9 11 10th anniversary

Lawrence Wright's My Trip to Al-Qaeda and his conversation with today's college students: What do they remember?

Lawrence Wright

Ten years ago, I was sitting in a high school science classroom with my fellow seniors, waiting for the morning tardy bell to ring while the muted morning news played on our teacher’s television.

When the image on the screen switched to the image of a smoking tower, we didn’t know how our tender reality was about to change. We watched a plane fly into the second tower and heard our teacher shout, “My God, we’re under attack!” And just like that, our naiveté was branded on us like a scarlet letter. Who would attack us?

A year later I entered college, and our country prepared for war.

Ten years later, I returned to my alma mater, Southwestern University in Georgetown, Texas, for a screening of My Trip to Al-Qaeda, a documentary based on a one-man play by Pulitzer prize-winning author, screenwriter, New Yorker staff writer and Austin resident, Lawrence Wright.

The play and documentary follow Wright’s experiences reporting on Al-Qaeda, a course of work that culminated in his book for which he won the Pulitzer, The Looming Tower: Al Qaeda and the Road to 9/11. The screening and an accompanying Q&A session with Wright was one of a series of events at Southwestern marking the 10^th anniversary of 9/11.

This is the first year that my students don’t really have a memory of 9/11. They were in third grade.

I was eager to see how the generation of students currently in college was affected by 9/11, and how they would respond to Wright’s film. Do they feel that chill run down their spine, the one brought on by a fellowship with a moment in history when they see footage from 9/11? Most of them were in elementary school when it happened.

Wright’s film explores Bin Laden’s motivations and builds a framework for understanding how Islamic terrorism emerged in the Arab world. He walks us through his journalistic process professionally and with great honesty, admitting the encounters and interviews that ignited his emotions.

The film summons my own memories of watching news coverage of the war, of kidnappings, of beheadings, and the anger I felt. I wonder, do the present-day college students relate to the fear and helplessness so many of us felt in our dorms, offices and living rooms?

During the Q&A session with Wright, I got my answer. The students’ questions all focused on the future. How have things changed since you wrote the book? How does identity play a role in the conflict? What does the Arab Spring, the recent wave of revolutions and protests, mean for the Arab world? What are your thoughts on the future of Saudi Arabia? They didn’t ask about September 11th.

A number of the students asking questions of Wright are presently enrolled in a political science course on 9/11 and terrorism that Professor Robert Snyder has taught since my own freshman year at Southwestern.

“This is the first year that my students don’t really have a memory of 9/11. They were in third grade,” Snyder told me. I asked if that changed the dynamic of class discussion. “No, not really, because they’ve dealt with the aftermath of it ever since.”

That was a society we had, and that should be our goal once again. Not just defeating terrorism, but recapturing the kind of peace, and tranquility and trust that we once had in our society.

Remembering the horror of 9/11, to share where you were, what you were doing, much like my parents sharing their memory of JFK’s assassination, is a foundation, shared or not, to a greater conversation. There was a learning curve for all of us—young and old—after 9/11, and the past 10 years have been an intense education, much of it driven by fear. And so I ask—and I now hope—do these students remember what it was like before 9/11?

When he was a senior in high school in 1965, Wright told us, he once took a date to Dallas Love Field. A TWA flight had just come in, and they walked into the airport and walked into the plane. They sat in first class while the stewardesses cleaned and then walked up to the FAA tower where they were invited to watch the airplanes land and take off.

“And I bring this up because that world is lost,” Wright said.

“You don’t know what I’m talking about, but I don’t think it should be forgotten. That that was who we were. That was a society we had, and that should be our goal once again. Not just defeating terrorism, but recapturing the kind of peace, and tranquility and trust that we once had in our society.”

Lawrence Wright

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San Antonio leads Texas on ending horse-drawn carriage rides by 2030

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Horses will no longer pull carriages on the streets of downtown San Antonio.

San Antonio has pulled off something that the rest of Texas has yet to do, but it didn't come without some contentious conversations. City Council has unanimously voted (with one abstention) to phase out the use of horse-drawn carriages over the next five years. That means by January 1, 2030, there will be none on the streets at all; instead, there will be electric carriages.

These plans have been in the making since 2022 — if not always at the same level of intensity — when District 2 Councilmember Jalen McKee-Rodriguez and District 3 Councilmember Phyllis Viagran wrote up some concerns about the horses' wellbeing. A special session at the end of October 2024 hinted to San Antonians that the end for this practice was neigh — sorry, nigh — and the final vote was made on December 12. In addition to accepting the plan, it extended its timeframe by two years.

The initial proposal included worries about the horses' exposure to traffic and pollution, as well how their presence might exacerbate those issues for the environment at large by slowing traffic. It also raised concerns about the effects of standing or walking on hard surfaces for too long, or spending time in extreme weather.

At the December 12 meeting, San Antonians gave impassioned speeches about animal welfare — both to call attention to the need for better conditions and to defend the reputations and jobs of current horse drivers — but it wasn't the first time the council heard from the public about the issue.

In a prior city survey, 50,476 respondents weighed in. Of those respondents, 51.98 percent said they liked the idea to "Transition horse-drawn carriages to electric carriages and pedicabs and ban horse drawn carriages completely." There were alternative solutions listed, but respondents were less drawn to them.

A cultural divide emerged in the data and continued in the December meeting: some people avoided the carriages because they worried about the treatment of the horses, while others enjoyed them because of their historical echoes and living legacy. Many speakers in favor of the plan used this to form their argument, raising questions about history versus progress.

More tangible objections to the plan hinged on the businesses — specifically five companies — and jobs that would be lost, which was the main factor behind extending the adjustment period.

Discussions about the particulars of the electric vehicles are still to come, as confirmed in the discussion near the end of the meeting. Councilmember Jalen McKee-Rodriguez addressed concerns about what would happen to the horses, mentioning the Brady Hunter Foundation as a future partner in finding them rescue homes.

Some council members also brought up rhetorical questions about animal exploitation by groups like Sea World, the San Antonio Stock Show & Rodeo, military and police forces, and even various groups in the Fiesta parade, although these did not come with a formal motion to pick the issues up.

This decision could have a ripple effect on other Texas cities. Dallas has recently considered a similar ban, but it appears to have stalled; Austin's attempts at a ban have been unsuccessful, but according to the Austin-American Statesman, only one operator is permitted to bring horses downtown. She declines to do so because the long hours are unfair to her and the horses. Houston does have horse-drawn carriages, and there seems to be little conversation about banning them.

Cities like Chicago and Salt Lake City have led the charge in the United States with some of the most prominent successful bans. Other cities around the world with bans include Brussels and Guadalajara, which both switched to electric models. Bans that have been around for years, like Guadalajara's and Prague's, still aren't out of the woods — people are still pushing back on the decision, so it sounds like San Antonio still has much work cut out for it.

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