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What a day! I'll never forget it, yet so many seem to have forgotten. They've forgotten how for just a moment we weren't Democrats or Republicans; we weren't black or white or brown; we weren't rich or poor. For the briefest moment, we were all simply Americans. We stood in shocked disbelief together. We cried together. We shook our fists in anger together. We buried our own and began to rebuild together.
ReplyDeleteWhat happened?
I don't think that people have forgotten as much as most have retreated from the pain of staying in that moment of distressed depresion. With previous Wars there were option levels of participation; with WWIII we've not been given, nor know how to be involved in fighting this "war for civilization."
ReplyDeleteSo, we've retreated to the illusion of our comfort zones.
In the kitchen. Denton, Texas. Scribbling something in a notebook. Friend of a friend calls. Her speech is rapid, almost unintelligble. Something about the French attacking New York. Quick jaunt to the telly. I see the smoking tower. "What did you mean by French?" I ask. She clarifies: Terrorists. "Oh." My roommate's out. She wants him to call her when he gets in. End call. I watch in awe. Rising smoke. Something in the distance. Another plane. Everything changes. The playing field is leveled. Anger begins to swell. The newscaster is talking. I haven't had breakfast. Outside, a dog is barking. Everyone around me is alive. The towers fall. I lose track of time. The front door closes. My roommate climbs the stairs. I turn to face him. He's at the doorway. His face bears no particular expression. He doesn't know. "Cheryl called," I say. My tone is matter-of-fact. Impassive. I turn back around. "She wants you to call her. Something she saw on the news."
ReplyDelete