"Never forget"? How can we?

I see it on T-shirts and bumper stickers at least 3-4 times a week. The shirts are dark blue and there's usually an image of some kind of badge, no doubt to make people think they are authorized by the fire department or police department, and not made by some fly-by-night scumbag who printed them in his basement to make a quick buck off a national tragedy. The date is always huge, with the eleven replaced by an image of the towers, like some cutesy marketing tie-in.

When my alarm clock goes off at 7:14 every weekday morning, I usually hear a snippet from a top 40 song, or the morning zoo DJ doing a phone scam or traffic report. This morning the first words I heard were, "...when the towers came down." I hit the snooze immediately and 9 minutes later I heard the strains of what sounded like a country ballad with the words "survive" and "guilty" and I again turned it off before I could hear more. Looks like I won't be listening to streaming music at my desk until at least 10:00, when the morbid "festivities" are over. I looked out the window and felt grateful that it was cloudy and looked like it might rain; there will be no chance for anyone to say, "It was a bright, sunny September day, just like today."

For the last week the local news stations have been pushing their "live coverage starting at 8 a.m." The ringing of the bells at 8:45 and 9:03, the reading of the names, speeches by local and national politicians, by friends and families. The candles and banners all part of a maudlin, drawn-out "tribute." The media descends on this scene and devours it, making it even more of a circus, a creepy live-action version of "Dirty Laundry." Get the widow on the set. The survivors come together to mourn and cry and relive that day over and over until it becomes sick game of one-upmanship: "I heard about it first." "I saw them come down." "I heard that body hit Father Judge." Then next week they'll all go back to fighting about a memorial and park and a museum and what shows "respect" and what doesn't, what the victims are "entitled" to, and whose family gets their name in the paper this time, as if he who screams the loudest was affected the most.

We were all affected. The entire country. Some more than others, obviously. In these parts everybody has a story of where they were, who they lost, who got out, who would have been there but called in sick or missed their train. And we shared them with anyone who would listen. It was therapeutic in the beginning. It helped us on the path to start healing. But now we're stuck. I don't know if it's the whole country; my perception is skewed by being right in the middle of it. But as a community, at least, seven years later we are definitely stuck.

Giuliani saved this city. He was a hero and a champion. I can't imagine how anyone else could have done a better job in that freakish aftermath. But he's stuck too. Worse, he's keeping the country stuck, and afraid, and angry, and it's all for selfish motivations. Rudy did great things for this city before and after the tragedy, but his time has passed. Bloomberg is living in the now: It's time to move on.

I don't want to forget. We shouldn't forget. And honestly, how could we? Even if there is never another memorial service, never another newscast replaying those horrific images. We simply won't forget. And we don't need T-shirts to tell us.