On 9/11

In September 2001, I was an adjunct instructor in the paralegal program at San Antonio College. Before I left home, the first plane had crashed into a tower. I assumed some idiot in a Cessna tried to fly between the towers and screwed up. By the time I got to work, the other plane crashed into the second tower. Like many others, it was only then that I understood we had been attacked.

No one knew what else might happen that day, so the San Antonio College administration canceled classes. The parking lot was a snarled mess as everyone tried to leave at the same time. Rather than get into that, I found a spot in the shade of a tree to read and smoke a cigar.

A student approached me and asked what I thought. I replied that the attacks were acts of war and that we were at war. He disagreed, offering as his reason that he did not trust the Bush administration to conduct a war.

But whether you trust an administration to conduct a war has nothing to do with whether you are in one. We were at war. And we still are.

Follow-up:

Here’s what I posted last year.

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Thoughts from 9/11/2003 That Are Still Pertinent Today

This James Lileks column was written for September 11, 2003, two years after the towers fell.  He accurately predicted what has happened, and I believe, what will continue to happen.

The world will not end. It will roll around in its orbit until Sol expires of famine or indigestion. In the end we’re all ash anyway – but even as ash, we matter. The picture at the top of this page is a sliver taken from a 9/11 camera feed. It’s the cloud that rolled through lower Manhatttan when the towers fell. Paper, steel, furniture, plastic, people. The man who took the picture inhaled the dust of the dead. Somewhere lodged in the lung of a New Yorker is an atom that once belonged to a man who went to work two years ago and never came back. His widow dreads today, because people will be coming and calling, and she’ll have to insist that she’s okay. It’s hard but last year was harder. The kids will be sad and distant, but they take their cues from her, and they sense that it’s hard – but that last year was harder. But what really kills her, really really kills her, is knowing that the youngest one doesn’t remember daddy at all anymore. And she’s the one who has his eyes.

Read the whole thing.  Hat tip to Instapundit.