The response to the terrorism attack on the United States of America began on October 7, 2001. It is called "Enduring Freedom." Once it was called "Infinite Justice." I think it should just be called "War on Terrorism." Say what it is.
The World Trade Center was bombed by death-loving, Texas-trained, bin Ladenites. They also hit the Pentagon, and tried for another, still unknown target, but some brave passengers crashed the death plane.
The day began simple enough...a crisp autumn morning, coffee, a famous big-bacon docman breakfast, showers. I was still in the bedroom getting dressed when Doc turned on the big screen to watch football. In a very calm voice he said, "It started."
Ten minutes later, J called on my cell to tell me the same thing. As he said, "I sat down, heard the announcer say, "Gentlemen, start your engines." and it switched to war." After a brief discussion about how to cook a roast, he said he was going out to paint his garden shed. "This war shit will just fuck up the race."
Doc went back to watching the football game.
Me? First I called my nephew to make sure he was okay. He isn't.
This reminds me of the day when my dad walked in the door and I knew my mother had died during the night. He hugged my brother and me and said, "Everything will be alright. Together we will make it."
My dad was swept into a deep depression. He went farther and farther away from us until he disappeared two years later.
I don't fault him for it. He lost the love of his entire life and couldn't grasp any part of life without her.
Today feels that same way...a path of darkness.
I glued myself to CNN. I painted pictures. Everything that happens now just drives me deeper into artland.
[Just as I was working on this there were back-to-back explosions. Very loud and my house shook. No one in the neighborhood knows what happened. WHAT NEXT?!]
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The Day That America Stood Still