8 years on

I had the paper and can't find it now. They couldn't get close but, you saw
them walking around where they could and being turned b ack. A friend said
they got within six blocks before they got turned back but they kept on
wanting to get to where the surviving people were being put until being
transported to hospital. It was awful and because they took it out of the
news so soon, many young teens don't have a clue how horrible it was. That
is a shame.


"Joe/Joey da New York" wrote in message
...
On Fri, 11 Sep 2009 18:30:52 -0400, Granby wrote
(in article ):

When he
walked in the apartment, his wife was asleep on the couch, totally
exhausted
and as filthy as he was from searching around for him.

This sounds anecdotal, perhaps urban mythic. It was all but impossible for
any civilian to get anywhere near ground zero for several days, if not
weeks,
afterwards.

--
Ketzl's dad from New York

On Sep 11, 2:31*pm, Dan M wrote:
On that day in 2001 I was driving a semi, running with a trainer since I
was new to the company. We had been running the east coast, and had
finally returned home to California. We stopped at the truck stop in
Salinas, CA and went inside for a bathroom break and some coffee. While
we were in the truck stop we saw the news about the first crash (this was
really early in the AM in CA, so just about real-time). Everybody was
assuming it was an accident.

On that day...

Just me and Fritzie. Louie was a brand-new presence. We'd been engaged
only a few months but hadn't moved in together yet. I awoke, ran into
the shower, and got out to meet my bus. No time for breakfast: there
was a Timmy Ho's along the way of my half-hour walk from the second
bus, and I stopped for coffee. The talk was of stock quotes, the
upcoming Sabres and Bills seasons; the radio was tuned to the local
R&B station and it was playing one of the top singles.

When I got to work a lady told me, "Some guy drove a plane into the
side of the World Trade Tower," kind of matter-of-factly. In
retrospect I know she was thinking what I said: "Drove? Like was he
flying some little Cessna or one of those sightseeing planes?" No one
knew until we were all ushered into the main conference room where a
monitor showed the unfolding nightmare.

I had never believed in Satan before that day. It was like Hell boiled
over and rooted into the center of every person who witnessed it
engulfing its victims.

I spent days calling other Citibank offices looking for a man I'd
never met. He was a private banker whom I'd worked with frequently as
I validated his documentation to transfer money for his high-rolling
clients. His office was in the Tower. It was a week before I caught up
with him; he was safe, alive, and newly resigned from the bank--and
who could blame him?

I did not personally know any of the victims, but Louie recognized old
college buddies in the growing list of names. I wondered about those
who might not have had anyone to light the candles for their way home.
I suppose it was neither here nor there. On that day we were all New
Yorkers, Pennsylvanians, People of the Capital; we watched the deaths
of thousands and something in us died that day too as terrorists
murdered the innocent and raped the souls of the living.

At the present time we cannot pinpoint the location of Osama Bin Laden
but I can say this: on whatever day he dies and reaps the eternal
hellfire he tried to sow upon our nation, that day shall be an
American holiday.

My thanks to those around the world who remember with us, grieve with
us, and celebrate courage with us.

Blessed be,
Baha