That Day
Written by: Keith Helinski, 2011.
Smashwords Edition
Dedicated to every single person in the long, sad, history of our human race, that has been unjustly murdered 'in the name of God.'
I was a naïve 16-year-old when it happened on that day. That day that changed my life. It changed a lot of people's lives. Perceptions were altered. This belief everyone had that life is just so gosh darn dandy became lifeless with just a few last remaining gasps of breath. All that was left that day was tear-stained faces staring at a television screen. Everyone, regardless his or her age, had that same puzzled look. Not many conversations flowed that day. What is there to say, really? It was like having a conversation of the previous weekend's bingeing party during a relative's funeral.
Days and weeks after that day, everyone reflected on what was happening. Everyone who was everyone could not get those images out of their head from the TV. Ten years later, it is still permanently burned into my memories. As the cliché goes, I remember that day like it was yesterday…
I was in 11th grade at Stevenson High School. It was a typical September day. The weather was to be expected for the fall in Michigan. Was not too warm. Was not too cold. The leaves were just starting to fall from the trees to the ground.
I woke up around 6 in the morning, getting ready for another glorious day at school. Boy, did I hated school!
It was a Tuesday morning, and I was already counting down the week's remaining days I had to go to school. I was also counting down the days till I get to work at Showcase again. At that time in my young life, I already felt like I was on top of the world, working at a movie theater.
Pathetic, I know!
I waited there at the end of my street for the bus, got on, and already started cringing over what I was about to endure during the day. It is amazing the emotions a person goes through before real tragedy hits. In my naïve sensibility, I was dreading high school; being around the kids that hated me (and the feeling was mutual), the endless boring lessons teachers preached, and the lonely feeling of not having a girlfriend. I was a teenager, caught up with my own dramas in life that I rarely looked around me. And beyond that, I was a typical American; entitled with the feeling that I am all-important in this mad, mad, world. I, like many people, was in for a very rude awakening before the end of the day.
That day.
I got off the bus, and walked slowly, dreading every moment of it. Through the hallways, my peers flooded every which-way with their self-important lives. Some were talking about their boyfriends/girlfriends. Some were talking about how the school's football team; Titans, were doing. And some were just in their own little world: like me. I walked to my locker, got my Sociology book, and headed to my first hour class. For the life of me, I do not recall that class that day.
Second hour, I had Earth Science. Mr. May taught it. He looked like a combination of Stone Cold Steve Austin and Bill Goldberg. He had a sense of humor too. While Mr. May was teaching (and for the life of me, I also do not remember), a tragedy occurred elsewhere…
It was not until third hour, geometry, that I got a shock of my lifetime. The TV was on, which is very rare in that class. Ms. Curnutte was hysterical, saying over and over: "This was no accident, this was deliberate."
What I found out then, a plane hit one of the World Trade Center towers in New York while I was in Earth Science. A second plane hit the second tower right before geometry started. I would never forget the first image of that tall building with smoke coming out of it. Everyone in that class was in disbelief. No one said a word. There was no lesson in that class that day. Just kids and a frantic woman, watching history unfold on TV.
After third hour, I had lunch. By that time, the first tower collapsed to the ground. A smoke-covered New York City filled the television screen. Confusion invaded the cafeteria. Everyone was glued to the TV. Hardly anyone was talking to one another. It was such a weird vibe being in that lunchroom, stuffing my face, watching people die as if it was entertainment. Everyone felt it…that vibe: a vibe I hope I do not ever have to repeat in my lifetime again.
I was glued to the TV once again in fifth hour. I had Theater Arts II with Ms. Berg. She hardly said a word. Her eyes were cemented to the TV as well. A few of my classmates filled me in with what was going on, since none of the teachers really had a clue (or really wanted to talk about it).
I got the news that a third plane hit the Pentagon in Washington D.C. and a fourth plane crashed in Shanksville, Pennsylvania (days later, it was revealed that it was targeting the White House). America was under attack.
The TV was off in my English class, sixth period. Mr. Matthews was either in denial with what was going on, or did not want to increase the high anxiety everyone was feeling. That class was a blur, even then. My mind was not focused with what he was teaching. My mind was in-tuned with the day's events.
Seventh hour was the weirdest moment in the entire day (maybe my entire life). The TV was on, and the volume was high. I was sitting in Journalism. One of my favorite teachers, Ms. Faricy, was very excited.
Now, before you jump to conclusion right now: I do not want to say that she was excited that thousands of people were dying on the television screen.
No.
She was excited that the very subject of the class, journalism, was present. Faricy hardly said anything, just wanted everyone to absorb what the journalists were doing on CNN that day.
Days/weeks later, Ms. Faircy was the only teacher I had that kept on talking about that day. She even brought in newspaper headlines of that day. One reason why Faricy is one of my favorites is she was real, raw, and never sugarcoated her teachings. She did not talk to her students like they were kids. She talked to her students like young adults, willing to learn. One prime example, she held one newspaper with BASTARDS as the headline. I can not think of any other teacher that would be that bold.
By eighth hour, I was in complete and utter distraught. I had creative writing with Ms. Favazza. I could not concentrate with the writing assignment.
The assignment was writing a story, inspired by two pictures Favazza handed out to the class. The first picture was a room. I believe it was a living room. The second picture was the same room completely destroyed. Everything was on the ground. The assignment was to incorporate both pictures into a story of some sort. I can not remember off hand what I had in mind before that day, but I am pretty sure it had something to do with Evil Dead. I think I even started writing it.
But then, that day happened. What should be known as any other day, became known as that day. I could not focus on writing. My eyes just stared at the TV screen mounted on the wall. And I felt guilty for that, using what was going on as a cop out to get away from writing my assignment (though, that was not how I felt). Favazza understood. And a good majority of the student's in my class felt what I was feeling. The school principal announced on the P.A. tail end of the day that all after school activities was canceled.
The bus ride home was surreal. The beginning of the day on that bus, I was dreading going to school. Now I was dreading going home. In a sense, I wanted to rewind that day to the beginning without going forward, feeling the way I did eight hours prior. But there was no going back. I, like many people on that bus ride home, was in pieces. There was so much promise with what we all thought life could be. And there was so much pride in our country. We had that cocky, "America: fuck yeah," attitude.
There was also that pride in my faith. Although I had not been to church in a good, long, while. I still had pride in being a Christian without question. Hmmm…even though that day brought our nation together, it also opened up eyes.
At least it opened up mine.
I came home, finding my mom in front of the computer screen. She was on her popular online hangout at that time: the ebay boards. CNN was on in the background. I asked her just a simple question, if she knew what was going on? It was a stupid question, really. But what else is there is say? She looked at me, nodded her head, and went back to the computer screen. She really had nothing to say either. What can a parent say to a distraught kid regarding that day?
"Guess what son? Thousands of people died today and the world is fucked up!"
My sister came home an hour later (she was a few grades below me in jr. high), and was just as distraught (and even more confused). There were no answers given. And I felt really bad for her. I kind of knew the world was fucked up. That the great reality-check in life is: shit happens. I learned that a few years prior given the Columbine High ordeal.
But my sister.
She was still innocent, unknowing to the real world. She did not even cover the Holocaust in school yet. And she was witnessing tragic history with me. We both sat on the couch, confused, eyes glued to CNN. I think this was the first time I was watching CNN in this length before. After a while, I got up and went to my room. I lay in bed; just…I can not even describe the words. I was in tears. I was crushed. I was confused. I was beat up. I was experiencing the reality TV version of the Die Hard series. The planes. The tall building. The terrorists. New York. Only thing missing was a smart-ass Bruce Willis, saving the day, one-liner at a time.
But no one could save that day.
No one.
This was real.
I could not even imagine what it would be like being on that plane as it collides into the towers.
I could not even imagine what it would be like being in that tower and watching the plane approach and crash without warning.
I could not even imagine what it would be like to be in the tenth level of hell where the only way to escape is to jump from the tower to my death.
I could not even imagine what it would be like to be on the other two planes, learning the events that occurred in New York and knowing what my future entails.
My naïve 16-year-old mind could not fathom the hell others were going through. And the families of these victims and the pain they will go through…
It was all-unreal.
Except, it was all-real.
My dad came home, and my family had an uncomfortable quiet dinner together. CNN was on in the background. Aaron Brown was talking. By this point of that day, the second building collapsed.
After a few more hours of distraught people sharing their personal tales that day, George W. Bush made an announcement. It was one of those Captain Obvious moments, but a historical moment nonetheless. He soothed everyone's confusion with the inevitable truth. There were no left/right debacles. No debates. Just the plain truth.
America was brutally attacked. Thousands of people lost lives.
There was this cocky unspoken feeling that no one could touch America. And I represented what American's stood for before that day. I thought I was the shit, an 11th grader with one of the greatest jobs ever! The embodiment of America sums up that simplistic thought process, that the United States of America is top of the world, the best in the land, and that no one could ever touch us.
I guess the same could be said about religion. That people are safe within the confines of their own God's plan.
Terrorists hijacking planes and crashing them into buildings were only thought of in action movies by unoriginal studio execs.
Before that day, who knew, right?
The why's/how's came into focus days/weeks/months/and years after. Before that day, I was not accustomed to the name, Bin Laden. Before that day, I was not aware of centuries worth of disagreements in the Middle East. Before that day, I never questioned faith. Before that day, I was just living my own naïve life with blinders on to the world. It never occurred to me until that day: this was the real world. All those years of hiding behind Steven Spielberg movies and dwelling over my trivial crushes with girls I had no chance with, seemed insignificant.
Days after that day, I still had no idea what I was going to do with my creative writing assignment. Then it hit me that weekend. I was still glued to CNN, and watched a woman in tears, talking about her husband that was on one of the planes that crashed into the towers. I was so taken by her story, I felt compelled to write about it. So that night, I typed it out. I wrote it in script form (I was into writing short screenplays at the time).
Monday came, almost a week after that day, and I turned in my assignment. In a sense, I felt that I needed to express myself about what happened that day. Once it was written, and once I turned it in, I felt a little at ease. To my surprise, Ms. Favazaa loved it, and as a result, I received an A+. She even wrote a nice little comment before the red-ink A+:
"Good plot-line, screenplays are a lot of work & you did a nice job with developing characters & setting."
But I did not write it to score a good grade or impress the teacher in any way. Like any writer that proclaims themselves as writers: I wrote it, because I felt compelled to write it. It was inching inside of me. It was my own therapy over what was going on around me. It was my way of finally realizing the big reality check in life: there is so much more out there than me! And the fact that whatever end of the world crisis I may get into, people elsewhere is suffering far worse.
That lady, for a good example, lost her husband. And it was not even for any justified cause or reason.
Ten years later, two questions still haunt me. Two unanswerable questions that surfaced that day and that make everyone else uncomfortable when I bring it up.
How many more people need to die (whether in America or in other countries in the world) before we could imagine a better world than what we think God wants out of us? And do we really need to pray to God to have that question answered?
You do not have to answer. It is not an easy question to answer. But promise me this. Think about the question.
K.H.; August 2, 2011.
****
SEPTEMBER 9/SEPTEMBER 11
Written: September 14th/15th, 2001.
FADE IN. A little cabin outside of NEWARK, NEW JERSEY.
INT. Cabin - evening
SANA sits there at the TABLE writing a LETTER to her father... TOMMY, her five-year- old son, sits on the floor decorating his coloring books. Just then...the doorknob turns. At the door-
KEVIN enters the cabin, holding in his hands is a dozen of ROSES for Sana, and a plane jet for Tommy.
SANA: Steve Petze called, he expects you to fly to San Francisco Tuesday instead of Wednesday. Do you really have to go?
KEVIN: Yes, if you want to move to California. I have to talk to Steve. He said there's a house there we can purchase.
SANA: I know...but, technically, we are on vacation here. Tommy hasn't seen you since we moved in to my parents' cabin.
KEVIN: Which reminds me, did you ship your fathers' CANE yet?
SANA: No, I'm writing a note to him right now...
KEVIN: That cane must have been here for a while...he hasn't been here in years. Don't forget to thank your parents. We moved out of New York so fast, we don't even have a chance to get a house. It's a good thing that I got transferred from the NYPD to the SFPD.
SANA: Yes, I know.
Kevin walks toward his laptop that's sitting on the BOOKCASE. He grabs it, turns it on, and logs on. Tommy crawls toward him.
TOMMY: (in baby talk) DADDY! THANX FOR THE AIRPLANE...LOOK WHAT' I CAN DO!
Tommy demonstrates how a plane fly's by rising the plane in his hands up in the air and make plane engine sounds.
KEVIN: (laughs) That's right. I'm going to be up there Tuesday. Are you going to miss me?
TOMMY: YES!
KEVIN: I'm only going to be gone a few days. I'll be back Thursday. Kevin goes on Yahoo! Site and logs on to his email.
KEVIN: (CONTD) Hey, Tommy. You can tell mommy that whenever you want to reach me...you can email me...I'1l have my cell phone on and you know that the cell phone connects to the Internet.
Sana sighs. She has a bad, gut feeling that something bad is going to happen. She always has that feeling when her family is separated.
SANA: You'll promise you will reply to every single email I send you within ten minutes.
KEVIN: Within ten minutes...Man, if I tell any body that my wife wants me to email her within ten minutes, they'll think I am whipped!
Kevin sees that Sana is not amused.
KEVIN: (cont'd) I can't promise you every ten minutes or even every hour on the hour, but I can promise that I will keep contact with you constantly.
Sana walks toward Kevin and kisses him.
Near the fireplace-
Tommy makes a gross face.
TOMMY: YUCK!
Sana and Kevin look at Tommy and laughs.
3 HRS LATER
Near the fire place
Tommy went to bed a couple of hours ago. Kevin and Sana are sitting on the floor near the fire...and they've been talking off and on while looking at the fire.
KEVIN: Listen, I'll call my mom tomorrow and Tommy can stay over her house for a day. I don't remember the last time we had some time 'alone'.
SANA: It has been a while, and that's why I don't want you going on that plane.
KEVIN: We've been through this before...nothing is going to happen to me. Planes are safer then anything else.
SANA: That's not true...look what happen to Aaliyah. She died from a plane crash.
KEVIN: Aaliyah's plane had too much stuff in the plane itself. I'm sure every accident that happens with planes, people learn what to do and not to do.
SANA: What would I do if you were gone?
KEVIN: You're not listening to me. Nothing IS GOING TO HAPPEN TO ME.
Sana sighs . . . she stands up and walks toward the table. She sits down and does finishing touches to her note. Kevin then gets up and walks toward Sana. He then sits down with her.
Near the table-
KEVIN: (cont'd) Ok, look. If anything happens to me...you and Tommy move to California immediately and talk to Steve. He is a friend with a buddy of mine, whom works at Time Square. So you buy a house using the cash we won off 'Who wants to be a Millionaire', and also start on the book you were supposed to write.
Sana nods her head, keeping her eyes on the note and off Kevin.
THE NEXT DAY
Near the table-
A cup of coffee got tipped over recently and is spilling off the table to the ground. Tommy's cat sits and watches outside the cabin through the window.
EXT. FRONT GATE -Night
The gate is opening and closing because of the strong wind.
INT: Cabin - moments later
Near the fire place-
Kevin's book 'Schindler's List' is laying on the ground. Sana's letter to her father is scattered all around the room.
Sana and Kevin lay in a blanket fast a sleep. They had a whole night to themselves of pure love. Their clothes are all around the floor.
In Kevin's dreams, a little boy says goodbye to a weird looking alien...John Williams' music can be heard through the background.
In Sana's dreams a complete madness and tragedy as Sana dreams up destruction. Sana then wakes up; she looks at Kevin and smiles. In her mind, something awful will happen. But in her heart, she feels that everything is going to be ok. She's happy to move, start a fresh new life, be with Tommy, and love her husband. As Sana thoughts go wild, she falls slowly to sleep and dreams she's at a 'TOOL' concert.
6:12am
INT cabin - morning
At the table-
Sana cleans up the mess from last night. She wipes the coffee stain on the carpet and picks up pieces of her father's note lying on the ground. Kevin packs for his trip.
KEVIN: (yelling from the bathroom) Mom says she'll be at the airport with Tommy before my flight.
Kevin walks toward Sana. Sana makes him some coffee. SANA: You know what that means.
KEVIN: Yes, I'll get a big speech of not eating the plane's food but drink 1ft's of wine
on the flight.
SANA: Yes, and lets not forget making fist with your toes when you get to the hotel. KEVIN: Man, I wonder how she got that!
SANA: Well, you are a cop so of course she'll watch every single cop flick and give you advice from it.
KEVIN: She's been doing that for years!
SAN A: I just hope you don't do a Bruce Willis.
KEVIN: What are you talking about?
SANA: Every time you go on vacation either as a family or business trip like this one, you like to play hero.
KEVIN: It's a habit.
SANA: A bad habit. Please, not this time...I want you alive when you come back.
KEVIN: For the last time, nothing is going to happen to me.
7:30 am
INT. NEWARK INTERNATIONAL AIRPORT ~ MORNING
Out side of the gate to the plane going to San Francisco.
Kevin's mom squeezes Kevin so tight that Kevin is having hard time breathing.
KEVIN: Ok, mom, I promise not to eat what they give me...
KEVIN'S MOM: But its okay to drink their wine.
KEVIN: I got it mom.
Kevin's mom takes a step back.
KEVIN: Hey, Tommy, give me a hug. Tommy grabs hold to Kevin and cries.
TOMMY: I DON'T WANT YOU TO GO, I HAD A BAD DREAM LAST NIGHT.
KEVIN: It was just a bad dream. Planes are safer then cars.
TOMMY: REALLY?
KEVIN: Yes, give us a kiss.
Tommy gives Kevin a kiss on the left cheek.
KEVIN: Give me another kiss on the right cheek for good luck.
Tommy gives Kevin a kiss on the right cheek.
TOMMY: I LUV YOU DADDY!
KEVIN: I love you too, I think grandma needs a hug now. You now how much she cries every time I go away.
TOMMY: OKAY.
Kevin's mom grabs Tommy and carries him in her arms.
It's now Sana's turn as she hugs Kevin real tight. She hasn't hugged him like this in years.
SANA: Don't forget to email me.
KEVIN: I won't. Do me a favor though. SANA: What?
KEVIN: Could you tape 'Band of Brothers' for me?
Sana smiles.
SANA: You and your Spielberg.
Sana now gets emotional as she kisses Kevin, a very passionate kiss. This goes on for a couple of minutes.
TOMMY: YUCK!
P .A. ANNOUNCER: Flight 93 to San Francisco is now boarding.
KEIVN: That's my flight, I will be back Thursday...
7:45 am
INT. PLANE - MORNING
Kevin sits in his first class seat. Right next to him sits a very young and beautiful girl.
GIRL: Hi, my name is Renee.
Kevin holds out his index finger, showing the girl his wedding ring.
KEVIN: Kevin.
RENEE: Lucky girl.
KEVIN: Excuse me.
RENEE: I mean your wife, she's a lucky girl.
KEVIN: Why you say that?
RENEE: Handsome guy like you, wish I had that luck.
KEVIN: You're very beautiful, you should have a line up of guys who would want you.
RENEE: Yeah, a line up of jerks!
KEVIN: I see, what do you do, Renee?
RENEE: Well, I'm heading to California to be an actress. How about you?
KEVIN: I was a cop at NY ...and I got a transfer to San Francisco, my wife and son is staying at a cabin while I get to do all the fun stuff like buying a house.
RENEE: Sounds like lots of fun!
AT THE COUCH S SEATS-
Four men wait for a signal.
P.A.: We're now in the air, and will be in San Francisco in about 5 hours. . Enjoy the flight.
The four men look at each other and nod... they all get up and walk toward the cockpit.
INT. COCKPIT
PILOT: So, I heard that Goldberg couldn't sign on for the WWF until his contract with Time Warner expires.
CO-PILOT: When will that be?
PILOT: 2003.
Just then…two of the four men walks into the cockpit.
Man #1: I'm sorry but you won't be needed for the duration of the flight.
The second man stabs the two pilots and takes over the cockpit... while the first man talks on the P.A.
Man #1: Ladies and gentlemen, there has been a change in the destination. Don't be frighten, we won't hurt you but if you do anything stupid. We have two men up front that will be watching you...if you decide to call your love one, please do so.
9:00 am
INT. AIR TRAFFIC CONTROLS IN CHICAGO - MORNING
Frank has been working all night and was ready to go when something on the screen came up.
FRANK: (to him self) OH my god.
Frank runs to his boss's office.
FRANK: (cont'd) Sir, you better come here and look at this.
Paul (Frank's boss) walks with Frank to the radar.
PAUL: What is it?
FRANK: OH, American Airlines Flight 11 has just disappeared.
PAUL: What do you mean, just disappeared?
FRANK: It was in direct hit to a tall building and then it just disappeared.
Frank eyes the screen again.
FRANK: (cont'd) There it is again...Untied Airlines Flight 175 just disappeared as well.
Paul looks at the screen.
FRANK: What the hell is going on?
Just then. . .
Bob runs toward Paul and is out of breath.
BOB: You better turn on CNN.
9:25 am
INT. STUDIO - HOWARD STERN SHOW - MORNING
Howard Stem: One plane hits the WTC north tower, and eighteen minutes after that, a
second plane hits the WTC south tower...1 don't think it was accidental.
INT. KEVIN'S PLANE - MORNING.
Howard Stern can be heard from the radio Renee's holding in her arms.
RENEE: Are we going to die?
KEVIN: I don't know.
Kevin gets out his cell phone and connects to the net. He makes a quick entail to Sana...and thinks.
KEVIN: (cont'd) Most likely...yes.
RENEE: What do you mean?
KEVIN: Well, I make a bet that the pilots are dead and there is a connection to the two planes that crashed and this one.
RENEE: Are you going to do something?
KEVIN: What do you mean?
RENEE: Die Hard his a*s or something!
Kevin thinks to himself and came up with a solution.
KEVIN: Okay, most likely, this plane will crash into something...that's what these a*s-holes want, right?
RENEE: I guess.
KEVIN: We have to stop them. Stay here.
Kevin gets up and walk casually to the rest room. I
INT. REST ROOM - MOMENTS LATER
Kevin gets out his gun and prays.
-Moments later, one of the four men walks in the bathroom.
MAN #3: Hey, what are you doing?
Kevin aims his gun at the man and pulls the trigger. –
FLASH-
9:53 am
Everybody freaks in the plane. Man #4 walks toward the bathroom, Kevin walks out and shoots him.
KEVIN: Stay calm every body.
Man #1 walks out of the cockpit to see what's going on.
KEVIN: Freeze.
MAN #1: You are making a big mistake here. We have more planes, you know.
KEVIN: Shut up. Put your hands on your head right now.
Man # 1 slowly rises his hands. In his sleeve lies a knife. Kevin slowly cuffs the man # 1 but man # 1 stabs Kevin and Kevin drops to the ground. The gun drops between Renee and Kevin's seats. Renee picks up the gun and shoots man # 1. Man # 1 drops down. Kevin runs to the cockpit and fights with Man #2. Man #2 tries to steer but can't hold on. Kevin takes the stick and aims for some trees . . ..
-FLASH- 10:10 am
INT. Sana's cabin..morning.
Sana sits near the fireplace, laptop on her lap. She logins on Yahoo! to check her email. She looks at the screen.
1 unread messages.
She clicks on it and reads. .
Dear Sana,
My plane has been hijacked. If you haven't already heard, two planes hit the twin towers. When you get this, I will probably be dead. Remember our plan... take the money and move. Work on your book, and take care of Tommy for me. Love always from the heavens,
Your husband, Kevin
SANA: (tears running down her face as gasps to her self) Oh my god...
She gets up and goes crazy. She throws her NOTES to her dad on the ground; she knocks over her COFFEE to the ground. She walks to the door and exits the cabin.
EXT. Front yard to the cabin - morning
Sana runs out of the yard, opens the GATE, and runs down the street hysterical and crying.
Int. Cabin - moments later
Tommy's cat looks on to Sana.
-FLASH-
Van Halen 'Right Now' can be heard through the background. Images of all four planes crashing is seen on a TV screen.
Fade Out:
****
Author's retrospect about That Day
So much has happened the ten years after that day. So much in America. And so much in my own life. But one thing I never realized then but now appreciate is how much something like that day can affect a person's whole outlook on life. I also appreciate the fact that I have the ability to write.
Although writers, like singers/painters/and anybody else in the creative/art world, exist to entertain and to inspire - most writers have one thing in common: they write how they feel. And that sums up the screenplay I wrote in 11th grade. I was reflecting what I was feeling about 9/11.
The ten-year anniversary is coming up ever so quickly, and although I could have waited till September to write this (and include the script with this), I guess the current events in Norway compelled me to publish this a little earlier.
Did you know that most 16-year-old kids in every country (besides America, the proud) were aware of what was going on in the world before 9/11? One thing I can say is Americans, as a whole, had become completely ignorant to the rest of the world.
There was this cocky entitlement that no one could ever attack us. But on the other hand, it is a sad realization that the world isn't perfect, and the pre-9/11 days are over. There is these fears that at any given moment; the party could be over. But the point of That Day isn't to be political on either side. The point of That Day is to remind people, left/right/whatever's, and the significance that day had on all of us.
A week or so ago, Norway had their own 9/11. But very few people care. In fact, Whinehouse was more of headline news on many people's social networks than Norway.
It's time to wake up. It's time to educate. And it's time to reflect why events occurred that day (and many days like that day). And trust me when I say, you won't find it on CNN/Fox news/or your bible.
I imagine you *might* find it residing in a John Lennon song, though.
K.H.; August 3rd, 2011.