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9/11 How has it changed you?

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  • I have to say that Cantor appears to be really tacky and insensitive !
    Brilyntrip

    Comment


    • <BLOCKQUOTE class="ip-ubbcode-quote"><font size="-1">quote:</font><HR>Originally posted by Galloway:
      and beyond any political rhetoric.....

      http://www.nytimes.com/2002/05/26/ny...></BLOCKQUOTE>

      All I got was the register page....do I have to register to see the article?

      Superheroes of the universe, unite!

      http://hometown.aol.com/bgoosewood/index.html
      The truth is rarely pure, and never simple. Oscar Wilde

      Comment


      • You do have to register to read any NYTimes article online, but it's gratuit (free!), so... [img]/infopop/emoticons/icon_smile.gif[/img]

        I registered ages ago... before 9/11. To read a horse article, I believe. At any rate, it's a really good site, IMO [img]/infopop/emoticons/icon_smile.gif[/img]

        BC

        *&*&*&*&*&*&*&*&*&*&*&*&*&*&*&
        Lindsay & Chance
        "The problem is not that I am insane,
        it's the everyone else is sane."
        ^^^^Proud member of the DCSC!^^^^
        &*&*&*&*&*&*&*&*&*&*&*&*&*&*&*&
        *&*&*&*&*&*&*&*&*&*&*&*&*&*&*&
        "Show me the back of a thoroughbred horse, and I will show you my wings."
        &*&*&*&*&*&*&*&*&*&*&*&*&*&*&*&

        Comment


        • Seriously, folks... read the article. One of the best (if "best" can be used to describe such an utterly heartbreaking recounting of human loss) articles I've ever read.

          Be prepared to spend about a half hour glued to your computer screen, and have tissues handy.

          Sure puts everything in perspective.

          Comment


          • I read that article yesterday, actually. Brilliantly written and heartwrenching. It shows, at the same time, why I want to be a journalist, and why I never will.

            Today have been reading the transcripts from the towers. There are seperate ones for the North and South Tower, and with each transcript, they have a link to a mini-biography of that victim. Darn good thing that I work alone. Incredible sad, but ... good.

            BC

            *&*&*&*&*&*&*&*&*&*&*&*&*&*&*&
            Lindsay & Chance
            "Plus �a change, plus c'est la m�me chose."
            --Samuel Johnson
            ^^^^Proud member of the DCSC!^^^^
            &*&*&*&*&*&*&*&*&*&*&*&*&*&*&*&
            *&*&*&*&*&*&*&*&*&*&*&*&*&*&*&
            "Show me the back of a thoroughbred horse, and I will show you my wings."
            &*&*&*&*&*&*&*&*&*&*&*&*&*&*&*&

            Comment


            • I can't speak ill of Cantor Fitzgerald; I lost two close friends who worked there, and their families have been treated very well by Howard Lutnick.

              I definitely have mixed feelings about the ads, though. They're essentially saying that they want to support the families of the Cantor "family" lost on September 11- and in order to do that, they have to stay in business. True, but perhaps a bit unsettling.

              I'd like to suggest a book to everyone: it's called "Love, Greg and Lauren," by Greg Manning. It's a series of emails he wrote to family and friends after his wife was engulfed by a fireball in the WTC. Very touching.

              The NY Times article referenced in the link a few posts above is a great one- as well as the Portraits of Grief series. It's certainly no wonder the NY Times has the reputation it does.

              Comment


              • OK, I registered, but now it's saying that page doesn't exist. If I knew the name or more info on the article I'd just search.

                [img]/infopop/emoticons/icon_smile.gif[/img]

                I saw that guy on the Today Show- Love, Greg & Lauren.......it's all so heartbreaking. [img]/infopop/emoticons/icon_frown.gif[/img]

                Superheroes of the universe, unite!

                http://hometown.aol.com/bgoosewood/index.html
                The truth is rarely pure, and never simple. Oscar Wilde

                Comment


                • Betsy, it's called "Fighting to Live as the Towers Died." Go into their WTC coverage and I'm sure you'll find it.

                  Comment


                  • I honestly cant read it again or see another tape again .I end up so messed up I can't breathe for an hour !Thinking about the messages left emails sent makes my heart ache .I will of course never forget my own panic thinking it might've been my own mom in one of those planes .. SEE I'm starting all over again.One of my dear friends he knows who he is too .I caught up with him in California where he was judging .He had taken a flight a day early thank God .Knowing it happened and reliving it are two different things for me.I accept that it happened.I'd like to see something good come from bad but it doesnt appear to me that terrorism will be stomped out ever! Since it continues to be the form of expression many disgruntled displaced people insist on taking to make their own point . Meanwhile how many Einsteins are killed how many Rembrandts or Mozarts ?? Such an enormous waste.Yet there are those of us who would NUKE 'Em etc etc yada yada yada!Maybe a few of the Mothers from Ireland should infiltrate Palestine and Isreal to try to get someone anyone to see the real light!Ahhhh but I digress!
                    Brilyntrip

                    Comment


                    • Timedjumpoff, Danielle13...

                      <BLOCKQUOTE class="ip-ubbcode-quote"><font size="-1">quote:</font><HR>Originally posted by Erin:

                      Take the sniping somewhere else. Any more comments from any one of you directed toward any of the others will be deleted.<HR></BLOCKQUOTE>

                      Exactly which part of the above did you not understand?

                      Don't do it again.

                      Comment


                      • I guess the only way 9/11 affected my life is that I am more appreciative of what I have - in terms of the material things I possess, the opportunities I have, and the fact that I am alive and live in this country.

                        As for all the publicity, programs, books, etc I think the saddest thing I saw was the TV show caled Third Watch had a 2 hour special about the officers, firefighers, and paramedics who were there. I don't think I've ever cried so hard - and I'm not a sniveler - you just knew their lives were never going to be the same and there were the ones that I just know are going to eat their guns at some point. Absolutely heart-breaking.....wht got me the most was the one firefighter, the master of understatement when he said he saw the cloud of ash and smoke coming toward him when the 2nd tower collapsed and he said, "You just knew nothin' good was gonna come of it."

                        I can't read or look at a lot of that stuff, especially when it involves firefighters, paramedics, and PD - I came from that community and still feel ties to it and I know how it affects all of them.

                        "People say that we're all mad; yeah, well, we're all crazy but we ain't sad!"
                        "Cats aren't clean; they're covered with cat spit."
                        - John S Nichols (1745-1846,writer/printer)

                        Don't come for me - I didn't send for you.

                        Comment


                        • Another way the world has changed? The office closed yesterday fairly early as we received a bomb threat. Two years ago, I'm not sure it would have been taken this seriously (we are out in the boonies, as much as you can be in NJ; our corporate headquarters gets bomb threats, not us . . . ).

                          Comment


                          • How has it changed me? Not much. I had great hopes at the beginning. That first week, first weekend when all the talk was about how much we will all find the abilities in ourselves for compassion more than greed, that we will appreciate our neighbors and find community in grief. I was so hopeful for a few days there that the people of this country would stand behind that sense of doing for each other. There was also a great sense of open dialog about the problems that the country has, that perhaps spending huge amounts of time, energy and money maintaining our sense of ourselves as a superpower and not caring who we knock down in our path may not be the way to go. That perhaps there might be a better way to try to convey our message of "democracy" throughout the world.

                            But, that didn't last long. The spin doctors took over that sense of community and turned it into something completely different. The talk of compassion and grief turned into talk and action of revenge and hatred. Those that saw and spoke of things differently than the party line were, once again, squelched and laws were passed about who could listen in and how. That constitution that makes us have the ability to dare to speak the things we say is at risk.

                            So, my cynical nature hasn't changed much. I am saddened by the loss of yet another opportunity for humankind to rethink how we deal with conflict, to use the creative intelligence that supposedly differentiates us from our horses and our dogs. There will be plenty more "attacks" and "ground zeros" to go around....

                            _______
                            And, in reference to "Exploitation of 9/11 -- is it just a matter of time for marketers?" - have you been in NYC lately? You can't go anywhere without the opportunity to purchase photographs of before or after, "ground zero" clothing, FDNY clothing, etc and etc. When I was there in October there was none of that. When I went back in January there were vendors set up everywhere (especially on the streets surrounding the WTC).

                            Comment


                            • I've changed a lot since 9-11. I am more afraid of my own government than some religous fanatics, which is sad, becasue I'm afraid of the religous fanatics too!

                              I think our government needs to shrink away and be smaller. Gee, did you know that in February one of the 9-11 terrorists finally got his Visa? More and more I see incompetence in every corner of our government. Ya know what, let the people take care of themselves. For how incompetent we are state-side, I can't believe we are more competent in our worldwide activities. We never seem to look at what we do and re-work it if it's bad. It's like we can't admit wrong or even ineffeciency.

                              Prior to 9/11 and a lot of other events in my life, I wanted to be a planner and help people through government. Well, now I want to be a lawyer and sue the pants off any government agency that interferes with our constitutional rights.

                              I will say that I have a new respect for 2 government entities - our brave firefighters and our brave military. My hats off to our troops that have embarked on a confusing and frustrating battle that they may not win. May they persevere, and survive under the guidance of bumbling leaders of a bloated bureaucracy.

                              Like Hobson said earlier, I'm sad to see the state of our world. We are going to hell in a handbasket. Every year, innocents die so that the "powerful" can flex their muscles. I hope the next war isn't 2 countries lobbing bombs at the innocent - I hope it's the innocent lobbing bombs at their "leaders".

                              The witchy witch witch of south central NC.
                              The witchy witch witch of south central NC.

                              Comment


                              • i sent this in as my college essay.
                                **************************************************
                                I wrote the first half of this essay as part of my regular column for my school newspaper. It was written in response to a traveling exhibit on the Vietnam Wall presented to my school by the park service. The second half was written in the aftermath of the September terrorist attacks.

                                MARCH 28, 2001
                                I have been to the wall in Washington twice. I have put my hand on the cool stone and touched the names of a few of the sons, brothers, best friends and lovers who did not come home.
                                I have seen some of the things left at the wall in a museum exhibit, the teddy bears and boots and letters and flowers, faded and distant behind the display case glass.
                                I have been to the park service exhibit and assembly, seen the photographs, read the letters, and looked into the faces behind the statistics, politics, protests and analyses of Vietnam. I have seen that each of the 58,000 were tangibly human, were loved, loved back, were brave, were scared, were compassionate, were, in may cases, only months older than I am.
                                This realization is of paramount importance to our generation. War is a distant thing to us. It occurs in the dry, impersonal language of history books, in places far away, beyond our own worlds, in movies with happy endings.
                                Had we been born just a generation earlier, those would be our letters. We would graduate Ramapo and see our dearest friends off to war. We would see their faces in the newspaper, the faces of the people we love more than anything in the world, the people who represent all that was sweet and safe about our childhoods. Beneath, we would see their years. An end of a life hardly begun, an end of a brilliant smile, of an inside joke, of the anticipation of a 21st birthday, of a thousand opportunities.
                                We would sit with the boys who have been brothers and prom dates and partners in crime and watch their draft numbers appear on a TV screen. We would watch their childhoods flicker and vanish.
                                We would protest with all our hearts against something we knew to be wrong. We would fight passionately to end the loss, the great unnecessary loss.
                                We would cross the ocean to this great unknown entity of Vietnam, and jungles and war. We would watch the rain and blood wash away our childhoods, our innocence, our selves.
                                Instead, we are saved. We are free to be 18, to be carefree and afraid of nothing. We are free to drive too fast and defy authority and tempt death because we are, of course, invulnerable. We have never been faced with adulthood, with responsibility for our lives, with responsibility for the lives of others, with the possibility of death and danger and true fear.
                                Years after our sheltered childhood is a memory, we will bear none of the scars of the previous generation. We will have no images of rivers and fire and death to wake us from our sleep. We will not live our lives ever bearing the weight of friends who slipped away in our arms. We will not hear their voices, our unspoken goodbyes, ringing in our ears. We will not hold this unspeakable sorrow in our eyes.
                                As such, we will never begin to understand this vast gap which separates our generation from the previous. I will never be able to see into this great piece of my father�s life beyond its medals and faded uniforms and immense, wordless sadness
                                We will never see war as being immediate. We will never see our own faces in statistics and newspaper articles and history books.
                                SEPTEMBER 28, 2001
                                If we had continued to be so lucky, we would never have reason to face our own mortality. We would never truly have realized how precious and fragile our lives are. We would never have discovered, too late, how much we value the people we love.
                                Instead, we have seen our sheltered existence, our unappreciated security, this fleeting bit of history shatter and fall within the span of a few hours in the brilliant sunshine of that September morning. The great terror and sorrow of war came crashing out of the black and white. In that September sunlight the mayhem and anguish and heroism unfolding around us defied encapsulation. No yet-to-be-written history book, no late-night news analysis, no photograph, however poignant could capture what we had seen, what we had felt, what we had lived. The course of our emotions, the magnitude of our actions are beyond expression.
                                Here, in my town, in the now phantom shadow of those great towers, the aftermath of the eleventh has been horribly, thoroughly, inescapably real. We saw the fires, the faces of the falling, the fighter jets, the flying ash. And we lost many�fathers�neighbors�friends� nameless faces we knew only from mornings at the diner, Christmas pageants, soccer practice, school plays. In acts of desperation, great compassion, quiet faith, and certain terror, they were lost.
                                I know the names of those whose pictures, in grainy black and white have filled newspapers and lampposts and round-the-clock news shows. They were the fathers of boys I graduated with. They lived on my street. They worked with my father, in offices just like his, filled with photographs of their children.
                                As the last flames cool and extinguish, we are faced with another heartrending reality. There may be no end in our lifetime. We may see our lives wane and fade, wishing for one more day of our long-lost invulnerability. We will mourn our thoughtless complacency, our unquestioned security, our distant days of just being 18.
                                Today, at the cusp of adulthood, I have seen something end. My own warm, certain comfort, my carelessness, my innocence, lie with the dead beneath the twisted steel. I have seen lives just like mine ravished by this great, senseless loss.
                                Years from now, there will be countless more faces. I will know them, too. I may stand beside them or lie among them. They will be the men and women whose lives will be risked, rescued and lost to uphold all that this great country stands for.
                                It will be our faces printed in books, our names carved in stone. We will be called upon to push fear and pain from our minds to save the life of someone else. We will one day find compassion and camaraderie beyond the bounds of sides and agreements and hostilities.
                                Years later, another generation will stand before another memorial. They will peer beneath the treaties and alliances, the gallantry and glory of battle, the maps and victory parades and see our lives. Lives just like theirs.

                                Comment


                                • twotempi - Wow. That was beautifully written.

                                  BC

                                  *&*&*&*&*&*&*&*&*&*&*&*&*&*&*&
                                  Lindsay & Chance
                                  "Plus �a change, plus c'est la m�me chose."
                                  --Samuel Johnson
                                  ^^^^Proud member of the DCSC!^^^^
                                  &*&*&*&*&*&*&*&*&*&*&*&*&*&*&*&
                                  *&*&*&*&*&*&*&*&*&*&*&*&*&*&*&
                                  "Show me the back of a thoroughbred horse, and I will show you my wings."
                                  &*&*&*&*&*&*&*&*&*&*&*&*&*&*&*&

                                  Comment


                                  • I have just spent an hour or so reading every letter on this post; I have to say it is all very interesting.

                                    I would like to offer a few of my own comments in the next week or so, but it will have to wait a little in order to write a proper letter . . .

                                    I will offer a few quick snippets of ideas here though . . .

                                    As many people here know, I am a Canadian, a Westerner living in South Korea, in Seoul. I have lived here for approximately five years, since 1997.

                                    Living in a foreign culture, especially a culture as truly foreign as Korea often is (they don't call it the Hermit Kingdom for nothing), has served both as an outlook on Asia and the world, but also as a magnifying glass of myself as an individual, a Westerner and as a Canadian. Collectively, it has often caused me to think long, long, and deep on my long bicycle rides each day.

                                    A few tenetative (and quietly, very quietly) offered suggestions and ideas . . .

                                    Study what happened in the city of Kwangju in 1980 here in Korea. Try and decide for yourself what the American Embassy knew and didn't know . . .

                                    Study what happened on Cheju Island (Korea) from 1947 to 1949. Try and decide for yourself what the American Military Command in Korea, knew and didn't know . . .

                                    Study Indonesia in the 1960's, including East Timor. What did the American Government (and the Canadian Government in the case of East Timor - ALCAN, a Canadian company was heavily involved there), knew and didn't know . . .

                                    These are only a very small number of examples. Generalizations are always difficult, but I can say honestly that in my experience, many educated Koreans are very heavily ambivalent about "the West". (to be sure, they are even more "ambivalent" about their northern cousins and they positively hate Japan).

                                    If these examples are "too far away" to be of any interest, perhaps then, take a good look at the genocidal slaughter of the native Indians in the United States and Canada in the so called "early part" of our collective history. It really doesn't take long to begin to understand the heavy ambivalence toward us as Westerners. To be sure I think idealism and competition/conquest are an intrinsic part of human nature, and all societies, not just the west. But the West has generally been more successful at the latter than other societies.

                                    Just a few passing ideas, for now . . .
                                    DG/Seoul ROK

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