One of Those Moments

Virtually everyone has, at some point, experienced one of those moments where they will later be asked, “do you remember where you were when…?” For my parents’ generation, they range from the assassinations of JFK, RFK, MLK and John Lennon to the moon landing, the explosion of Challenger and many more.

The defining “where were you when…” moment for my generation was always 9/11. Yet this past Sunday night, I had the incredible and unforgettable privilege of experiencing another such moment at its very point of origin.

At about 8 PM on Sunday night, I took a shuttle bus to my school’s auxiliary campus to use its library as I got ready for this past week’s final exams. Around 11:30 or so, I noticed that everyone was being uncharacteristically loud for a library and I began to get frustrated since I was trying to study (I didn’t have my computer with me at the time, so I had no clue what was going on). Finally, I sent a text to a friend of mine who was there, complaining about how obnoxiously loud it was. His response was something to the effect of, “yeah, they’re probably talking about the bin Laden thing.” I had no idea what that meant — but within about five minutes I had figured it out and bolted over to where he was sitting with a few other friends crowded around his computer, watching CNN’s livestream and awaiting President Obama’s address.

Love him or hate him, the President’s address to the nation was phenomenal. Hearing him confirm bin Laden’s death and his description of that day’s events literally gave me the chills. After the address concluded, I went back to studying, figuring that the night was pretty much wrapped up.

At about 1 AM, I got back on the shuttle to go to my room for the night. A half dozen or so other students got on after me, all saying that they were headed to the White House. They said that their parents had been watching the news and that a massive celebration was underway. After ten minutes of overhearing them talk about how incredible the scene at the White House apparently was, I reluctantly decided to head there myself.

I got off the shuttle and made the four block walk over to 1600 Penn. As I approached, the streets were more and more crowded with people and cars were speeding by, laying on their horns and waving American flags out of their sunroofs. When I finally turned the last corner to get a glimpse of the White House’s north lawn, I was blown away. There must have been close to 10,000 people there in what was a totally spontaneous and unplanned celebration. The vast majority of the crowd was my age, or very close to it. Everyone — black or white, male or female, American or foreign born, young or old, Republican or Democrat — was in a euphoric mode of relentless patriotism. Everybody was absolutely pouring over with love for their country, the US military and their fellow American citizens.

For the two hours I was there, I was absolutely stunned by the sense of community that prevailed. For one night, everybody was everyone else’s best friend. The political, socioeconomic and demographic barriers that so frequently divide our country ceased to have any relevance. I’ve never seen so many complete strangers showing each other affection — be it via a hug, a high-five or helping someone down from a tree (and yes, literally every tree was occupied to capacity by people celebrating).

One of the coolest things I saw was a group of Marines who climbed up into a tree, hung a USMC flag from one of the branches and spent an hour singing Marine Corps cheers and fight songs. They received — and I’m not exaggerating here — no less than a full 20-second ovation from the crowds beneath them upon finishing each cheer. You can imagine why I was completely taken aback.

Of course, it didn’t last forever. At around 3 AM, after spending a half hour following Geraldo Rivera around and unsuccessfully attempting to get my 15 seconds of fame on a major cable news network (much like almost all of my friends who were there), I walked back to my room and decided to call it a night. After thinking about it for a while, I was kind of surprised by the magnitude of the celebration. I thought to myself, “I know bin Laden’s death was a big deal, but I had no idea that people would react like that.” And that’s when I realized what the whole night was about.

Yes, bin Laden’s death was obviously the impetus for the celebrations of Sunday night, and that will certainly be the defining event associated with May 1, 2011. But it wasn’t just about celebrating the death of a madman. The people didn’t show up carrying posters showing bin Laden with crosshairs over his face. They were waving American flags and paying tribute to the greatness that is the United States. That’s what it was really about. Osama bin Laden’s death simply gave us the excuse that we’ve been waiting for since 9/11 to demonstrate our love of country that has been so absent from the public view. People weren’t cheering “death to Osama.” They were cheering “U-S-A!” This wasn’t just about bin Laden. This was about all of us coming together as Americans and defying the notion that “one nation, under God, indivisible” is just a cliché. That sense of unbreakable American community still exists, and I got the chance to see it in its purest, rawest form on Sunday.

So where were you when you found out that Osama bin Laden had been killed?

Me? I was right there.