy of that day is remembered differently depending on where someone stands in history.
For those who witnessed the attacks and their aftermath, 9/11 is a vivid, enduring and personal memory. For younger generations, it is an event they have come to know largely through history, education, and the stories of those who lived through it.
On the 25th anniversary of the worst day in the history of New York City, we thought this year’s coverage could depict this difference in perspectives and the attack’s relevance to America’s ongoing discourse among its different peoples.
Thomas Franklin, an accomplished photojournalist and current Montclair State University journalism professor, witnessed the attack on the Twin Towers firsthand.
For Franklin, the day started as any other. He was sitting in a board meeting at The Recorder for an upcoming article about basketball in the Dominican Republic when an editor rushed into the room: a plane had just crashed into the North Tower. Franklin and his colleagues looked out from their office window to the New York skyline, the sight confirming what they had just heard.
“I immediately grabbed my camera, raced down to my car,” Franklin recalled. “My editor told me, ‘Get as close as you can and report back to us.’ I didn’t really see what the rest of the world was seeing on TV, and so my job was to go out there and document it — so that’s what I did.”
For everyone who found themselves in lower Manhattan, terror and uncertainty propelled them to get as far away as possible. The same went for Franklin, who understood that he had a responsibility to fulfill, even as he moved against the crowd, contradicting his instinct to flee.
“That was my job,” Franklin stated. “That’s what photojournalists do: they run towards danger sometimes.” Franklin was part of the population — whether they were first responders, journalists, or those desperately searching for loved ones — who headed toward the devastating scene with the understanding that their actions would become critical to national history.
The journalist’s dedication to his responsibilities did not, however, distract from or eradicate the horror of the event.
“I was shooting through tears for parts of the day, but I had a job to do and that was most important,” Franklin said. The weight of his emotions bore on him as he continued to photograph the seemingly endless tragedy.
"Raising the Flag at Ground Zero" by Thomas Franklin, which would later become one of the most impactful photos of the attack on the Twin Towers.
Among the photographs Franklin took that day was the famous image of three firefighters raising the American flag at Ground Zero. Amidst the destruction of lower Manhattan, Franklin fought to remain focused on the technical decisions he needed to make.
“I quickly moved into a position where I was trying to get to a spot where I had a good chance of not getting blocked,” Franklin recalled. “Then I quickly made sure I had my long lens on and wanted to shoot it with a shallow depth of field. I wanted the three firemen in focus in the background.”
The photograph would go on to become one of the most recognizable images associated with September 11. Franklin did not anticipate that image becoming more profound than his other photographs of that day.
“I had just seen the two largest buildings in Manhattan in smoking flames, collapsed to the ground, trapping thousands of people,” Franklin said. “I saw the symbolism of what they were doing, raising the American flag the day we were attacked…That’s a powerful image.”
For many adults, September 11th was a real, lived-through day. Some, like Franklin, even documented it, all while trying to comprehend and manage the emotional weight of the tragedy. For Abel Molina of the Montclair State University Historical Society, however, the attacks are an event he inherited rather than one he witnessed.
Born in 2006, Molina grew up in a world where the date was already associated with grief and remembrance.
“I remember every time I started school back in elementary and middle [school] around September 7th or 8th, 9/11 would always be around the corner,” Molina said. “It’s been a daunting day ever since I was five or six [when] everyone around me was kind of telling [me] what happened that day… I couldn’t wrap my head around it until I was in my teenage years.”
For Molina, the event was shaped by the people around him and the way the country continued to recall that day.
“It’s not like a memory I have,” Molina said.
Like many who grew up after the attacks, Molina views the day not only through the lens of others’ memory of the tragedy, but also through a lens of recognizing of its lasting emotional toll on the nation.
Furthermore, Molina believes September 11 cannot be remembered without considering its lasting political and social consequences: teaching the event requires more than simply outlining the day’s chronology.
History relies on many trusses for recounting and recollection. Molina’s teachers used various resources to build students’ understanding. This included academic and journalistic pieces, like documentaries and articles, as well as a wide range of personal reflections from people all over the country.
This year, the tragedy’s anniversary coincides with America’s 250th year of declaring its independence. A history professor from Rice University sees this concurrence as a chance to reflect on American discourse — how our journalism and documentation evolve in relation to international affairs.
With each memorial, citizens are reminded that American issues do not exist in a vacuum; what happens in our backyards does, in fact, connect with the people’s backyards across all oceans.
We understand the value and necessity of examining the available information we have about 9/11. Discussion about all its impacts and consequences — medical, economic, political, cultural, environmental — is rightfully continued even after the day has passed.
Be that as it may, the foremost impact a person’s own story has on shaping our understanding cannot be understated.
In Molina’s opinion, the most effective way to anchor oneself to an event they did not live through is through someone’s own retelling.
“I feel like the best way to do it… is a conversation of personal stories or personal reflection, which I remember a lot of my teachers would do,” Molina said.
The particular emotions, thoughts and actions of one event are a thread that can be followed through a person’s entire life. Retrospection and past decisions take on a different lighting. We look toward the future and its choices with a new lens we never anticipated wearing, and yet continue to navigate our lives with.
September 11th evokes a different sensation depending on whom you ask. Some, like Franklin, may relive the tremor and instability of 9/11 and the days that followed, their presence corroborating the tragedy’s continuous aftermath.
Others, like Molina, partake in the country’s yearly healing, backed by teachings of professional and personal accounts. In the same instance, they must also live, grow up and maneuver a world forever shaped by the attacks.
Though these individuals have entirely different means of input, both understand the importance of remembering the 9/11 attacks. For Franklin, that remembrance is rooted in firsthand memories of the day, memories captured by his and his camera’s eyes. For Molina, remembrance is cultivated by people’s stories and their effects on daily life.
September 11 has been and will be remembered for all of this: its effect on people at the time and its everlasting impact from one generation to the next.
