Ask the Little Bald Bastard

I was at work when it happened.
  When I am old an gray and so riddled with Alzheimer's that I can't even recall which hand I use to adjust my glasses, I will still be able to remember turning on the radio and hearing them say that a plane had crashed into the World Trade Center.
  I also remember riding in my mother's car and hearing the radio say that the Challenger had exploded. That was in 1986, and I can still remember the smell of the heater, the frost riming the rear windows, and the chill of the leather seats. The man on the radio was describing it as it happened. He sounded much like the poor soul whose voice we so often hear breaking down at the sight of the Hindenburg's immolation. I remember him babbling something about seeing an escape pod, which later turned out to just be more smoke and debris. I was actually kind of angry at that guy, for giving me that kind of false hope.
  Almost everyone has an indelible moment like this stamped on their psyche. Whether it's a shared experience, like the Kennedy assassination (part I or II), or more personal, like the morning Mom sat my sister and me down on the couch to tell us that her father had died, tragedy has a way of searing itself onto the brain, knotting itself into the neurons in such a powerful way that it becomes a vivid beacon in an otherwise grey, featureless fog of faded recollection.
  It may seem morbid or grotesque that these events stand out so markedly, and rehashing them may strike you as distasteful. On the contrary, I believe it is absolutely vital that we always remember the impact that events like this have on us. They are a powerful reminder that history isn't something that was used up by the things that happened before we were born, and it's not just black-and-white war film or Ken Burns documentaries. History happens every day, and it's our responsibility to make sure that the people who are going to inherit this country and this planet from us have more than just record debt and the possible insolvency of Social Security and Medicare to remember us by. They need to know that this country is not a monolith. It is vital and creative, capable of growth and change and vulnerable to injury. Most importantly, they need to know how these things affect ordinary people.
  The feeling of pride and unity that developed two years ago seems to have all but evaporated. If we share our stories and remind each other what we felt for the victims, for ourselves, and for our country, maybe we can recapture some of that sense of ourselves as a nation.
  Then again, there's an election season right around the corner...