The Gazette ... Issue: 204 (09-11-2003)

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Topics in this issue

Johnny's Ramblings
In the Crosshairs
A Word from Our Sponsor
Scumbag of the Week

The Day Our World Stood Still

2 Years ago today, our lives were changed forever. No matter what country you hail from ... the way you look at the world, your neighbors, and every stranger you come across has changed. Let's look back at the events that brought us here, and where "here" actually is.

This special edition of The Gazette is a tribute and a reflection on 9/11/2001 Unlike our regular Gazette, in this issue we don't have a sponsor, code snippet or address anything having to do with The Internet, JimWorld, or Search Engines. This is not educational, nor is it promotional. It is, however, cleansing, and in parts, moving. I can understand if this topic does not interest you, or if you do not want to relive that day with me. I don't want you to feel compelled to read this ... just understand that I needed to write it.

The Gazette will return to normal next week.

Johnny's Ramblings

On my refrigerator, held up by a flag magnet, next to The Seattle Mariners baseball schedule are 2 unused airline tickets, dated 9/11/2001. A nonstop, cross-country flight from Seattle to Newark ... a trip to visit family, to celebrate my birthday the next day. They serve as a daily reminder for me, of what might have been, and they keep me focused on what's really important.

At about 5:50am on September 11, 2001, my wife came into the bedroom to wake me up (she's an early riser). What she said was "some dumb ass just flew a plane into the World Trade Center". We assumed it was some idiot in a private plane that just lost control. As I'm watching the news coverage, the second plane hit, and we both said "holy crap, that one was a jet", and then we knew. About an hour later, my wife was in the back changing our son, and the first tower fell. I don't remember what I screamed out, but I do remember the look on her face when she came out and saw me crying. I also remember my son asking us all day (3 years old at the time) "What's Wrong? Can we play a game?" I remember being thankful that he was too young to require an explanation of what we just saw.

The previous Sunday, I had done my first radio show in Seattle. Nervous as all get out, I spent my first hour on the airwaves interviewing Jim Wilson for the first of my weekly "geek radio" shows. Thankfully, he got me through it. Now, for my second show, I drove to the station knowing that there was no way I could do a "normal show". I spent the next 2+ hours venting with the good people of Seattle about what had just happened to us. No longer the nervous geek doing a call in show, I was instantly turned into a "voice of reason", and the punching bag that everyone needed. I matured on the air that day, not just as a radio host, but as a person.

It's still hard to put into words what I felt on that day, and the weeks that followed. Anger, dismay, sadness, grief, and anger again. I remember the goose bumps that I got when I saw the flags that were everywhere. I remember wishing that I still lived in Philadelphia, so that I could drive up to NYC and help dig for survivors. I remember hearing Americans say that we deserved it, and I remember the images of the people in the middle east dancing in the streets. I remember the look on Bush's face when he was interrupted in that classroom with the news. I remember crying during the national anthem at that first Yankees game, and I remember the Seattle Mariners all crying as they walked a huge flag around Safeco Field after clinching the AL West. And, I remember Jim Wilson's memorable forum postings immediately after it all happened. http://www.jimworld.com/articles/classic-jim/911/. I distinctly remember watching the 3 hour special "9/11" on TV, with the camera crew that had followed that fire station crew around. I remember the sounds of the bodies hitting the ground (still sends shivers down my spine), and I remember very vividly, the sea of people running from the Trade Center, and those 15 firefighters running opposite them, directly into the midst of living hell. I wear my "FDNY" hat almost every day, in salute of absolute bravery and selflessness.

To this day, I salute every police officer I see. I honk and throw a thumbs up at every firehouse I pass. I make it a point to either shake hands with, or at the very least say "Thank You" to every military man or woman that I see. My truck still bears 6 American flags, and my computer desktop is still the Eagle with the teardrop. I find myself much more focused on reality now, much more focused on my family, and much more interested in doing more for everyone else, and less for myself. I don't know if it's maturity or guilt, but since 9/11 I seem a lot less important. Less of an individual, and more a part of a huge family, 50 million brothers and sisters that just watched their father get shot in the head. Jim Wilson made the statement after 9/11 "I want my country back, and I want it back now". 2 years after the ugliest thing I've ever witnessed, I'd say Jim would be proud. We have stood up for ourselves, we have banded together as a group, and we have, for the most part, become a country that is more in tune with each other than ever before. No, we're not perfect, and no, not everything has been done right, and no, not everyone's happy about all that's gone on in the last 2 years. What has happened, though, is that everyone is energized, aware, and actually cares about what we are doing. If you watch the news, we seem to be quite a divided country. Fact is, it's our divisions, and the fervor with which we argue our individual points that proves to me that America is as strong as it's ever been, it's people are now "awake", and yes, we're taking back our country, Jim.

As you reflect on 9/11 today, reflect also on 9/10 ... when the news of the day included such things as Michael Jordan's return to basketball, to the Chandra Levy circus, and to shark attacks in Florida. Reflect on a world that will never be the same again, a world in which you didn't have a sense of fear, dread, hatred, animosity, bewilderment or distrust.

Comments (1)

In the Crosshairs

From The Miami Herald
by Leonard Pitts, Jr.
Published Wednesday, September 12, 2001

We'll go forward from this moment.

It's my job to have something to say. They pay me to provide the words that help make sense of that which troubles the American soul. But in this moment of airless shock when hot tears sting disbelieving eyes, the only thing I can find to say, the only words that seem to fit, must be addressed to the unknown author of this suffering.

You monster. You beast. You unspeakable bastard.

What lesson did you hope to teach us by your cowards attack on our World Trade Center, our Pentagon, us? What was it you hoped you would learn? Whatever it was, please know that you failed.

Did you want us to respect your cause?
You just damned your cause.

Did you want to make us fear?
You just brought us together.

Let me tell you about my people. We are a vast and quarrelsome family, a family rent by racial, social, political and class division, but a family nonetheless. We're frivolous, yes, capable of expending tremendous emotional energy on pop cultural minutiae -- a singer's revealing dress, a ball team's misfortune, a cartoon mouse. We're wealthy too, spoiled by the ready availability of trinkets and material goods, and maybe because of that, we walk through life with a certain sense of blithe entitlement. We are fundamentally decent, though -- peace loving and compassionate. We struggle to know the right thing and to do it. And we are, the overwhelming majority of us, people of faith, believers in a just and loving God.

Some people -- you, perhaps -- think that any or all of this makes us weak. You're mistaken. We are not weak. Indeed, we are strong in ways that cannot be measured by arsenals.

Yes, we're in pain now. We are in mourning and we are in shock. We're still grappling with the unreality of the awful thing you did, still working to make ourselves understand that this isn't a special effect from some Hollywood blockbuster, isn't the plot development from a Tom Clancy novel. Both in terms of the awful scope of their ambition and the probable final death toll, your attacks are likely to go down as the worst acts of terrorism in the history of the United States and, probably, the history of the world. You've bloodied us as we have never been bloodied before.

But theres a gulf of difference between making us bloody and making us fall. This is the lesson Japan was taught to its bitter sorrow the last time anyone hit us this hard, the last time anyone brought us such abrupt and monumental pain. When aroused, we are righteous in our outrage, terrible in our force. When provoked by this level of barbarism, we will bear any suffering, pay any cost, go to any length, in the pursuit of justice.

I tell you this without fear of contradiction. I know my people, as you, I think, do not. What I know reassures me. It also causes me to tremble with dread of the future.

In the days to come, there will be recrimination and accusation, fingers pointing at whose failure allowed this to happen and what can be done to prevent it from happening again. There will be heightened security, misguided talk of revoking basic freedoms. We'll go forward from this moment sobered, chastened, sad. But determined too.

Unimaginably determined.

You see, the steel in us is not always readily apparent. That aspect of our character is seldom understood by people who don't know us well. On this day, the family's bickering is put on hold.

As Americans we will weep, as Americans we will mourn, and as Americans we will rise in defense of all that we cherish.

So I ask again: What was it you hoped to teach us? It occurs to me that maybe you just wanted us to know the depths of your hatred. If that's the case, consider your message received. And take this message in exchange : You don't know my people. You don't know what we're capable of. You don't know what you just started.

But you're about to learn.

Comments (1)

A Word from Our Sponsor

Actually, a poignant word from Ron Carnell, an Original JimWorld Member & Moderator


    The Shadow of Tragedy 

        Night descends, 
        as the shadow of tragedy 
        creeps again across the world. 

        There are no stars, no moon, 
        no beacons set to guide my steps, 
        and even the breeze 
        refuses to move 
        in the darkness of this night. 

        I feel the precipice drawing near. 

        I can sense its breath, 
        not as I sense a stirring wind, 
        but rather in the expansiveness 
        of the unknown depths 
        beyond its unseen edge. 

        One step. Two. 
        How many dare I blindly take? 

        Whispers float on stagnant currents, 
        a cacophony of dire Warnings, 
        without direction, without surcease. 
        "Too near," strains their aria, 
        "You move too near the edge." 

        They fear the precipice, and rightly so. 
        I risk not death, 
        which will come this night 
        whether I step or stay, 
        but gamble instead much more. 

        One step. Two. 
        Which step will be my last? 

        "Caution!" whispers the strident voices, 
        "Lest Liberties be lost 
        within the maw of preservation, 
        and Freedom be sacrificed 
        as we foolishly defeat ourselves." 

        They are right, I concede, 
        taking another step to unseen edge. 
        Yesterday, I listened, 
        tomorrow, I'll listen again, 
        but, this night, I don't care. 

        "Beware!" drums the dissonance, 
        "Lest tragedy be counted 
        in dollars and ratings, 
        with marketing madness 
        the only memories we keep." 

        Yesterday, I listened, 
        tomorrow, I'll listen again, 
        but this night, they use the night 
        to decry what they themselves partake, 
        and I refuse to care. 

        "Take heed!" urges wisdom, 
        "Lest Justice be lost 
        in the stink of retribution, 
        and righteous outrage confused 
        with the cancer of empty hate." 

        I grit my teeth, silently insisting, 
        I don't care, I don't care, I don't care, 
        Yesterday, I did, 
        tomorrow, I will again, 
        but this night I no longer do. 

        One step. Two. 
        If I fall, will the Warnings follow into Hell? 

        Another step becomes a half-step, 
        as I feel the jagged edge of Armageddon 
        prickle the sole of my foot. 
        Five bare toes dangle helplessly 
        over the outstretched hand of eternity. 

        The darkness is no less, the foreboding no more, 
        but still I lower myself to the ground. 
        The precipice caresses the back of my knees, 
        and my feet dangle into an abyss 
        I can sense but never see. 

        I remember to breath again. 
        The sound of my lungs seems deafening, 
        the Warnings finally fade into silence, 
        and sitting here makes me feel like 
        a flitting speck in the eye of God. 

        All my certainties have long since 
        faded with the acrid smoke of tragedy, 
        like the illusions they always were. 
        There is too little justice, far too much hate, 
        and a thousand more Warnings every day of the year. 

        But not tonight. 
        Tonight, I will not care, will not fret, 
        will not plan, and I'll be d****d if I'll listen 
        to cries of alarm and disquiet 
        that refuse to honor my quiet. 

        Yesterday, I listened. 
        Tomorrow, I will add my voice to theirs. 
        Tonight, the shadow of tragedy covers my world, 
        and I just want to sit on the edge of eternity 
        and dangle my feet into its void. 

        The shadow masquerading as night enfolds me, 
        and in her reflective embrace 
        I will find what comfort I can. 
        Yesterday, I cared, 
        tomorrow I will care again, 
        but tonight I will simply remember. 

                         --- Ron C

Comments (1)

Scumbag of the Week

This award goes out to everyone that supports terrorism. Those that make the bombs, those that wear them and use them, those that harbor such hatred for humanity that the lives of innocent men, women, and children mean absolutely nothing. This award is for the people that are responsible for my having to take my seat in an airplane mentally prepared to kill someone, and crash the plane in a field to save a building. This award is for everyone that applauded the 9/11 attacks, and for everyone that thinks we deserved it. This award goes out in a big red package to the people that won't let us defend our own borders, that force us to strip search old ladies and little girls, and that think it's more important not to offend someone that might actually be a terrorist than it is to do whatever it takes to identify them. For everyone that stands in the way of us taking back our country, on our terms, this award goes out to you.

Comments (1)

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Summing It All Up

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The Gazette ... Issue: 204 (09-11-2003)

The Day Our World Stood Still

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