Often when thinking about media that has come to define 9/11, it is the work of hindsight. There have been years in between to process the trauma and come to terms with these uncertain feelings. These are all valid forms of art, returning to a moment once a certain clarity has appeared. With that said, it makes it difficult for me, somebody who was 12 in 2001, to really connect to that time when I’m so aware that they were released years later, not fully reflective of the immediate band-aid ripping sensation that came immediately after that moment. For some, it produced cynical American extremist tunes like “Courtesy of the Red White and Blue” or cash grabs like this really bad all-star collab. But to all that I ask… where was the sincerity?
For the life of me, I am not entirely sure why Alan Jackson has faded from the public consciousness. Every year on 9/11, I expect to see some montage set to “Where Were You (When the World Stopped Turning)” showing humanity overcoming tragedy in these affecting ways. I keep imagining that even as chaos and uncertainty surrounding the future of America laid in the balance that there was some compassion for our fellow men. Yes, I’m aware that there was some Islamophobia and hate crimes mixed in, but the construct of painting an America that worked together felt crucial, at least in my memory.
It was a moment where the world joined in solidarity, hoping to make this problem a one and done. The idea of terrorist attacks becoming more of a concern was predictable, though to what extent? Would there be another attack? As someone who lived in Long Beach, CA at the time, I distinctly remember the constant fear that these attacks were coastal. As a city not relatively far from Los Angeles (or even the more accessible coastlines), I could understand how an unsuspecting threat could demolish our well-being. It was a scary time, but what I remember wasn’t fear driving people apart, but more together, keeping informed and trying to make sure that those more directly impacted by that day got the help they needed.
Most importantly, “Where Were You” is the song I hear in my head whenever I think of 2001. It may have taken two months to write and produce, but it was so central to the moment that I can’t imagine thinking back without it. Amid these endless attempts to play on sentiments and exploit tragedy for cash, there was Jackson’s rambling ode. Part of the song’s charm was that he didn’t specify a protagonist, a central viewpoint by which the lyrics saw 9/11. Instead, it turns the question to everyone. Where were YOU? What did YOU do? The ambiguity was a perk by which no other song had matched. Everyone had a story to share, no matter how trivial. It did feel like a moment where the world literally stopped turning, and in many respects, it was never the same again.
To think of this song is to feel like I turned on every live charity event during that time and see Jackson with his guitar rocking back and forth, earnestly singing to the camera. It was the feel good moment where we all recognized our vulnerability, that we as a nation needed to come together and build stronger trust. It’s the type of rallying message that seems quaint in the grand scheme, but a mellowness was desired after so much gut-wrenching. A need to sit back and reflect was needed if just to make sense of the world again.
To be completely honest, “Where Were You” holds up in my imagination not only because of when it was released, but how sincere it plays in my head. Part of it comes from 20 years later finding a country so divided that the very idea of staying healthy starts fights at grocery stores. The compassion is harder to hold onto for some reason, and it only adds to the level of stress one feels. I suppose the nostalgia for “the simpler times” feels crass when compared to Jackson and 9/11, but at least there was a modest attempt to join arms and not fight. This issue was bipartisan. Everyone could agree on how bad it was. In the imagination, that was all that was needed to believe that America could start rebuilding.
To be completely honest, the song is still a sentimental favorite though it becomes abundantly clear how geared at a certain audience it was. I’m not a country music scholar, but I do recognize that the song may be off-putting for some who are less persuaded by conservative idealism. While the message is ultimately hopeful, it is slapped with a perspective that is fairly reflective of a Christian America. I’m not talking about moments like gathering with family, or even the panic-driven decision to buy a gun (which he rhymes with “I Love Lucy reruns” in ways a bit tragic in hindsight). No, it’s more literal than that.
That is one of the greatest struggles in American history: The Separation of Church and State™. It sounds easy on paper, but the amount of times a bill is passed more on the grounds of personal beliefs than respect to the law is nauseating at this point. “God” has a way of sneaking into a lot of laws that arguably should be designed as more secular. It’s difficult to fully assess here, but it becomes clear that underneath the sentimentalism, there is already a sense that Jackson may be singing to all of us, but at worst he wants to convert you so that you understand what it means to be comforted by a higher, more spiritual power. Though, to be fair, Jackson isn’t deliberately using this as a soapbox, claiming that he’s “not a real political man.”
It’s difficult to separate that sentiment from the rest of the song. At its core, the song is piercing, commenting on the fear of looking at the billowing black smoke, taking some time from one’s schedule to call their mother. These are all universal ideas that click immediately upon listening. Jackson’s calm and sympathetic voice works wonders at making it all resonate. Sure, sometimes it branches out into allusions of hostility, but it’s mostly about caring for your neighbor and desiring some future where this will all be a distant memory whether you’re in New York or “working on some stage in L.A.”
Sure, there is something to his appeal to emotion as he suggests that he doesn’t know much about The Middle East. That’s fair enough for a common man type narrative. Even the choice to end the chorus with the line “And the greatest is love” rings true to his greater theme in the piece. The issue is that because the chorus is the most repeated part, opening it with “I know Jesus and I talk to God” gives a suggestion that this is mostly religious, a long form prayer to heal this nation. There is nothing wrong with that and Jackson as an artist has the right to reflect his faith. It’s just as a universal anthem, it’s a detail that strikes far from the secular path.
In trying to understand why the song hasn’t withstood the test of time, at least in terms of over-exposure, a few things could be true. The most obvious is that I’m not personally listening to country music stations on 9/11. For all I know this plays at the top of every hour. It could also be that more personal and heartfelt compositions have been released since, making “Where Were You” feel quaint and unnecessary anymore. Or it could also be just how much the song cribs from taking a religious view of things. I wouldn’t call it persecution, but the number of shout-outs “God” personally gets here definitely seems a tad too repetitive.
Sure, I remember at the time having it lampooned by South Park with “Ladder to Heaven.” I remember them suggesting that he was profiting off of tragedy by writing the most mundane prose imaginable. Maybe as a 12-year-old, I wasn’t as aware of a “backlash” to the song, but it felt necessary to the moment. It was earnest and straightforward, giving some solace to those processing a difficult event. I understand how easy it is to ridicule that approach, though it’s also impossible to fully understand the emotional impact it had at the time. For those who weren’t cognizant on that day, something may be lost. It’s all a distant memory, and the ambiguity no longer services a greater purpose.
I know that I’ve been generally critical of this song for how it feels geared more towards Christian America than the secular one that is often suggested, but at the same time, I think it could be a plea from a religious man to connect with his fellow man. I know little about Jackson outside of the “Drive” album, so I cannot determine if he was as modest as he comes across. Still, in a time where people are questioning organized religion more than ever and it’s easier to hide bigotry behind moral principles, it makes sense why some wouldn’t be quick to sing a song that quotes the bible so extensively as a grand hoorah moment.
Though it does raise the question… where were YOU? It’s incredible to think that almost everyone from that time has a story. I was in my living room, awoken by my dad, and rushed to the TV in the front room. As I’ve mentioned, it didn’t make sense to me. I couldn’t fathom the weight of that moment even if I’m aware of how much uncertainty lied in the days ahead. I’m sure that moment will live with everyone. Some have compared it to discovering Pearl Harbor, and I can only assume they’re right. In 2001, a moment changed time forever. As a 12-year-old, the best I can do is try to piece together the before and after of it all.
On a personal note, I still really like the song. However, if I were to recommend a song that captured the sensation, that feeling of being there, I would recommend “Welcome to the Rock” from Come From Away. As a show, the whole thing is an exemplary force of energy reflecting the humanity of people in the way of tragedy. It’s everything that Jackson sang about, but from a more formed viewpoint. Of course, it should be noted that Come From Away had more time to craft the music, but even then, it had to start with small blueprints, of asking where you were on that September day.
It’s the song I hear when I think of that time, and for good reason. It was such a simplified view of things, so immediately responding to our surroundings. Jackson didn’t have time to craft some elaborate opera, giving millions of tertiary details to these people he sang about. He was trying to find peace within himself and encourage others to seek help. For whatever came next, the moment felt right to release a song that served as a warm hug. It was far more pleasant than many of the alternatives and restored some hope that things could be okay. The story from there is up to you personally to figure out.
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