On 9/11
September 11, 2002
By Democratic Underground Readers

Page: 1 | 2 | 3 | 4 | 5 | 6 | 7 | 8

Last year on 9-11 I was stunned. I sat and watched the secound plane hit the WTC and I cried because I thought we were going to be at war immediately. I was horrified at so many things that happened I won't bother to list them all. For a few days all I could think of was "we have a right to retaliate". I considered putting up a flag.

After a few days I started to feel differently. The first assault to my senses was watching Bush with the bullhorn talking to the police and firefighters. It made me mad. I watched the service at the national Cathedral on CNN and one of the anchors was announcing along with Billy Graham Jr. The cultural cretins talked through the chilren's choir and when it was all over Graham stated that we should not be affraid to use the nuclear bomb in the Middle East. Again I felt assaulted.

Since then I realize that I had felt assaulted for a long time. It started during the Impeachment, was worse at Election 2000 and numbed by the general reaction after 9-11. I am thankful that there are a few more people like me these days. Being part of the "10 percent" was scary. I will never approve of anything Dubya does..... he has no right. After everything, for him to use the deaths of all those people as a political tool only confirms that he is not fit for the job he was not elected to.

— Cheswick

I woke early in order to be at work on time that morning. I was halfway through my shift when someone at burst in and said a plane has flown into the World Trade Center. Having just seen those building several months earlier I thought some wacko had decided to fly a private plane into it, so I didn't pay much attention. At lunch, I sat and ate in silence - no one else had heard at the cafeteria. I then remembered that my uncle (who had recently moved to the city) worked only a few blocks a way. I called my mom from a payphone. "Is Uncle Jim OK?" My mother's voice was not normal. "Yes." "What about the towers?" I asked. "They're gone," she said. "They're what?" I didn't believe it, those huge powerful buildings I had just seen earlier this year. They were no longer there.

The rest of that fateful day passed in a blur of grief, shock, fear, and a hole in my stomach. I watched into the wee hours as the first lights went on. Then came George Bush. He went to the site of the World Trade Center in the days following and spoke. I thought, I hate this man, but must stand behind him. Whether I hate him or not he has a historic presidency - I hope that he doesn't screw up.

He hasn't screwed up though. He has intentionally taken us down this path.

On September 10th nearly no American would have said that in the span of one trip around our star we would be facing the end of the American Experiment. Who would have imagined a war, preperation for another, the denial of rights, the destruction of freedoms and the further embarassment of this nation in the world's eyes? We have lost the lives of a little less than 3000 of our people, and countless "enemies" have been killed. 3000 lives were extinguished that day. Fathers, mothers, sons, daughters, wives, husbands and friends. Each one of those people will not see another Christmas with family. They will not see another sunrise. They will never wake up in the morning refreshed and happy. They will no longer feel pain, or joy. They will never again draw breath.

How shall we remember these people, for they are people with stories and feelings. Shall we remember them by killing more fathers, mothers, sons, daughters, wives, husbands and friends? Will we expand the death cycle, or shall we insure that they did not die in vain? Shall we pursue narrow nationalism, or greater understanding? Shall we ignore the people from the multitude of nations which also lost their lives on that day?

We do not hold the monopoly on grief and pain. Most of you will not be watching TV or reading the papers on this day to avoid crass desensitization. I say watch, think, pause, live and cry. Cry for the dead, cry for the dying. Cry for the children without parents, and the parents without children. Cry for life. Cry for the world. But most importantly, cry for those who can no longer do so. Peace and love.

— Zachary H. Edwards, aka Youngred

It is too bad that we are consumed in the hype of 9-11. This is just a diversion from what is really happening in this country. It is giving Bush an open ticket to do what ever he wants and making anyone who speaks up against any possible war unpatriotic. We should be very aware of what is going on to our freedoms, environment and corporate greed. There is a master plan that Bush has in mind that we do not know yet, but you can rest assured it will not benefit the average person and we will only know what it is when it's too late. While we are all concerned about the front door it's the back door we should be watching.

— Johnny Solar

Tough to find the words - hope the Master doesn't mind that I borrowed his.

It was the best of days, it was the worst of days. It was a day which dawned under a brilliant blue sky, so bright and clear that it stretched to the heavens, it was a day which ended with a setting sun choked by a noxious, swirling cloud of ash and smoke emanating from the depths of hell. It was a day when all that is wrong with humanity was torn open for all to see, it was a day when all that is right with humanity was laid open for all to see. It was a day when the best among us were lost, it was a day when the best in us was reclaimed. It was a day when buildings crumbled, it was a day when a people rose.

It was a day of bottomless pain and anguish, it was a day of insurmountable courage and fortitude. It was a day where the soulless hatred of the few was no match for the selfless love of the many. It was a day in which those we had so long taken for granted gained their rightful due. It was a day in which families were ripped apart, it was a day when a nation was bound together.

It was a day that for all those who lived through it will serve as a milesrtone in time, all that was before and all that came after clearly marked for the rest of their lives. It was a day when images of such horror were burned into the souls of all those who bore witness that we not only wish not to remember, we fear remembering them. It was a day of images burned into our souls of such importance that we can never permit ourselves to forget.

It was a day unlike any other.

— Michael Shannon, with all due respect and credit to Charles Dickens

» On to Page 4