There were many things that ran through my mind last night as I heard the news of Osama Bin Laden’s death. A spark of morbid pleasure, fear of retaliation, disgust at the images the media chose to broadcast, and a bit of that bombastic American idealism that delights at justice delivered.
The last thing we need is another article drudging up the emotions and memories of September 11. But, like you, I remember it. I was here. That day holds meaning for me. And now, with the death of Bin Laden, some are saying we’ve come full circle and ended a chapter of history. I won’t muse on that.
But this narrative of 9/11 and Bin Laden, it’s a New York City narrative as much – if not more – than a national and international one. To New Yorkers, the pursuit of Bin Laden wasn’t just a story about a global struggle against terrorism. It was the story of our families, friends and loved ones, real people, for whom our nation metes out justice.
Now we’ve certainly ended a chapter that for us rings so much closer to home than a withdrawal of troops from some far-flung land or the election of a new politician. We’ve ended one that affects New Yorkers’ personal need for closure more than any. And we’ve ended a local story, a personal story, a concrete story.
What does Osama Bin Laden’s death mean to you?