September 12, 2001
The Day After
I'm not sure if it's ironic or not that a tragedy marks my journal's return from summer hiatus, when it was a tragedy (the shootings at Columbine) that marked the beginning of it. I'm not sure if it's a bad omen, or if it means nothing at all. Probably the latter.
I did see some televised coverage when I was having a couple drinks at Applebee's. (Yes, I know I should've been at the gym, but I was there Monday, and was still sore. Poor excuse, I know, but there you are . . . ) I was there when President Bush came on to speak to us. I was amazed at how quiet it got in the restaurant. People stopped eating and drinking. Wait staff stopped serving. The bartender stopped mixing drinks. I'm sure the kitchen staff ceaced work as well, as we all listened to our leader. It didn't matter taht I don't particularly like President Bush - I certainly didn't vote for him, and have never, ever liked him - suddenly, I needed him! I needed my President to talk to me, to reassure me, to inspire me, to rally me. And, he did. Maybe I'm just too easily swayed by silver-tongued devils, but his speech did reassure me, inspire me, and rally me. I made me feel stronger, more secure. It made me proud to be an American.
I'm still in shock from the whole terrorist incident, but I'm more numb than I was yesterday. I'm glad I was able to be at work, away from the television and the radio. Oh, sure the televisions were on, here, and some people had radios, but I didn't go look or listen. I did check CNN.com and other on-line news agencies for updates, but they took some time to be updated, so I wasn't baraged with images, and words and reactions and stories, etc. It wasn't until I got home that I learned the plane that crashed in Pennsylvania had been hijacked as well. It wasn't until I got home that I leared passengers had made phone calls from the doomed planes, and people who were in the buildings at the time of the collisions were telling their stories, and that two- to three-hundred fire fighteres and EMS workers and police officers were lost, and that up to 800 people could be dead at the Pentagon. I'm glad I didn't know any of this until I got home. I wouldn't have been able to function if I'd known.
It was only seconds later that the restuarant, and perhaps the whole country, erupted in a flurry of activity again. One guy at the bar bitched loudly that President Bush hadn't actually said anything, and it annoyed me that he spoiled the mood for me. Thankfully, he and his companion left soon after, still complaining loudly. The blender at the bar started up, and conversation increased as the volume of the television was turned down. I returned to my notepad - my new dinner compainion since I started writing fanfic a few months ago - but found myself unable to write anything. I have a couple stories I'm very close to finishing, but I was just unable to put pen to paper. I left soon after, and hit the Wherehouse where I picked up a couple Sarah Brightman CDs, among other things. I spent way too much money, and should feel guilty, but I don't. Then I went home, and, although I tried not to, I ended up watching the news. There was nothing else on. Well, almost. TVLand had it's regular programming, as did A&E and The Discovery Channel. Home and Garden, and one other channel I can't recall now, were off the air completely. The time just didn't feel right for a sitcom, and the other channels had depressing programming, so I gave up, took my shower, and went to bed at nine. I didn't see or hear any more about the terrorist attack until this morning. And they were still talking about the phone calls from the air, and they were talking about a couple of survivors being pulled from the rubble of the WTC, and they were estimating the numbers of the dead, and presumed dead . . . I just gave up, and went to work. I had to get away from it.
Hez
ESCAPEEscape is suspended for now.
Next© 2001 hez
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