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My younger son just called to ask me if I know of any 9/11 commemorations in the area today. He was dismayed that there were none on his college campus. I looked on-line and couldn’t find any listed. The only suggestions I found for Patriot Day (not the same as Patriots’ Day in MA, commemorating the Battles of Concord and Lexington and observed through the running of the Boston Marathon) were to lower flags to half-staff and have a moment of silence at 8:46 AM.

This futile search reminded me of another column I had written in the aftermath of 9/11. It was published in the Burlington County Times, on March 18, 2002. Although the examples cited are dated, the sentiments remain the same.

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It’s now just over six months since the terrorist attacks of September 11. Shortly after the horrific events of that day, President Bush called for a return to normalcy. Of course, for the families and friends of the victims, life will never again be normal, but for the rest of us, it’s business as usual. Unfortunately.

The Republicans, led by Vice President Cheney, have blamed former President Clinton for the attacks, saying that he did not do enough to curb terrorism. The Democrats, of course, blame the Republicans for not having acted on tips that such an attack was imminent. It’s politics as usual.

The residents of New York City are at odds with each other about how to use the former World Trade Center site. Should the Towers be rebuilt? Should there be a complex of smaller buildings? Should the site be developed into a park dedicated to the victims? It’s urban development as usual.

The survivors of the attacks are at loggerheads about the compensation that has been offered to them. Should they accept the government’s offer and forfeit the right to sue? Or should they take their chances on the court system? It’s the litigious society as usual.

Kenneth Feinberg, who is in charge of the reimbursement fund authorized by Congress, is in the unenviable position of having to decide who gets what. Should Social Security survivor benefits be deducted? Should life insurance policies? Is a 26-year-old single man or woman who earned a six-figure salary worth less than a 26-year-old married man or woman with two children who earned a six-figure salary? What about the 26-year-old single mother who barely made minimum wage? Or the 62-year-old grandfather approaching retirement? How can a value be put onto a human life? It’s moral dilemmas as usual.

And then there are those who believe that no amount of money could ever compensate the families for the loss of loved ones, so we shouldn’t cheapen their memories with money. And there are those who agree that no money should be given, but for a different reason: why compensate the families of people who happened to be in the wrong place at the wrong time? It’s resentment as usual.

Some families who lost loved ones at different places are angry. Those whose relatives were killed at the Pentagon or on Flight 93 feel that those stories are being lost in all the attention being paid to the World Trade Center victims. Those whose relatives were on the airplanes that hit the Towers and the Pentagon feel that the media, by focusing on the heroics of those on Flight 93, are by implication calling the others cowards for not resisting. Those whose family members were lost in the Pentagon feel that their memories are being slighted because they were military personnel not civilians. It’s publicity as usual.

The same airline passengers who refused to fly after September 11, driving some airlines to the brink of bankruptcy and others over the edge, are now complaining that they have to arrive at the airports early to go through security checks. They’re complaining when flights are delayed or airports closed because of terrorist threats or security breaches. They’re even complaining about the cutback in food service. It’s “don’t inconvenience me” as usual.

Right after September 11, Americans opened their wallets – and their pantries and garages – as never before. Dog kibble, bottled water, blankets, latex gloves, and other materials were donated in such quantities that warehouses are still filled with thousands of items that weren’t needed. And we gave an estimated $1.2 billion to the American Red Cross and other relief organizations large and small, local and national. But the distribution of the monies has been mired in controversy – how should it be spent? Who should coordinate the efforts? Should the donations be used only to help victims of September 11, or can they be used to help victims of other disasters, both natural and war-related, as well? It’s money-grubbing as usual.

And there are the problems that are now facing non-profit organizations, who have seen their donations shrink after the largesse of September 11. Is it really charity if you give to an emergency fund and then do not contribute to a different fund at your usual level? Yes, those who had never given before and did make contributions after September 11 were generous. But those who deducted their September 11 donations from the amounts they generally give to other groups were not. It’s selfishness as usual.

It’s true that we cannot live at the same level of alertness, stress, and sadness as we did right after September 11. But, somehow, I don’t think this is what President Bush meant by “normalcy.”

The following column was published in the Philadelphia Inquirer on September 11, 2003. I could have written it today.

On Tuesday morning, Sept. 11, 2001, I was driving to work as usual. Around 8:30, after hearing that all the routes to my office were clear, I switched from KWY to a music station. I kept switching back and forth between two classic rock stations trying to find something I liked, preferably from 1968. In the meantime, my brain was in its classic stream-of-consciousness overdrive, part of it paying attention to the road while the rest of it was engaged in random ramblings. “Next Wednesday’s Rosh Hashanah, so I better make sure I’m caught up at the office ….

“…. What should I make for all our guests for lunch? Chicken? Whole? Cutlets? Apricots or mushrooms? Nuggets for the kids ….

“…. Kids… Better get the invites for my son’s birthday party in the mail ….

“ …. Mail … wonder if the order from Amazon will come today? ….

“…. When are my library books due? I’d better call ….

“…. Phone calls … call and find out when I can pick up the key for the classroom ….

“…. Better email the instructor and find out when he wants me to visit his class ….

“….Why does my ABS warning light keep going on? Why does it keep going off? Where’s the manual? ….

“….Better clean out the glove compartment ….

“…. When can I get to a car wash? The car’s filthy ….

“…. Filthy, better get the house cleaned before the company next week. Gotta get the dining room table cleared off ….

“…. Where to put the unfinished jigsaw puzzle? Under the couch?….

“…. How many people? 8-9-10… oh, 12. Do we need a booster? Better plan to open the extra table ….

“…. Should I get cut flowers or a plant for a center piece? ….

“…. Maybe I should put some new flowers in the flower boxes on the front porch ….

“…. But something keeps digging them up ….

“…. Cat was in the backyard this morning, stalking the birds….

“…. Too sleek and healthy looking to be feral ….

“…. Why do people let their cats roam freely? They wouldn’t let their dogs out unleashed ….

“…. Or would they? ….

“…. Cats are my favorite animal, but not when they trespass in my back yard with murderous intent ….

“…. Check ‘net for statistics on numbers of birds killed by cats, life expectancy of outdoor vs. indoor cats ….

“…. Statistics … have to remember to compile the registration figures for the dean ….

“…. When’s the faculty meeting?….

“…. What time’s the back-to-school night? ….

“…. Where’s my Palm Pilot? Stop groping in your bag while driving ….

“…. Driving …. this traffic’s driving me crazy ….

“…. When are they planning to start the Rte. 73 overpass?….

“…. Rte. 73…. wonder when L. L. Bean is opening? ….

“….. Oops, here I am at the office. Oh, good, there’s actually a parking spot near the door.”

I walked into the lobby, said a casual “good morning” to the receptionist, who snapped back, “What’s so good about it?” Two hours later, our building was closed, and my thoughts on the drive home were very different. I was embarrassed by the banality of my earlier ones.

On the drive home, I kept hearing the voice of an Israeli student berating her classmates: “You Americans are so complacent. Now you know what we Israelis go through every day of our lives!”

I kept seeing the second plane slam into the side of the building, with the resultant fire ball.

I kept seeing the towers tumbling.

I kept switching from station to station, searching for the latest news, not Janis Joplin.

I worried about my friends who work in Lower Manhattan. “Is Carol, who is a deputy commissioner for New York City, okay? Is she helping with the rescue efforts? Do Phyllis and Henry, who are financial analysts, work near there? I know Paula, who lives on the Upper East Side, is on maternity leave, but where does her husband Drew work?….

“….And my kids. Have they heard? Is school canceled? How is my 8-year-old reacting? He must be terrified. How can I make sense of this for them when I can’t understand it myself?”

All truisms are trite because they are repeated time and again. But life does go on. I am back to my trivial thoughts. I’m planning this year’s Rosh Hashanah The traffic on Rte. 73 is still heavy, and L. L. Bean opened on schedule. Something is still digging up the flowers in my boxes.

But I’ve never again used the phrase “trespassers with murderous intent” about cats.

Today’s “guest blogger” is my younger son, Ari. Since the summer of 2007, just before he turned 13, he has attended Camp Ramah, a Jewish overnight camp under the aegis of the Conservative Movement, in Conover, WI. He went to Ramah Wisconsin rather than to the Camp Ramah in the Poconos because the Tikvah (“Hope”) special needs unit in Wisconsin is geared specifically for children and young adults on the Autism Spectrum. For the past two summers (2011 and 2012), he has been in the Atzmaim (“Independence”) unit, for high school graduates. The program’s participants work at jobs in the nearby town of Eagle River while participating in camp activities as members of the staff, living and eating with staff, and learning valuable life skills.

A few weeks ago, we made the trek to camp for visiting day (Philadelphia to Detroit to Green Bay by plane, followed by a 3-hour drive to our motel in Eagle River, and then another 20 minutes to the camp – basically, arrive in the Middle-of-Nowhere, North Woods, WI, turn left, and keep driving). Many staff members, including the camp director and the former director, who is still involved in the camp, visited the parents waiting to enter the camp property. Both the current and former directors came separately to our car and told us the same story:

The previous Friday night, Tikvah and Atzmaim campers led Shabbat evening services, and Ari had been asked by the staff to speak during services about his experiences at camp. (We had known about the honor, as Ari had mentioned it when he had called us the previous Wednesday.) A thunder storm was approaching, so the services were moved from the lake front to an indoor community room. It was crowded and hot, not exactly ideal conditions for speaking without a microphone. During Ari’s remarks, not a sound could be heard in the room. When he finished, 650 people, many with tears in their eyes, gave him a standing ovation.

Here is a copy of his speech. (When necessary, I have translated the Hebrew terms in brackets.       

Shabbat Shalom [Peaceful Sabbath].

Tikvah. This common Hebrew word, meaning “Hope,” has been used all throughout Jewish history. It can be found in so many places that the Israeli national anthem takes the word for its title: HaTikvah. The word has also meant a lot to me in my own life. Six years ago, I came to Camp Ramah in Wisconsin with almost no hope. I had struggled at other summer camps and was pessimistic about my chances for success. In 2007, my father told me that he wanted to send me to an environment that was friendly for people like me. He found the Tikvah program here and as they say: Vizohi Rak Hahatchalah – This was only the beginning.

When I first started Tikvah I was the only person standing in my circle. But during my summers here I began to see myself growing and changing in positive ways. Tikvah helped me make these changes – not by forcing a new perspective on me, but by helping me realize my own potential. It took a growing circle of people here to guide me to that conclusion. The Tikvah tzevet [staff] I had over the years -Ralph Schwartz, Barak Lanes, Joseph Eskin, and especially Daniel Olson -struggled with me in some areas. But for every hard time there was a learning experience for me, and possibly even for them. 

The circle gets bigger with all of the friends who supported me too. They were my Tikvah aidah [unit] mates, of course. They shaped my summers by sharing brilliant ideas for Tikvah Lunch Theaters, and filling my free time with fun antics. They are my friends for life.

The circle is completed by all the Machon aidot [units] that spent their summers with Tikvah. Without Machon ’07, ’08, ’09 and ’10, many fun things like the plays we did, the sports we played, and chaver [friendship] time in particular would not have been nearly as fun.I would like to ask anyone who has ever been in that circle – Tikvah campers, Tikvah staff, and Machon chaverim, past and present – to rise. Na Lakum [Please stand.] *PAUSE* Look how big this circle is! I realize now, six years later, because of all of you, that my time in Tikvah was one of the best times of my life. Na Lashevet. [Please sit.]*PAUSE*

If Tikvah was designed to help me feel comfortable in my own skin, Atzmayim is helping me discover an even bigger circle: the adult world. I was nervous to begin this program because I was so comfortable as a Tikvah camper. After much encouragement from Ralph Schwartz and Margaret Silberman, however, I was willing to give it a shot. I now work at the Olson Memorial Library in EagleRiver, which has friendly staff and provides an easy-going environment. Working at the library really has been a benefit to me, and it helped me get a job at a radio station back home.

My work at the library would not have been as successful without the daily social and job skills class we have led by Scott Rosen. Scott is a very helpful individual who is full of insight and knowledge, and he has helped to fuel my summers in Atzmayim even when I was having a difficult time. Indeed, in both Tikvah and Atzmayim, the tzevet [staff] have been truly exceptional.

On behalf of all members of the Tikvah program – past, present, and future – I would like to conclude by saying that Camp Ramah in Wisconsin has become a large part of all of our lives. The members of this community here have encouraged all of us to make a name for ourselves in the world. I am so proud of my affiliation with CampRamah and have so many moments and memories that I am excited to share with an even bigger audience. Of course, the most important audience is already sitting right in front of me. Todah Rabah L’Kulam Sh’Yoshvim Po [Many thanks to all of you who are sitting here], for making us the people we are today, as well as the people we may become in the future.

Shabbat Shalom.