I woke up this morning on the 10th anniversary of the terrorist attacks on the United States to a world that looked remarkably similar.  The sun was shining, the sky was clear... a beautiful September day.  Ten years ago, I was a student at Trent University in Peterborough, Ontario.  It was the start of my third year, and I was excited because it was the first day of my second year World War II course.  I had been on the waiting list for it, and was pretty positive I'd get in.  I had been told to go to the first class and speak to the prof.  The second half of my second year was particularly rough, as my father had passed away in February.  I thought of him often in the days following September 11 and wondered what his thoughts might have been.

I had awoken to the sounds of CBC radio.  They had reported the first plane strike, but at that point information was very sketchy.  From the sounds of the report, it had sounded like a small plane had hit it, not a full fledged passenger jet.  CBC continued with their regular programming, at that point unaware of the severity of the incident.  I got up from bed and prepared breakfast.  My now ex-wife wasn't a breakfast eater, so I usually prepared it myself.  I moved to our living room and turned on the morning news as was my custom most mornings.

At that point, the world turned on its head.  One plane strike had turned into two, and this was no longer a 10 second soundbite on CBC radio.  I remember being transfixed by the news reports, saying very little. I sat, and ate but it was a surreal experience.  By this time, it was clear that this was no accident.  By the time I had to leave for my class, the Pentagon had also been hit.  We were both very upset, and I promised to be back as soon as possible.

Arriving at the school, I ran into people I knew.  The attacks had put the entire school in a buzz of talk and activity.  I arrived at the lecture room and everyone was talking about it.  Of course, some of the reports were still varying widely as to what was going on.  The prof came in. His name escapes me as I write this... Dan something or other.  He was a young professor, barely in his 30s.  He was visibly upset too.  He quickly dealt with the class business and sent us on our way so we could continue to see the coverage.  On a positive note that day, I did get into his course.

I returned home quickly.  During the ride home, the situation had become even worse.  Another plan had crashed in Pennsylvania and by this time, the two WTC towers had collapsed.  The images on the TV were frightening and disturbing.  Video was surfacing of people who had thrown themselves from the building, the debris and ash covered streets of New York, the bewilderment and horror on people's faces.

I had considered packing up the car and driving to the border to see if help was needed in New York.  Maybe there were survivors and others who needed help.  However the media was advising that the border to the US was closed.  I had felt a strong need to help and now felt more than a little helpless.  US airspace had been closed as well.  I remember how eerie the silent skies were.  Many flights flew over Peterborough, and for a couple of days after, the skies were silent.

In the days and weeks that followed, we learned of the insidious nature of the attacks and people mourned.  I remember attending another class at Trent, US History, and despite the current events, the professor, Dan Azoulay (great lecturer, but horrible prof) made it absolutely clear that the attacks were not going to derail the lecture schedule he had laid out and that we were not going to spend much time talking about it.  He turned out to be a real ass in our tutorial groups and by the end of the course, he was widely despised and was not rehired the next semester thanks to our student evaluations of him.

I remember that November 11th was particularly poignant that year and it was unusual in the sense that most November 11ths in this part of the world tend to be gray and rainy.  Not in 2011.  It was another sunny day.  I attended the main service in downtown Peterborough and it was very well attended.

In the years since there have been other terrorist attacks, and the mastermind behind them, Osama Bin Laden, is now dead, buried somewhere at sea after a US Navy SEAL raid earlier this year.  It is perhaps poetic that Bin Laden was killed in the 10th Anniversary year of the attacks.

The world too has changed.  I watched the documentary 102 Minutes That Changed America, and the memories of that day came flooding back.  I was unable to stop my tears for some time during the broadcast.  I read a National Post article, and the closing paragraphs resonated with me (read it HERE):

"During the four decades of struggle against Russia, the Cold War was the frame in which the West saw itself. Our shared consciousness had a purpose — though not one that we would have chosen.

With the crumbling of communism after 1989, the West lost that frame and lost a sense of its own meaning. In his perverse way, Bin Laden had something right: He saw the signs of decadence and corruption.

Today, as it continues to fight a resourceful enemy, the West finds itself in an uncommonly weak position. It took success for granted too long and borrowed too much against it. Most of the democracies now suffer from disastrously wrong-headed national budgeting, a persistent economic slump and politicians driven to distraction by partisanship.

For the first time since 1945, the way of life invented by the Enlightenment shows serious signs of cracking. Incredibly, its future as the intellectual engine of mankind is in doubt. With the help of the external threat from radical Islam, we may have reached one of those places where a civilization finds a way to revive itself or quietly accepts that it has permanently lost its way."

The world certainly has changed since September 11, 2001, and not necessarily in good ways.  The Western world needs to take a long hard look at itself and decide what is going to happen next... will we, as Fulford suggests, revive ourselves, or will the decades of decadence and corruption finally seal our fate?

 Please say a prayer or whatever it is you do to remember those who died, not only in the attacks, but also the brave service men and women of many nationalities who have given the ultimate sacrifice to combat terror.

PS - I welcome anyone reading this post to respond with comments, particularly how you remember September 11 and how it has impacted your life.