Same job, different uniform.

Tuesday, September 11, 2007

Six Years Later

Today was 9/11, and I didn't post about it but not because I don't care. What can I say that has not already been said?

I could say that I was living five miles from the Pentagon when that second plane struck. But millions of other people were too.

Work was at a standstill, I could write. So was everyone's work.

My understanding of and confidence in American security was changed. So was everyone's. We thought our misgivings would last.

They didn't.

It wasn't the event in my life; the time and place where everything is turned upside down and waking, breathing, eating, and trying not to dream become the answer to "what I did today."

I had survived and so had everyone I knew. My changes were just a nip here, a tuck there. Everything limped back to the way it should be. People had died but they were not my people. Terrorists were real, but they would never find me. Economies were shaken, but they would be restored.

My confidence in America faltered but did not ultimately fail.

What can I say about 9/11? Forgive me, you who still grieve. I have forgotten you.

I won't forget your enemy.

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