I was a few blocks from Ground Zero when the second plane flew right past my apartment window while I was finishing breakfast, maybe a couple of hundred yards to the side. I coped just fine, I thought, but I was actually in shock for maybe a couple of months afterward. I saw the two plane shaped holes in the towers, with the flames coming out of them, I heard the stories. One of my sons had been scheduled to give a breakfast talk there but, Thank God, couldn't make it at the last minute because his plane came in late the night before.
A lot of New Yorkers lived through it, saw the towering clouds of smoke from up town or from across the harbor, and walked past the site to honor the dead or leave flowers or a prayer.
It doesn't mean anything to Obama, of course. And most of the press have entirely wiped it from their pea-sized minds.
A lot of New Yorkers lost a relative or a friend there, or they know somebody who did. After it happened, even the muggers and the drug dealers lined up to donate blood. One of my friends actually saw that, and I heard about it. Peoplel on buses and subways opened their hearts to each other as they would never do normally.
But now we're back to business as usual among the leftist elite. "What's all the fuss about?" says Obama. "I never heard about it," says his Press Secretary. "Sorry, I can't answer that question," says Obama.
Dictatorspeak.