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lagilmanI went to bed last night not knowing what to expect from the morning.
I woke early to both the cats huddled close, and a dawn cold wind coming in through the window. I waited, and the memories came. They will alway be with me, more vivid than film: the black and crimson gash, cutting diagonally across the first Tower. The glinting metal of the second plane as it circled and flew between the buildings, disappearing from our sight. The sideways-expanding fireball that came mere seconds later. The rise and fall of sirens, unending. The ash on the face of a rescue worker, a co-worker's husband; their embrace in the hallway before he went back down into the carnage. The stink and grit of ash in the vents, in the air outside. The blue of the sky, the mocking warmth of the mid-day sun.
The rising pillar of smoke behind us, thick and black as the devil's grin, as we walked away, trying to get home.
Five years ago I stood, helpless, and watched as 2,749 people were murdered.
Now, as then, all I can do is bear witness.
I will live. I will remember. I will mourn.
Yit-gadal v'yit-kadash sh'mey raba, b'alma di v'ra hirutey, vyam-lih mal-hutey b'ha-yey-hon uv'yomey-hon uv'ha-yey d'hol beyt yisrael ba-agala u-vizman kariv, v'imru amen.
Y'hey sh'mey raba m'varah l'alam ul'almey alma-ya.
Yit-barah v'yish-tabah v'yit-pa-ar v'yit-romam v'yit-na-sey v'yit-hadar v'yit-aleh v'yit-halal sh'mey d'kud-sha, b'rih hu, leyla min kol bir-hata v'shi-rata tush-b'hata v'ne-hemata da-amiran b'alma, v'imru amen.
Y'hey sh'lama raba min sh'ma-ya, v'ha-yim aleynu v'al kol yisrael, v'imru amen.
Oseh shalom bim-romav, hu ya-aseh shalom aleynu v'al kol yisrael, v'imru amen.
May God grant abundant peace and life to us and to all Israel. Let us say: Amen.
May Adonai who ordains harmony in the universe grant peace to us and to all Israel. Let us say: Amen.
I woke early to both the cats huddled close, and a dawn cold wind coming in through the window. I waited, and the memories came. They will alway be with me, more vivid than film: the black and crimson gash, cutting diagonally across the first Tower. The glinting metal of the second plane as it circled and flew between the buildings, disappearing from our sight. The sideways-expanding fireball that came mere seconds later. The rise and fall of sirens, unending. The ash on the face of a rescue worker, a co-worker's husband; their embrace in the hallway before he went back down into the carnage. The stink and grit of ash in the vents, in the air outside. The blue of the sky, the mocking warmth of the mid-day sun.
The rising pillar of smoke behind us, thick and black as the devil's grin, as we walked away, trying to get home.
Five years ago I stood, helpless, and watched as 2,749 people were murdered.
Now, as then, all I can do is bear witness.
I will live. I will remember. I will mourn.
Yit-gadal v'yit-kadash sh'mey raba, b'alma di v'ra hirutey, vyam-lih mal-hutey b'ha-yey-hon uv'yomey-hon uv'ha-yey d'hol beyt yisrael ba-agala u-vizman kariv, v'imru amen.
Y'hey sh'mey raba m'varah l'alam ul'almey alma-ya.
Yit-barah v'yish-tabah v'yit-pa-ar v'yit-romam v'yit-na-sey v'yit-hadar v'yit-aleh v'yit-halal sh'mey d'kud-sha, b'rih hu, leyla min kol bir-hata v'shi-rata tush-b'hata v'ne-hemata da-amiran b'alma, v'imru amen.
Y'hey sh'lama raba min sh'ma-ya, v'ha-yim aleynu v'al kol yisrael, v'imru amen.
Oseh shalom bim-romav, hu ya-aseh shalom aleynu v'al kol yisrael, v'imru amen.
May God grant abundant peace and life to us and to all Israel. Let us say: Amen.
May Adonai who ordains harmony in the universe grant peace to us and to all Israel. Let us say: Amen.
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Date: 2006-09-11 03:04 pm (UTC)no subject
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Date: 2006-09-11 03:22 pm (UTC)God bless the souls of those who perished, except those of the murderers. I hope they continue being made exquisitely aware of just how wrong they were.
Sorry. Having trouble turning the other cheek on this one.
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Date: 2006-09-11 03:22 pm (UTC)no subject
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Date: 2006-09-12 01:56 am (UTC)no subject
Date: 2006-09-13 08:13 pm (UTC)A chap on a mailing list was strongly recommending the CBS documentary on it (the one Mad Robin's husband won an Emmy for sound design on).
I thought about it.
I remembered the clouds of black, toxic smoke filling the sky.
I remembered the National Guardsman with full gear and M16, looking for the owner of a car on 23rd Street outside my office because they were trying the clear the street for emergency vehicles.
I remembered the NAtional Guard Armory I passed by every day on the way to the office becoming the HQ for rescue and relief efforts.
I remembered the hospitals clearing Emergency Rooms in anticipation of a flood of casualties, who never arrived because they all either got out or died horribly.
I remembered fire stations obscured by flowers and memorials to all of the firefighters who died trying to save people.
I remembered every pay phone kiosk becoming an impromptu shrine, with copies of posters of the missing and votive candles.
I remembered... No. I won't watch it. Once was too much.
______
Dennis
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Date: 2006-09-13 08:29 pm (UTC)Yeah, oh yeah. There's a line of Springsteen's -- "holy pictures of our children" -- that knocks me to the ground every time. The bus station across from St. Vincent's, coated in posters and flyers of faces that would never be seen again...
"I see you Mary in the garden
In the garden of a thousand sighs
There's holy pictures of our children
Dancin' in a sky filled with light..."