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September 11, 2018


On this day of hurricane preparation for the Carolinas, and memorials about 9/11, we will just share this and send our most positive thoughts out in the world for all who need them.
Tell your loved ones that you love them.


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This is why we all need this blog, and each other, now more than ever.


This was, and still is, one of the most touching pieces I've read about 9/11. It still makes me cry.
I was working at the hospital in Charlotte when this happened. A paramedic came and told me some idiot in a small plane had hit the World Trade Center. We found a TV and saw it being replayed. At least we thought it was a replay. It was actually the second plane hitting the other tower. I don't remember much else about that day because I was in shock. I still don't believe it. God bless the firemen, EMT's, and policemen that had to work through all of this horror in all three locations. God bless those who lost friends or family in this senseless tragedy.

Hugs to my blog friends and the Blog and judi.

We presume the Manilow ad was incidental...

Best. Column. Ever.

I hope everything works out for the best for nursecindy and everyone else in Florence's path.

Dusty in here...

Pogo, I was wondering if I was the only person to get the Manilow ad. Dave needs to get back here to defend his honor.

Mineral exploration takes a person to many remote places where boom towns once stood. I remember a visit to the barren, windswept sagebrush area where the town of Candelaria, Nevada, once was a rich silver mining town of over 15,000 souls. It was even touted to be the new capital city. Then the silver ran out.

When I visited the site, not a single building stood, just stone steps leading to long vacant lots. Yet there were people who never left Candelaria. They resided behind the rusty gates of the cemetery.
On the gate someone had placed a brass plaque with words engraved on it that I have never forgotten.

"As you are now, Once we were
As we are now, soon you will be
Please remember us."

These words held a lot of meaning when the "Old Timers" wrote them. And they still do.

Darn you, Le Pet: now my mascara's running.

Thank you, Dave.

If someone now sings "Danny Boy" I'll be crying for hours.....

A couple years ago I had to travel to Baltimore for work. My wife and I decided to make a family road trip out of it, with one of the stops being the hallowed ground of Gettysburg. We completed our self-tour of the grounds at dusk, overlooking the field made (in)famous by Picket's men. It was somewhat eerie, and sent chills up my spine. No doubt about it, it's hallowed ground.

On the drive home a couple days later, we somehow ended up on a remote Pennsylvania highway. In the middle of nowhere, right about dusk, there was suddenly a roadsign that said something like "Flight 93 Memorial, Next Left." So we made an unplanned stop. It's an unassuming place, but I got the same chills there that I had gotten a couple days before. No doubt about it, Dave's right: it, too, is hallowed ground.

We stayed at a campground near Flight 93 the following August. We stopped to ask for directions and picked up more than street names.

A tradesman in town routed us to the Memorial that was growing and to the site of the Quecreek Mine where 9 for 9 was the victorious chant the following July. It was almost as if G-d decided that the nearby residents had born enough for one lifetime. Or at least one year. "You can't understand Flight 93 without Quecreek," he said. And he was right.

The Flight 93 site was a parking lot with a fence. Docents were nearby as well as a mix of park personnel -- the jurisdictional boundaries were still being worked out.

A couple of weeks after the Quecreek Mine recovery, most of the equipment had been picked up. The road was something of a point of contention on whether or not it was public -- it was pretty much destroyed by the heavy equipment that traversed. A church at one end of the field had put up a Welcome Visitors! sign. I wondered if the mud on the steps was from the rescue and no one wanted to wash it off.

In subsequent tragedies, I have looked for the Quecreeks that follow. I still shed tears in remembrance, but sometimes I can also acknowledge a spark. The tradesman I met outside the post office was right.

Dave's masterpiece is proof positive that all great clowns have a corresponding greatness of soul (although Dave's really good at hiding his under lots of booger jokes.

I don't know why the image of the watch commander from "Hill Street Blues" comes to mind for me whenever life seems under threat by natural or man-made disaster, but here are his words, directed to Dave, Judi, and all here on the blog: "Let's be careful out there."

A very moving remembrance from Dave. Thanks for sharing it, Judi.

Judi, thanks for sharing and, Everyone, thanks for your comments.

I was working in a federal campus on suburban Maryland. While walking down the hall, I heard people in the conference room which had a TV. The people there told me that a small plane had just flown into one of the Twin Towers. No one knew whether it was accidental or intentional but, within moments, a plane hit the second tower. Then, a plane hit the Pentagon.

That was close both literally and figuratively because several people in the office had friends or relatives who worked there. One woman was in shock because her son was at the Pentagon. Another woman grabbed some hands and held an impromptu prayer circle. I was the highest ranking person present so I released everyone.

I was unable to call my wife, who taught many miles away. After about two hours, she got through to me. She picked up our son, who went to school near her, then returned to her school to ensure that all of the students got home safely.

There were more rumors than solid information and no one knew what was really happening.

It took two days to verify that my friends in the Pentagon were safe and physically uninjured. (One had an office in the area that was destroyed but she was out of the office at that moment. Another was on his way to a meeting there but was delayed.) All of the friends and relatives of my coworkers also were safe but people at work were still shaking days later.

What I remember best from the chaos, fear, and uncertainty was the way people supported each other. That was true on 9/11 and in the days that followed. People continued doing their jobs, the way my wife returned to her school. People offered prayers, rides, phones, information, and moral and physical support. After the initial confusion, people rose to their best and the world continued on.

On the lighter side, I just ran across this note on Imgur:

"I urge all my family and friends in the Carolinas, and on the entire east coast, to be careful. I can't afford to go to 27 baby showers in June because you lost power."

Not that I would ever make fun of hurricanes, but;
Open this link:
Click on the + twice
Now think of Zap Comics (Sparky Sperm Cell).

Good luck to all those effected.

Not that I would ever make fun of a hurricane, but;
open this link:
Click on the + three times,
Now think Zap Comics, Sparky Sperm Cell.

My thoughts go out to all those effected.

wanderer, I guarantee no one will be coming to a baby shower for me.

Believe it not, this is the first time I am reading your post on Flight 93, Mr. Barry, and I am incredibly touched by it. I drive by Shanksville fairly often these days, so I will make a point of stopping there to pay my respect to the heroes who prevented the destruction of yet another national symbol.

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