Patriot Day

09/07/2021

3 Ways to Support 9/11 Survivors 20 Years After

How can you help and support 9/11 survivors 20 years after the 2001 terrorist attack? If you know people whose lives changed forever that day — people who lost friends and loved ones and health — let them know you’re aware of their private grief as the world commemorates their public loss 20 years later.

If you think 20 years later might be too late to say or do something, think again.

Remember how travel changed after 9/11? Public outcry, grief, and reactions rose all over the world. Policies and practices shifted post-9/11, causing radical changes that still seem inconvenient. That’s just just one aspect of how public life still feels the impact 20 years later.

Now, think about the personal, private impact. The families and friends of those who died on 9/11 (and because of 9/11) underwent far greater grief and upheaval in not just one area but all parts of their lives. For these survivors, the 20th anniversary of September 11, 2001, isn’t just about what happened when four hijacked planes inflicted devastation. It’s about what happened when the survivors lives were devastated.

So please, reach out. Acknowledge their loss. Then ask and listen to what they need. You can’t fix anyone’s grief, but you can let them know you care.

Peaceful but somber scene where tall bird faces right toward near and far sets of U. S. flags at Woodlawn Cemetery in Orlando, Florida.
Tall bird faces right toward U. S. flags on graves at Woodlawn Cemetery, Orlando, Florida (photo by Teresa TL Bruce).

First, Reach Out, Even If It Seems Awkward.

What if you haven’t spoken to your bereaved friend, relative, former colleague, or neighbor in a while? What if you aren’t sure whether you should say anything about their 9/11-related loss or not? What if you’re afraid it will be awkward?

There’s one simple answer: Reach out anyway.

Supporting survivors isn’t about you and your discomfort. It’s about extending compassion to help others.

It takes almost no effort to send a text, private message, or an email that says, “Hey, I’m thinking about you.” While such a simple message won’t convey specific sentiments, it will show the person they are cared about. It also extends a bridge toward deeper communication.

If you have a closer, more comfortable relationship with the person, consider reaching out in a more direct way with a phone call, an invitation to meet for lunch, or a plate of cookies dropped off with a hand-written note.*

Of course, whether yours is a closer friendship or a more distant acquaintance, you could even send an old-fashioned letter in the mail at any time now or in the future (because grief doesn’t disappear when an anniversary passes). It will cost you very little — postage, paper, and a few minutes — but it will show the recipient tangible proof that someone remembers.

Second, Acknowledge Their Loss.

Well-meaning people sometimes hesitate to speak of their friends’ dead loved ones, afraid that to acknowledge their loss will somehow remind survivors to feel sad again. But 9/11 survivors and others who grieve haven’t forgotten those who died. (Unless your friends have severe memory impairment caused by age, illness, or injury, you won’t remind them because they haven’t forgotten.)

If you remember the names of the ones who died, use their names. After you’ve reached out, consider acknowledging their specific loss. Try something like this:

  • “I remember that your son [say his name here] died on 9/11. I’m so sorry.”
  • “I’ve been thinking about your best friend [say her name here] as the anniversary of 9/11 approaches. I know you miss her.”

If you don’t remember the names, that’s okay. You can still say “your husband,” “your cousin,” “a friend,” “your co-workers,” etc.

You can even be vague if you need to: “I remember that 9/11 impacted you personally. I’m sorry.”

If your friend survived the traumas of 9/11 with altered health, don’t hesitate to reach out, but do be sensitive. Let your relationship guide how much you say:

  • For co-workers, casual friends, and acquaintances, keep your acknowledgments general. “Hey, I know this is a tough time of year. You’re in my thoughts and prayers.”
  • For closest family members and family-by-choice friends, it might be appropriate to speak more specifically. “I’m sorry your lungs still ache from what happened on September 11.”
  • If in doubt, say less, but do say something. “This is a hard anniversary. I’m here if you want to talk.”

Third, Ask and Listen.

I could have listed Ask and Listen as separate ways to support 9/11 survivors, but they belong together. Be considerate and thoughtful about what you will ask and how you will listen.

Be Specific Without Being Nosy.

Most people who are grieving don’t like hearing the general question “How are you?” Complex emotions make it an impossible question to answer. (Learn more at “Better Questions than ‘How are you?’ — Part 1 — Why.” ) Show you care by asking specific yet not too personal questions. These ideas might help you brainstorm your own:

  • “Would you like to share some of your memories about [name the person] from before 9/11?“
  • “Would you like to hear a few of my memories of [name their person]?“
  • “Since this is a tender time for you, would you prefer extra space and privacy, or would you prefer company? I’m available to act as a buffer or hang out. Whatever you need.“
  • “Do you have a preferred organization or cause I can donate to in honor of [the name of their person]?” (See Bonus Ways below.)

Listening Might Be the Hardest Part.

You’ve reached out. You’ve acknowledged their loss. You’ve asked a meaningful (but not nosy) question. Now stop talking.

Listen.

Don’t try to “fix” their grief.

Don’t judge that they should be “over it by now.”

Don’t point out ways they’ve been strong or how well they’ve “moved on” (unless they ask you to).

Listen to what they say about their loss and about how it impacts them today.

Respect What Your Grieving Friend Says, Especially When It’s Hard to Hear.

Listen to body language (in person or via video chat) as well as words and tone.

  • They might not want to talk about it now (and might even snap at you if emotions are running high). That’s okay. They’ll know you made an effort, and if they feel a need to talk to someone later, they’ll know you were willing.
  • Or, they might need to talk and talk and talk and even cry to someone who will LISTEN. So, be sure you’ve set aside time to let your friend talk without rushing, shushing, or pushing him or her toward any conclusion. Let them decide how long is enough.
  • Listening means hearing out, nodding, mm-hmming, being there. Listening does not mean “fixing” anything, confronting or challenging assertions, or rebutting what’s expressed.

Grief, even 20 years after, tends to erode filters, so you might hear things you wouldn’t have expected from your bereaved friend. That’s okay too.

Bonus Ways to Support 9/11 Survivors

If the three ways listed above seem too uncomfortable or if you don’t know anyone personally impacted by the events of September 11, 2001, you can still do something meaningful on Patriot Day — or any day.

Donate to Reputable Charities.

Many nonprofit organizations benefit 9/11 survivors and could use contributions. But do due diligence. Research carefully to make sure they will use your funding in ways you approve. (The Better Business Bureau’s Give.org is one place you can check.)

Volunteer for a Good Cause.

Choose a service organization that helps others, and spend an hour (or more) in lending a hand. If you already have a favorite organization, great! If not, sites like JustServe.org can help you match your time and abilities with volunteer opportunities and community needs in your area.

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*With cases of COVID-19 ongoing, please maintain best practices of doing no harm. Follow the guidelines of your local health officials if you offer in-person support to grieving friends or acquaintances.

09/11/2015

Remembering 9/11 can help you understand the bereaved

On September 11, 2001, life in the United States skidded to a stop when nearly 3,000 people perished because of terrorist attacks. If you were the age of a young school child or older, you remember the moment you heard the news.

Dismay.

Shock.

Denial.

Distress.

Panic.

Fury.

It was a few minutes after 9:00 a.m. when the phone rang. My friend’s voice was clipped. “Are you watching TV?”

My husband was sound asleep after his night shift. I’d taken our younger children to elementary school. Back at home I folded laundry while our oldest daughter painted on canvas. Soon we’d delve into the academic part of her seventh grade curriculum. My friend knew I homeschooled during the day, so it was odd she’d call, let alone assume the TV might be on during school hours. “No. Why?”

“Turn it on.”

“To what?”

“Anything. Any channel.”

Dismay. Shock. Denial. Distress. Panic. Fury.

I cried for those whose lives were lost. I cried harder for the loved ones who lost them.

It was a huge thing. A devastation.

A travesty. An assault.

A violation.

In the days that followed, the attacks were all anyone talked about — even when mentioning the heroics of the many, many selfless souls who stepped into the fray to help others.

None of us knew then the long-term impact of that day’s events. First responders from New York City’s police and fire departments, and others, continued losing life and health in the aftermath of the initial casualties.

(Casualties. What a calloused, indifferent word — as if any of those killed or maimed or bereaved came to that definition by casual, effortless chance.)

Families were shattered by death, disability, and despair. Businesses and livelihoods were lost along with the lives they’d once supported.

For those of us living far away, not personally knowing victims or their families, and not having our everyday routines disrupted beyond that first day’s screeching halt, we felt for them and we cried with them and we sacrificed and contributed for them. But our everyday life, for the most part, went on.

The impact of 9/11 changed us all, some more than others. Global news coverage and the scale of the tragedy made it difficult to ignore, and visible memorials and annual commemorations ensure we will never forget.

For those whose loved ones were lost, the personal impact of 9/11 is impossible to forget. Visual reminders of their absent loved ones are everywhere they look. Annual commemorations extend beyond Patriot Day on September 11 to include every holiday, birthday, anniversary, and seasonal tradition.

A decade and a half later, mourning survivors I’ve met since have “moved forward” with their lives. I won’t diminish their losses by claiming they “resumed” life in the same manner as those of us who were not personally impacted. Life, as it was Before, ended that day. Life, as they eventually learned how to live again, evolved slowly in the After.

Of course, other people died that day, too. People all around the world. One was Karl, a sweet, elderly man in my congregation at church. His death received no national fanfare. No acclaim. His kindly widow’s loss was overshadowed by the quantity of publicized loss, but Ruth’s private grief was just as real.

At the time I felt badly for her. I admired her courage and strength as she tearfully expressed her beautiful belief that her husband was needed in heaven to help soothe and greet the many souls who’d been taken from mortality that day. I prayed for her, and I told her I was praying for her, and I sent notes once in a while.

But I was clueless. I had no idea of what her loss meant to her. How could I? That was a decade before I shared the designation of widow. A decade before new bereavement taught me the private manifestations of receiving the news that another loved one was dead.

Dismay. Shock. Denial. Distress. Panic. Fury.

In the months that followed my husband’s death, coping with that was all I could think about, even though there were many selfless souls who reached out to me in compassionate gestures. But their everyday lives went on.

Now, whenever our nation pauses for a moment of silence to honor the victims and heroes of 9/11, my understanding of what they experienced remains fractional, but I am more aware than I was. I will never be able to fully understand what any of them endured. But I do know how I felt in my own dismay-shock-denial-distress-panic-fury grieving. And my empathy for them has grown.

(Ruth, I don’t know where you live now, but please know I think of you and Karl today, as I think of the thousands of others for whom September 11 has such significance.)

I remember.