In this weeks post I take some time to wind back the clock again. This time I go back to before I joined the Air Force. This post can be considered a sort of prequel to my last blog “Never Forgotten” and details my experience on 9/11. These life experiences I capture in my blog posts represent the indirect influences on my art journey, and direct influences to my worldview. A worldview which translates into why I draw such dark, depressing, and military themed art—aside from being a Veteran. If you are enjoying these posts, please let me know in the comments. I would like to know what you like, don’t like, and if there are other subjects you’d like me to explore.
The Twin Towers (9/11/2001)
On 9/11/2001, I was a 16 year old Junior in high school. The school year was just beginning as I was getting into a new routine at a new school in the city of Waterford, Michigan. My mom and I had a falling out over the summer. I don’t remember the specifics, but we definitely had some disagreements to say the least. I had lived with my mom for the previous six or seven years; my parents have been divorced since I was two. Due to our inability to rectify our differences, I chose to move back in with my dad, step-mom, and two younger siblings. I often felt like the black sheep of the family and did my own thing a lot. Especially once I started working, purchased my own car, and made friends with some of the older miscreants where I worked. They were a pretty immature pack of misfits—but I was a misfit too, so they made me feel accepted.
When the first tower was hit, I was sitting in an art class at a table full of a bunch of class clowns and jokers—more misfits. I guess I have a knack for finding them. I happened to know one of them from the trailer park I lived in with my mom. We became friends that year and drove to school together for a while since he lived nearby. At the time, I don’t think I had real intention on learning art, I just preferred to draw over paying attention in my other classes. I took the class likely as an escape. The teacher would later push me into more advanced art classes. But, that morning I feel like she was missing for quite some time—probably discussing the situation and what they should be telling students.
At some point my art teacher would return to the classroom and flip on an old box TV probably from the 1980’s with the news coverage of the first tower having been hit. I remember watching intently and seeing what appeared to be debris falling as smoke billowed up from the top of the tower. I think the table full of clowns (including me) was joking around as we normally did. We didn’t quite understanding what was unfolding. I later learned that much of the debris was actually people jumping from the tower to escape the intense heat of the fire from the jet fuel of the plane that had hit it.
When the second tower was hit, the mood in the class shifted. The school went rather quickly into lockdown and there was a sense that this was more than just a situation impacting New York City. I don’t remember much more about the day other than the terrible feelings that watching the towers fall invoked within me. I also believe we were released early and may have had the following day off. I remember having conversations with my dad about what happened and he would make some correlations between the attack on the Twin Towers with Pearl Harbor. I knew at the least it meant we’d be going to war. I didn’t know at the time how much of my life the endless war would eventually dictate.
I wish I could say that I had a strong sense of patriotism on that day and that it would drive me to join the Air Force two years later when I graduated, but it wouldn’t be true—at least not entirely. I did feel strongly that we, the United States, should go kick some ass somewhere. But, I didn’t really know what that meant. I was just a teenager caught in my own life struggles and trying to find my place in the world. So, for the next few years I wasn’t really paying attention to the war in Afghanistan.
Conclusion
This week’s post is somewhat short, but will be continued in a few related follow on posts. In the few years after 9/11, I would focus primarily on my grades in school, preparing to go to the Center for Creative Studies in Detroit when I graduated, and becoming a famous artist—a dream of mine at the time that never came true. But, I have’t given up art yet. Which is why I continue to draw and refine my skills as often as I can. Again, if you liked this post, let me know in the comments. I look forward to hearing from you!
I’m intrigued to read more about your decision to join the Air Force.