Dan Rather A YEAR is a long time; a year is a short time. By any reasonable standard, the past 12 months have been a long, hard march. The things that happened almost a year ago, the terrible things we will soon memorialise (and that we never forgot), sometimes seem as though they took place in another lifetime. And then there are times when they feel as if they happened yesterday.
What were you doing this time last year? Can you see yourself, maybe squeezing in a few last days of summer fun, getting ready to return to work or school? Do you see a different person from the one you know now? Is there anything you would say to that person about what he or she is about to face?
More than most years, this past one has unfolded in distinct parts. There were, of course, the first dread days and weeks after Sept. 11, the time we lived right in terror's shadow. Those were the days when a new American generation first experienced life during wartime: troops guarding bridges and government buildings, rumours filling the air, and the mobilisation of the armed forces. Anthrax attacks kept an already-rattled nation on edge. City dwellers whispered of fears they could hardly bring themselves to name.
As October passed into November, war raged in Afghanistan. Victory came in early December, and then it was the holiday season. We did what we could to celebrate, reflect and count our blessings.
The new year brought new concerns. News from Afghanistan began to slow. Terrorism and the war against it were never far from our minds, but at some point during this time, most Americans seemed to grow accustomed to them. The wailing sirens at the forefront of our national consciousness started to fade into a background hum.
The spring passed at home amid periodic terror threats and the beginnings of an investigation into the security lapses leading up to that terrible morning. We looked overseas and worried about India and Pakistan and the possibility of nuclear war. We saw despair overtake the Middle East.
And then it was summer again.
We've watched the calendar pages turn inexorably toward that date. Enron, Global Crossing, the stock market and Iraq have all been pressing concerns, but we still hear that background hum, those echoes of 9/11. As the day approaches, the sound grows louder.
Closer we come to Sept. 11, and we feel as if we have been split in two. There is the present self, bracing for the one-year anniversary. And there is the past self, moving ever nearer that moment that hindsight knows is coming.
Now we remember the things we did a year ago - the summer pursuits, the plans for the fall - and we might marvel at our personal innocence, and our national innocence, too. "Only a year ago," one might say, "we had no idea what was on the horizon." Only a year ago, no idea: That claim lasts only a few more days.
Too soon, we will again find ourselves face to face with that page on the calendar. A year passes quickly; a year passes slowly. At New York's Ground Zero, the cleanup is finished, and plans for rebuilding are under way. On Sept. 11, survivors and dignitaries will gather there to remember. After four seasons, a cycle will be closed.
But there will be no closure, not really. Just one more day, and then another, taking us further all the time from the lives we knew. Only a year ago.
Dan Rather is a television news anchor.
