My usual September 11th posts take about ten days to ponder, and three or four to write. I didn't prepare this year, and so didn't plan any post. That changed last night.
We went out for dessert, and the waiter saw my book. He slowly and carefully pronounced each word of the title--War and Decision: Inside the Pentagon at the Dawn of the War on Terrorism, by Douglas J. Feith. Then:
You know, I think it never happened. I think your government invented it. I mean, the Pentagon. . . there wasn't a plane. No plane was ever found. I saw it in a movie. That's what I think.Me:
I think you're a crazy idiot. I know that movie, and it's bull. I had two friends aboard that plane. Tell me--if there wasn't a plane, and it wasn't crashed into the Pentagon, then where have Karen and Barbara been for the past seven years?Waiter:
Oh, I'm sorry, I didn't know you knew people on the plane.Me:
No, you didn't. Now you do.I doubt I changed his mind. Rather, I suspect the only consequence was an almost instant migraine--mine. I get them, especially when stressed or angry.
Were I in Washington, I would wear the commemorative ribbon my firm distributes annually in Karen's memory. I might have returned to the church that plays Karen's favorite hymn on September 11th. I could call old friends from past Republican campaigns and swap Barbara stories. And I could chat with the military-minded about heroes who saved lives, but died themselves.
They, and many others, were murdered seven years ago today. Rest in Peace.
Lots of Americans were more directly affected. I thought I was over it. One waiter and one migraine says I'm not.
Ted tells Barbara stories (from late 2001)
MORE & MORE:
XKCD explains why I'm less of a movie fan these days: