  Drama
This week: Solemn Journey Edited by: Fyn  
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Did you open your eyes, hope it never happened
Close your eyes and not go to sleep?
Did you notice the sunset the first time in ages
Or speak to some stranger on the street?~~Alan Jackson
On that 9-11 morning when the planes came down
He was sitting at his desk 80 stories from the ground
We saw it on the tv, and though he didn’t see a thing
When they hit, he reached for her, and she looked up at him
Roselle the guide dog, she was sleeping on the floor
She stood up and knew it was time to hit the door
Roselle didn’t panic or hesitate at all
She just took his hand and led him down the hall~~From 'Roselle' by Michael Gaither
“This is a day to remember the lives lost on 9/11 and the loved ones who still
mourn, and to remember the thousands of brave Americans who have sacrificed
so much to defend us since that terrible day, especially those who have given ‘the
last full measure of devotion’ to the nation that we all hold so dear.”~~Carl Levin
If you've never seen this, it is worth the moment or two...still gives me tears and chills ten years later. It is a commercial; aired once only. Pure class.
http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=J3eQmzw6n3k&feature=related |
| ASIN: B07YJZZGW4 |
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It's been ten years since the Twin Towers fell. Pretty much everyone over the age of fifteen remembers what they were doing that day. I do. It, for me, has been added to the 'What were you doing' list of my life: Kennedy Assassination, Challenger, 9-11. I grew up twenty minutes from NYC. Every year on my birthday, my dad would take me into NYC and we'd visit The Statue of Liberty, The Empire State Building, The Museum of Natural History or some other landmark. My dad took me to the city for a birthday lunch after the Twin Towers were finished. We were eating at the restaurant at the top and looking out the windows. I remember my dad saying, 'You can look all the way to heaven from here." He was right.
Did I know people who died that day? Yes, I did. A number of them came from my hometown and others nearby. I knew someone on Flight 11 who wanted to tell her husband in person that she was pregnant and couldn't wait to get home so she could tell him. She was so excited.
I remember calling my brother outside Boston and waking him up. "Turn on the TV," I said. "What channel?" he asked. "Doesn't matter," I answered. It came on and he saw the South Tower fall. He didn't have to go to work at the Prudential Building that day; Boston was closed.
I remember the incredible silence after all the planes were grounded. I'd never realized how used to the noise of planes overhead I'd become. In a campground in Maine, the day after, I remember hearing the roar of a jet overhead and being terrified. I ran to my trailer in the campground to feel safe. As if. I'd forgotten we were fifteen miles from Kennibunk, and that the fighter jets were circling the first President Bush's home.
A week or so later I heard from a friend who was in the Pentagon. She been complaining about the new chairs they'd gotten for their desks the last time we'd talked the week before. They were high-backed and hard, with big, clunky arms that were too high for her to rest her arms on comfortably. That chair saved her life. Her cell phone ringing with a call from her mom about the Twin Towers alerted a rescuer who found her in the rubble.
My daughter graduated from high school the following spring. She joined the US Navy. She served aboard the USS Ronald Reagan and was in the Gulf. I remember being so worried about her being a journalist over there and had heard the stories of the blond reporters being taken. But I kept my silence, and was proud of her, and all the folks serving over there.
It has been ten years. Grass has regrown over a field in Pennsylvania. The Pentagon has been repaired. A memorial graces the footprints of the Twin Towers. We heal, and we grow, we patch and we plod ever onward. The day birthed angels and heroes. It spawned nightmares and death. It brought together a country. It seared itself into our collective memories. I haven't forgotten. I will never forget. |
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| Writing my newsletter on 9-11-11. A difficult time of sadness and American pride, of prayers and of hope. So many items I found at WDC commemorating the day, the people, the heroes, the infamy. We here at WDC are a microcosm of the world, but we remember it well. |
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Drama: September 14, 2011 Issue [#4610]
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