SPEECHLESS IN SEATTLE
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SPEECHLESS IN SEATTLE

Speechless?

 Me?

 Those who know me would laugh at that remark…

but it’s the truth. 

Since September 11th 2001, 

that’s exactly what I’ve been.

 I’ve sat back and watched the news

 just like every other American. 

 

I’ve been public remembrance services,

 and flag raising ceremonies,

 just like every other American, 

and I’ve watched the public out pouring 

of words of support,

 just like every other American. 

 

At one point,

 I considered myself a writer,

 because a writer can come up with 

amazing pieces of work

 in the face of tragedy,

 using all those raw emotions to create…

yet here I sit,

almost a month later,

 and I still can’t come up with anything but this.

 

 Some writer.

 

 I tried to write a poem,

 did I ever try.

 I sat at the computer for hours on end

 staring at the blank screen,

 and couldn’t come up with a single solitary word. 

 

Then there were times 

I would write a few lines,

 and immediately delete them

 because they were garbage.

 They sounded like they came from a fifth grade child,

 who is failing English class.

 I was, 

and still am,

 incredibly frustrated.

 

 I’ve went through droughts 

of writer’s block before, 

but never when it mattered, 

never

 when my words were needed now 

more than ever. 

 

Because while many people 

have written something for this website before me,

 and just as many

 will write something for this website after me, 

If a person who was directly affected by this tragedy

 reads this site,

 then they will draw strength

 from each and every one of the poems

 or commentaries on this site,

 even 

if they all have the same message. 

 

We all have to do our part 

by writing something,

 I’m just ashamed 

it took me this long.

 I’m also ashamed

of how I first reacted

 on the morning of 

September 11th. 

 

I live out on the west coast,

 so while all of this was happening, 

I was asleep.

 I was woken up, and told to watch the TV. 

The first thing I saw 

was the second plane hitting the WTC. 

 

At first I was stunned,

 then I chuckled,

 yes, 

I actually laughed.

 I laughed because

 I thought it was some TV show

 making up some wild dramatization

 to show to people…

 how I wish now that this was the truth. 

 

Even when I realized that it was real,

 I wasn’t affected how I should have been.

 I was a little indifferent.

 

 I felt sorry for those who’s lives were lost,

 but it didn’t move me to the point 

where I had any serious worries. 

 

I came out to the living room, 

turned the news on in there,

 and then sat down at the computer,

 paying half attention to the news coverage.

 

 I kept hearing the phrase 

“World Trade Center Collapses”,

 but it didn’t register

 until about half hour after it happened

 what it really meant.

 I said aloud,

 “Wait a minute, 

they’ve been saying collapsed,

 not hit.

 

 What the…”.

 

 I got up from the computer,

 and stood in front of the TV

 just in time to see the replay 

of both towers collapsing,

 and that’s when

 it hit me.

 

 The full effect and gravity of the situation

 grabbed me with both hands, 

and slapped me across the face,

 or at least

 that’s what it felt like. 

For the next two hours 

I stood rooted to the same spot,

 just watching coverage of the event.

 

 I couldn’t believe it. 

 

I am a native New Yorker, 

and I have pictures of the 

World Trade Centers

 when I visited the city back in April

 of this year.

 It absolutely blew me away 

to think that I had just visited them, 

and now

 they’re gone.

 

 I had no idea what to do. 

 

And that’s pretty much 

the feeling I have now. 

 

I’ve sat through the weeks of mourning, 

all the threats and cries for war,

 and my emotions

 have been on a roller coaster as of late,

 but three emotions

 have been the core of my confusion. 

 

Anger,

 sorrow 

and 

hope

 mixed together, 

and sickness. 

 

Anger at the people who have done this. 

Sorrow and hope mixed 

by watching those heroic people 

working day and night hoping for survivors, 

but knowing they won’t get many. 

And sickness, at some of the American people.

 

 Who would of thought,

 that at a time when so many are becoming unified,

 there are still people out there that still disgust me.

 

 Those people are the ignorant people 

who are now committing racist hate crimes 

on the Muslim-Americans 

who reside in this country.

 

 How dare we presume 

to be so high and mighty 

that we can determine who was a part of this attack

 just by

 the color of their skin 

and 

country of origin. 

 

I heard the story of a woman 

whose family has been in America

 since her great-great-great grandfather came over.

 She had children,

 so that means

 that at a minimum, 

her immediate family is

 4th and 5th generation Americans. 

She has lived here all her life, 

and barely knows anything about the country

 her ancestors come from. 

Yet

 she now lives in fear,

 and does not let her children leave the house 

due to people perpetrating hate crimes against her.

 

 This goes back to WWII 

with the Japanese Americans

 being placed in internment camps.

 

 The public outcry is over the fact 

that innocent lives were lost in the attacks, 

how dare the American people

 do the same

 to their fellow Americans. 

This tells me that if some day

 Ireland decides to attack us, 

I will be discriminated against

 because I’m part Irish.

 Or if Scotland attacks us,

 I will be discriminated against 

because I’m part Scottish.

 I don’t know about you,

 but I don’t like that idea very much at all. 

 

I also feel helpless,

 knowing that if another attack happens, 

I will be able to do nothing to stop it. 

My mind has been going through 

other possible scenarios and places to attack.

 The fact of the matter is, there are so many,

 it’s impossible to predict. 

I live hours away from 

The Space Needle in Seattle, 

a famous US landmark.

 How devastating would it be 

if an attack took out the Golden Gate Bridge

 in California?

 New York isn’t the only state with landmarks, 

so it can happen anywhere,

 and that is the scary part. 

My heart goes out to the people 

who are now picking up the pieces

 of their shattered lives 

and trying to move on, 

they have the most difficult task 

in the world right now.

 It is my hope and prayer

 that somehow, 

at least one person 

stumbles onto this web page,

and sees all the words of encouragement

 placed here,

and comes to realize

 just how many people

are behind them,

 hoping and praying

 for them,

 and willing to do whatever it takes

to help.

 

 That is the true American spirit,

that is the true HUMAN spirit.

 I wish

I could have written something

as moving as some of the other people have written,

but right now,

 I cannot.

 

 If one person

 can find

 some kind of feeling of hope,

 or come to a realization

 that they have been doing wrong,

 then I have done my job,

 just like

 we must all

continue

to do that job.

ANTHONY

plopy@yahoo.com

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BEYOND LIBERTY

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