Posts Tagged ‘September 11’

No matter how much those that hate America and what it stands for try to re-write history, we will not … we should not … we simply CANNOT forget.






Don’t let the man behind the curtain or the stooges in Congress or the limousine liberals tell you differently. They are still out to get you.


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This has got to be one the best “untold 9-11 stories” yet.  It brought tears to my eyes, thinking about the terror they must have experienced.


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Never forget …

Never Surrender …


Anyone over the age of about 17 (maybe less but not as clearly) will remember what was going on that day if they heard anything about anything in the news.  They all have stories.  It’s like those of us in the Boomer Generation that remember where we were when JFK was shot (I was a kid living in Dallas at the time so I have *vivid* memories) or where we were when Neil Armstrong walked on the moon (it was 2 days before my 15th birthday and I was at very long time family friends’ house with my family watching it on their TV).  My mother’s generation remember, for example, where they were when they got the news about Pearl Harbor (she was 13, coming home from church with her parents, and they heard a newsboy on the street corner shouting “extra, extra, read all about it”, and my grandfather stopped for the paper).  We all have those kinds of memories.

Today, on the 11th anniversary of the Al Qaeda attacks on the USA, we all have those memories of that day, assuming we were old enough to know.  Even though the liberal media has worked hard to try to squelch it and to debunk it and to not show pictures of it, we all know what we saw.  We all know what we heard.  We all have vivid memories.  They can’t re-write history, no matter how hard they try.  My father who fought hard in World War 2 would have been disgusted with those that try to play it down.  Give me a break.  It happened out of the blue.  Innocent people died that thought they were going to work that day and going home for dinner.  History is history, no matter how much some want to deny it or say that it was “caused” by us or that the USA should “apologize” for all she has done.

GIVE ME A BREAK.  It happened.  We all know it.

On 9.11.01, I was just back from bringing my oldest son to his first year of college in Vermont, all the way on the other side of the continent from me.  My middle child, my 2nd son, my spirit child, had died just 2½ months prior.  My youngest child, my baby girl, was 12 and in the 7th grade on the cheerleading squad at the local middle school.  My marriage was a mess.

It was just a little past 6am on the west coast where I lived (the SF Bay Area to be exact).  I was asleep.  I worked a home business and stayed home with my children.  I was still in major grieving for my son who had died and my other son who had left for college.  My daughter was dealing with both of her brothers leaving within a couple of months of each other and being in middle school (along with watching her parents aimed straight to divorce, which was not a great time for her … although the friendships on the cheerleading squad saved her, quite honestly).  The phone rang.  Now who the hell calls a little past 6am unless it’s an emergency or some major issue?  In my mind, when someone calls that early, it can never be a good thing.

“Hello?” (think *very* groggy voice)

It was Logan (my oldest … the one in college in Vermont).  Ok, he’s on the other side of the country and calling at a time when he would know that I would naturally be still asleep.  He was yelling into the phone.


Ok, I was awake but barely …

“What?  What’s wrong?”

My roommate’s parents may have been in the Twin Towers?

“Huh?” (This was while I was thinking … ok … so … why does this matter to me right now?  What was so exciting about being in the Twin Towers, assuming it was the NYC Twin Towers that was in my brain?)

MOM!!!  MOM!!!  An airplane hit the Twin Towers!!!

“Did it hit the floor they were on?  What kind of plane?  A little Cessna?”  That’s what was running through my mind … that maybe a small plane had gotten disoriented and run into it.  My brain was picturing a little Cessna with its tail end poking out the window of the building … not that a huge jet had hit it and it was in flames.

MOM!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!  TURN ON THE DAMN TV!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

Ok, fine, my son doesn’t usually shout that sort of thing at me so I got up to flip the TV on and my daughter came stumbling out of her room asking what was going on.  I don’t even know which channel was set.  It didn’t matter.  The image was immediately there.

“Oh dear God, what the hell is going on?”

I watched all day.  I cried all day.  My late father and my late son would have been appalled.  I begged my son in college to just STAY PUT and not try to go to NYC, knowing how spontaneous college students can be about wanting to see what’s happening.  I thought of people that I knew that lived there (the Best Man in my 1st wedding was one).  I have all sorts of images of that day.

I sent my daughter to school.  What good would it do for her to stay home to yet another disaster in her life?  She wanted to go.  She had cheerleading practice that day … or at least so I thought.  The school administration decided *not* to have cheer practice that day so they could all go home and find out about their loved ones.  While that was fine, it would have been nice if they’d *WARNED* the parents of this and given us the option to come pick up our kids.  No … we didn’t know … and they had no way to contact us … and most kids at that point in time didn’t have cell phones … and so she walked.  Now, I was home to greet her, being an at-home mom at the time, but what about those kids whose parents were working and the kids had nowhere to go?  I never did find out about that.  To me, that’s negligence that parents weren’t called when an after-school program was cancelled at the last second.  However, that’s a completely different issue.

We all have memories.  Roy’s memories are *completely* different than mine.  He lived in Maine at the time.  He was close to where the cowards that snuck into our country and did this awful deed were.  He was working in Kennebunkport, Maine, very, very close to the George H W Bush estate.  He was working in broadcasting at the time. 

Roy:  “I remember ___ (friend’s name blanked out for privacy reasons) calling to have me turn on the TV just after 9Am to the first Twin Tower getting hit.  I remember noting every FM music station carrying extensive satellite news feeds instead of normal programming and it looking like an early Sunday morning rather than a busy Tuesday with commuter traffic because most everyone stopped off to where there was a TV carrying 9-11 footage as it was happening.  The normal flow of air traffic was halted and only military defense was present overhead.  What an eerie feeling.  This was all happening as I was living and working near Walker’s Point by the George H.W. Bush property in Kennebunkport, ME.  I have never seen so many police and secret service personnel in one location!”

We all have memories.  We all have eerie images in our minds.  For example, I was on an airplane with my daughter approximately a week and a half (maybe 2) after when they first started allowing commercial flights again.  There were a grand total of 3 of us on the flight, an unknown to us passenger and the 2 of us, because so many were afraid to fly.  I remember the bridges in the SF Bay Area being closed down.  I remember military planes flying overhead, patrolling the airways and nothing else being there.  We all have images.  I remember friends telling me about being stuck in the middle of the heartland when an airplane flight that they were on was grounded and they had to rent a car to get home.  I remember a high school friend of my son that got to the airport early and got on an earlier flight than they were scheduled, making it so that she and her mother just missed Flight 93 that went down in that Pennsylvania field.  I have more.  We all do. 

The image I have today is that my father, who fought in World War 2, would be appalled by the apathy; by an American “president” apologizing to the world for the USA; by the lack of current media coverage about that day.

Please know however that Roy and I as well as my son, Logan, and my daughter, Kara, will *never* forget … and we will *never* surrender our ideals.

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