Saturday, September 13, 2003

Thoughts on 9/11

Am I a blogger? I "have" one, but I don't publish that often. I still wonder why people blog. I suppose it is like anything in life there are myriad of reasons. But its a strange community, and I don't really consider my self much a part of any of that. In many ways my entire site is my blog. (Interesting some peoples entire site is only a blog).

Regardless I write today some thoughts on Sept 11th. So lets turn the microscope on myself. Why? Well, I guess this time its a means to capture my thoughts, an on-line journal entry. And admittedly, since its on-line, some part of me must want other people to see it. And I am sure there is some ego in there, some hubris. However there are other dimensions to the on-line aspect. I do want to engage a conversation to cause a reaction. Not for drama's sake but for some basic aspect of communication. Additionally, I do so detest scribbling, for that is what I do when I take pen to paper, my writing is so illegible. Not only that but when typing I can actually keep up with the speed of my thought processes much better than when I write.

September 11th the aniversary past yesterday. I worked from home on the 11th. The same as I did on the day itself. These past few days my wife has had pneumonia and I stayed home to help out. I had several con-calls to listen in on. At lunch time I took a longer break than usual and watched a good hour and a half of Ric Burns documentary on the twin towers. What a masterpiece of documentary film making. The film covers the long creation of the towers, their role in the city, their symbol and their demise. At the end of my lunch I had only finished two thirds, up through Philippe Petit's daring highwire walk in 1974 from the top of the towers. I returned to work with the story unfinished and the journey not yet fully re-lived.

In the process of the day I ran across a co-worker's YM status, Wow that brought it all back home. I recall the day, when events unfolded. The shock and horror at the events that unfolded one after another in unseeming care to the fact that not a single one should have happened, let along all of them. And then the settling realization that the experience was much more personal, one of my co-workers, who I did not know extremely well, but like all admired and like immensely, was possibly on Flight 93. I YM'd him to see if he was there, and called his cell phone number and left a voice mail that would never be retrieved. Such sadness at our loss of a great man, and that of his wife's and two daughters.

Then this evening, we all sat down and watched the rest of the documentary, and we watched again as the towers were struck. As the towers burned. As the people trapped in the top floors jumped to their death. And then as the towers fell. And I cried.


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