Thursday, September 11, 2008

Out of the blue...

Who of us will ever forget that September sky?

...and how such beauty can be blotted out by hate and horror and ash.

If you can, watch this poem by Simon Armitage.
4 parts: to help you remember.

6 comments:

Jeffrey Quick said...

Were you working on that morning? I was... we had no radio or TV, the Net was slower than molasses, and I was getting rumors from incoming patrons and passing them on. I'd seen the story on my browser ca. 8:45, said, "Oh, plane crashed into building, another tragedy," and didn't realize what it meant until my wife called me.

I'm singing a Requiem tonight for the victims. Those of your readers who are Christians might make a special point today to pray for the conversion of the Muslim world

Jay G said...

I'll never forget the events of that day.

I'll never forgive those responsible, nor those who cheered them on...

JD said...

I am with Jay G on this one. Too bad most of the country seems to have already forgotten it in their rush to a stress free, threat free world view. . .

Anonymous said...

I was working 11 to 7 shifts. I went home, showered and went to bed. I was awakened by a phone call. I did not sleep for the next 72 hours. I cleaned my arms and prepared. Then exaustion overtook me, and I slept.

I will never forget. I will never forgive.

tyskkvinna said...

I'll never forget. The image I saw became ingrained in me, and is something that pops into the back of my head often.

I was at an airport that morning... waiting to take off. Of course, I never got on a plane that day. I ended up taking a greyhound a few days later...

I lost a good friend that day, too. I'll never forget her.

Crotalus said...

I will never forget, nor forgive those responsible.

My wife and I had just awakened and turned on the news, and beheld the first tower on fire. We were told that a plane had crashed into the tower, and I looked at my wife in complete befuddlement. How could that pilot miss seeing that building in such a clear morning sky? Then the second plane hit, and it clicked. I said, "This isn't an accident! This is an attack!"

And then I felt the rage. I wanted to find the bastards responsible, and gun them down. I still do.