Our grandparents had the Hindenburg. Our parents had the assassinations of JFK, RFK, and MLK. Our generation had the tragic attacks of 9/11. It seems each generation has had their own heart-wrenching “I-remember-exactly-where-I-was-when-that-happened” moment. My mother could recount every detail of the day John F. Kennedy was killed–down to the clothing she was wearing. My father vividly remembers the eerie silence of the street he was standing on when news of Martin Luther King’s death hit the airwaves and the lone cry of a woman in the distance.
I was 21 years old and fresh out of college and working my first real job as a crowd of co-workers and I gathered around a TV and watched what would come to be known as 9/11 unfold like some macabre play. And now, on what will be the 10th anniversary of the day that changed the nation forever, Lieb Cellars in New York is peddling 9/11 commemorative wine. Touting the fact that the wine is produced 90 miles from Ground Zero, the vintner claims that a portion of the proceeds will go to the National September 11 Memorial Museum.
Is this capitalism or classless?