September 12th and the Echoes of Resilience

September 12th and the Echoes of Resilience: My Journey through History, Sports, Music and Philosophy

MetLife Stadium brimmed with anticipation. Fans, a sea of Green team colors interspersed with patriotic attire, took their seats, every gaze filled with a mix of excitement for the game and reverence for the day. The evening’s atmosphere was charged with ACDC’s ‘Thunderstruck,’ amplifying the energy. New York Jets players emerged, clad in their Legacy White throwback uniforms, and alongside coaches donning FDNY caps. Each player carried with them not just an American flag but the weight of history and hope.

The player every New York Jet fan had eagerly awaited was Aaron Rodgers, the legendary quarterback. As he stepped onto the field, holding the American flag, the stadium erupted in a deafening cheer, encapsulating months of anticipation and hope. This union of sport and remembrance was beautifully captured as NYPD Police Officer Brianna Fernandez led the crowd in a heartfelt rendition of the National Anthem, uniting Jets and Bills fans in memory and music.

But as quickly as the euphoria had risen, it was pierced by a sudden jolt of disbelief. In just the fourth play, Rodgers’ foot twisted in a way that made every fan’s heart drop. No one could predict the extent of the injury, but the way he was assisted off the field immediately hinted at its seriousness. The atmosphere shifted palpably — from boundless optimism to a heavy, almost tangible dread.

As the game clock ticked away, bringing us closer to the midnight hour and the hopeful dawn of September 12th, an undrafted rookie named Xavier Gipson was about to etch his name into New York’s rich tapestry of stories. Just hours before, the stadium had gone from a poignant 9-11 remembrance to a stunned silence. Aaron Rodger’s highly anticipated debut as a New York Jet—the prized new quarterback—was cut short, presumably with a season-ending injury, just four plays into the game.

The atmosphere was heavy, the team disheartened. But as history has repeatedly shown, adversity often acts as a crucible for unlikely heroes. In sudden death overtime, amidst the tension and the hushed prayers of thousands, Gipson sprinted 65 yards with a punt return, sealing a victory for the Jets. The stadium, moments ago a cauldron of despair, erupted in electrifying joy. The sight of players and coaches joyfully piling onto each other, juxtaposed against 80,000 fans losing themselves in the moment, was nothing short of cathartic.

Just one year ago on September 11, 2022, I had experienced a similar poignant moment. On the 21st anniversary of 9/11, Madison Square Garden bore witness to more than just a musical performance. Pearl Jam, in the heart of New York City, stirred the very soul of remembrance. Walking into the Garden that night there was a palpable feeling that this was going to be more than just another concert. Goosebumps ran down my spine as rock legend Eddie Vedder opened the show with the deeply emotional and raw song “Release Me”. The crowd singing together to the lyrics “I’ll hold the pain, release me” and “I’ll ride the wave, release me” reverberated as an expression of the path toward that emotional freedom.

The atmosphere grew even more charged when Eddie Vedder took a moment to honor both the somber anniversary and the brave first responders. The depth of his words was evident when he shared a particularly moving conversation. One first responder recounted the days following the attack, emphasizing, “While 9/11 was devastating, the next day, 9/12, was in many ways ‘awesome.’” Before going back to the music, Vedder asked rhetorically, “Why do we need tragedy to come together?”

These ecstatic scenes for me were a powerful flashback. A reminiscent echo from 22 years ago, the unity and resilience felt on September 12th, 2001.

After the 9/11 tragedy, sports had become a haven for many. New York City’s sports teams also played a monumental role in healing wounds. They were symbols of unity, of a city, and a nation coming together. Baseball, America’s pastime, became an avenue for collective healing. The first professional sporting event in New York after the September 11 attacks saw the Mets face off against the Braves. With a swing that resonated through history, Piazza sent a go-ahead, two-run home run into the night, propelling the Mets to a 3-2 victory. This wasn’t just a game-winning hit. As Piazza later reflected,“This isn’t life and death, this is baseball.” But for a moment, it became a symbol of New York’s resilience. Chipper Jones of the Braves echoed this sentiment, noting that fans came to “forget about their troubles for a few hours.”

But to truly grasp the profundity of these emotive moments, I find it enriching to wander through the labyrinthine corridors of history and philosophy. The wisdom accumulated across centuries acts as a lens, adding layers of meaning to our contemporary experiences.

Socrates, in his relentless quest for knowledge, represents an age-old belief in the resilience of the human spirit, always striving to rebuild, learn, and progress. The Athenian philosopher once declared,“The unexamined life is not worth living,” and urged us to “find yourself, think for yourself.” Theseaphorisms, echoing through millennia, serve as guiding lights during my darker hours.

From there, my thoughts often drift toward Friedrich Nietzsche. This German philosopher explored how life’s struggles can forge us, steering humanity toward deeper understandings. As Nietzsche puts it, “He who has a why to live can bear almost any how.” This quote encapsulates the essence of resilience, proposing that a deeper purpose can help us endure even the most backbreaking challenges.

Continuing this intellectual journey, I find myself aligned with Stoicism. A philosophy that focuses not on external events, but on our internal responses to them. As the Roman Emperor and Stoic philosopher Marcus Aurelius wrote, “You have power over your mind—not outside events. Realize this, and you will find strength.”

Finally, venturing into more modern thought, Swiss psychiatrist Carl Jung offers a psychological perspective. Jung believed that moments like Gipson’s touchdown might tap into our collective unconscious, reminding us of shared symbols of triumph and resilience deeply ingrained in our psyche. He observed, “I am not what happened to me, I am what I choose to become,” which resonates with the ethos of resilience that September 12th, post-9/11, signifies for so many of us.

In examining the concept of resilience and the human capacity for hope, my thoughts inevitably turn to my own lineage—a lineage touched by extreme adversity. My great-grandparents, Heinrich and Jenny Baumann, represent for me the epitome of resilience and enduring hope in the face of unimaginable cruelty. Originally from Mosbach, Germany they moved to Allersheim to honor a promise Heinrich made to his father to care for the Jewish cemetery there. Despite the challenges and rising tide of antisemitism, they persevered, making a life in a small community that was progressively turning against them. They were the sort of people who found ways to keep their Jewish faith alive for their daughters even in an isolated place, who adapted to economic hardship by running a small shop, and who maintained their dignity even as their neighbors succumbed to the poison of hate.

In this vein, I find inspiration in the work of Holocaust survivors Victor Frankl and Edith Eger. Frankl, the author of  ‘Man’s Search for Meaning,’ proclaimed that  ‘those who have a “why” to live, can bear with almost any “how”.’ Edith Eger, in her powerful book  ‘The Choice,’ echoes this sentiment, asserting that‘We can choose what the horror teaches us…To stand for hope.’ My great-grandparents couldn’t escape their fate, but they lived their lives on their terms, maintaining their humanity in an inhuman time. They were eventually deported and murdered by the Nazis, their emigration plans thwarted at every turn, but they left an indelible mark on our family history. As with the stories of Frankl and Eger, their story remains a stark testament to the resilience of the human spirit, even in the darkest hours.

This idea of finding ways to connect to wounds from the past through sports, music, profound thoughts of history’s great minds has been a blessing in my life. The message from all remains consistent: Humanity’s spirit, its undying flame of resilience, unity, and hope, can shine brightest in the darkest hours.

For me, as another September 12th dawns, these memories and reflections fortify my belief in our collective strength. With each remembrance, reflection, and rebuilding, I find a glimmer of hope that illuminates my path forward. And in this journey, I’ve come to realize the truth in the words of the Grateful Dead: *“Once in a while you get shown the light, in the strangest of places if you look at it right.”