Gun's Quote:
"No."
-Me
It was 25 years ago today. I remember it like it was yesterday. Even if I couldn't, I wrote it down so I would never forget.
The below is a verbatim copy of what I wrote my Sophomore year of High School. It is unedited:
It was my 8th grade year. I had decided to go out for football again, although I honestly wasn't expecting much. The year before, I didn't play at all, except for on the "B" team special teams.
I had always wanted to be a quarterback. I had always wanted to be the one that got the attention, got the ball first, make daring and terrific passes, and be the leader. In 7th grade, however, I wasn't anywhere close to that. I felt like I did nothing that year, so I had to try out the next. I had always been accused of being a nerd in those years, and wanted more than anything to stare my critics in the face and say, "I told you I could play." Since 7th grade wasn't much of anything, I felt compelled to try again.
The actual way I got to quarterback in 8th grade was more luck than anything was. In 7th grade, there were four quarterbacks; in 8th there were just two left, including myself.
It was on that fateful Wednesday two years ago [1997] that the funeral of Craig Watkins was held. Being such a great man and friend of all of us, many of the players decided that they were going to attend the funeral. We had a game the next day, Thursday, and with people leaving that afternoon for the funeral, it was decided that practice would be held on the morning of Thursday. The other quarterback, who would have started, overslept, and therefore I started the game that day. Shear luck was the only thing that I could think of to describe it.
Then, on top of all of that, he broke his collarbone just a few plays after he went in for me! Since there was only one quarterback left, a backup for me was trained, and I knew that my teammates were depending on me to carry out my role on the team. I never would have wished such a thing upon anyone, and more than ever I felt a sense of having a huge responsibility. I also knew that this was my chance to prove myself. Since his injury prevented him from playing for the rest of the season, I was quarterback for the rest of the year, and loved every single minute of it.
Although we never did win a game that year, I did gain a new sense of respect from my peers and from myself. After all, I did prove that I could play, although divine intervention probably had more to do with it then [sic] my own skill, which, to be quite honest, wasn't much anyway. I will never forget that year, and the wonderful times that came along with it. To be in that position, and to surprise everyone around you by doing something they never would have expected, are some of the best feelings I have ever had in my life.
That 8th-Grade football game described above, where I started as quarterback, occurred on September 11th, 1997.
Four years later, there was another memorable - albeit infamous - September 11th.
I was the President of the Student Council my Senior year of High School. The Student Council was responsible for coming up with the Homecoming Theme and planning its parade, floats, decorations and other pageantry. By virtue of a research project I had conducted the year prior for my Junior year's English Class, I discovered, quite by accident, that the football field we played on was first dedicated by the local (now defunct) Wesleyan College in 1901. That meant 2001 was the 100th Anniversary of Cameron football. I would share this fact with the Student Council Officers at a retreat prior to the start of my Senior year, and the theme "Celebrate: A Century of Cameron Football" was chosen. Planning began.
Weeks later, on September 11th, 2001, the Twin Towers fell.
In the coming days, the faculty sponsor of the Student Council pulled all of us officers into her classroom. We were asked to change the theme of Homecoming to something more patriotic, celebrating the heroes of our country, including military, police, fire and ambulance.
To this day, I consider the most important decision I have ever made in my entire life to have happened in that room and at that moment. That seems weird to say today, being an adult, a professional, a home-owner, a college graduate and an uncle. I've made many decisions. Some have been very important and very consequential. But the most important decision I have ever made in my entire life happened when I was a Senior in High School, in a classroom with other Seniors who were Officers of the Student Council that year.
"No," I said.
I'll never forget the look of shock on the faces of the people around me. "I will not let this tragedy define our Senior Year."
We discussed. It wasn't much longer until the four of us Officers were unified in our stance. Of course we loved our country, and of course we desired to honor the memory of those innocent lives lost and the heroes who fell trying to protect them. We did so by observing moments of silence, welcoming veterans, and thanking local law enforcement and public defenders during our Homecoming celebration.
But, we had a Celebration: 100 years of Cameron Football, 21 years ago, in the Fall of 2001.
Perhaps it sounds cheesy, cheeky or perhaps even a bit conceited. Perhaps telling this story is self-serving, overly nostalgic or even risks belittling the events and heroes of that fateful day. Of course, I mean none of these things.
What I mean is that September 11th represents a coming-of-age for me. It is a special day; life-defining even. On September 11th, I grew up. Twice. The first time was 25 years ago, when I grew out of the zit-faced, awkward dork that I was and turned into something a bit more confident, a bit stronger and a bit more adult. The second time would be 21 years ago, when I decided my Class would not be defined by an Attack, but that we would honor and embrace our local heroes, inviting them to Celebrate 100 Years of Cameron Football with us. We would honor our country best by not allowing Terrorists to take away our freedom to Celebrate. That made me a leader.
I have withheld this story for some time, feeling awkward about telling it. Rude even. It seems a story about September 11th should be solemn and sorrowful, focusing and honoring people far more worthy than me. Yet, if all stories about September 11th were tragic and sad, then the Terrorists would have won.
Those bastards didn't win. We may very well have been an inconsequential small town and a bunch of teens just trying to make sense out of the shattered world we were thrust into, but we didn't let those bastards win.
"No," I said.
It was the most important decision I have ever made in my entire life.
...And that's why it's a Gun's Quote!!
