
"What is Osama Bin Laden?" That's what I asked my
mother when I finally got through to her via my cell phone moments after the Sept. 11 terrorist attacks. It was in the pre-internet-connected cell phone days, and I was stuck in a commuter train
tunnel under Manhattan heading north from the city when I called to see if she -- a Lower Manhattan resident -- was okay.
"I bet it was Osama Bin Laden," she had told me when we finally
connected, and I was later embarrassed to realize it was a "he" and not a "what," and that I had been so woefully ignorant that al-Qaeda had been threatening America for its role in the Middle
East.
I realized that as informed as I was about the media industry, I was ignorant about foreign affairs. That changed for me -- and many other Americans -- that day, because as tragic as the
physical attacks were on our people and soil, the bigger and far more lasting effect was a media one as we saw -- and continue to see -- the attacks play out in screens, as well as the depths of our
own minds and imagination.
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It was the most visceral and successful form of "terrorism" the world had ever seen, and al-Qaeda didn't just use our commercial airline industry to create it,
but our commercial media industry to amplify, spread and preserve it over time.
I was working for Steven Brill's Brill Media at the time covering much the same subject matter I cover today,
and because I often filter things through the lens of media, I immediately began making the connection between the media and terrorism.
In fact, it was only a week later that another kind of
terrorist attack hit the media industry directly: a letter received by NBC News containing anthrax that was intended for then evening news anchor Tom Brokaw.
At the time, Brill Media's offices
were in Rockefeller Center, so we shared the same mail distribution system, amplifying the anxiety we were all still feeling after 9/11.
A quarter century later, that terror still permeates
America's psyche, even among those who were not alive when it happened, according to an Ipsos poll conducted last
month to mark the 25th anniversary.
The self-reported poll, which also asked Americans who were alive and remember where they were when they first saw the attacks, found that nearly two-thirds
actually watched it live on TV as it was happening.
That's not quite as high as the 90%-plus percentage of Americans who watched the first moon landing live on TV, but to put it in more
commercial media terms, it's about twice the percentage who watch the Super Bowl each year.
When I think about it, I imagine al-Qaeda planned the attacks to maximize live TV coverage at the
start of a weekday morning, as well as the residual replays that would be televised throughout the day and in the days, weeks and years that followed.
And while I personally do remember
watching the moon landing live, I find it ironic that a TV-generation media junkie like me did not view the 9/11 attacks live, and only heard the events relayed to me by word-of-mouth -- first by my
commuter train conductor's updates on the public address system, then the chatter of fellow commuters who got through to others on their cell phones, and finally when I got through to my mother.
It was a profound theater of the mind media experience for me personally, but the horror I imagined in my head couldn't match what I saw when finally got home and saw the replays on TV.
I
don't fault the media industry for amplifying the impact of the 9/11 terrorist attacks. It is the industry's job to keep us informed, as horrible as the information may be at times.
And
overall, I think the media industry -- especially TV -- has been prudent in its replaying of the events. And especially by serving as our collective electronic hearth when we commemorate it each year,
including its 25th anniversary today.