As the photo shows, folks are stripping off their clothing because the intense heat has been absorbed by the fabric.
Look for the brave woman holding her baby out the window to protect him from the smoke and heat.
They're all dead now.
Posted on 10/15/2001 9:40:48 PM PDT by Mercuria
It has begun.
The bleeding foreigners and bleeding hearts will make it difficult for the Western media to figure out which ones should get air time quicker, slicker and longer, but figure it out they will. (Once the anthrax stories dissipate, of course.)
"Your media is funny," said a woman from Spain. "On TV in Madrid I have seen them passing the buckets filled with the pieces from the towers. But not here."
No, not pieces of walls or of glass or desk debris or of what was once a fire engine, but pieces of those who felt sheltered by those walls, looked through those panes of glass, sat at those desks, rode in courageously on that engine.
A friend of ours just returned from a trip back home to Manhattan. A police officer friend of hers took her down to Ground Zero. She is still crying.
She saw what the media here thought she shouldn't. And it didn't make her want to run away, it made her want to stay. It is one thing, from the priveleged perch of news executiveship, to call a terrorist an "alleged hijacker". It is quite another when, upon seeing one of a million bricks being turned over and lifted up for removal, and seeing upon it a face, just a woman's face, with nothing else attached, staring back at you, to call a terrorist anything but a confirmed cold-blooded murderer.
Multiple units of rescue teams, at least eleven, went into those towers after they had been struck. Multiple units of rescue teams never came out. There weren't enough rescue teams left on the outside to rescue the rescuers. It would have been a job for Superman. Or maybe Hercules. However, for the most part, it is people who are rescued, pieces of people just need to be picked up.
After the collapse the dispatchers frantically ran up the list of teams that had gone in. Once busy frequencies were silent. "Unit one. Come in, unit one." Silence. "Unit two?" Silence. "Unit three?!" Silence. Crackle. Fuzz. "Unit four?" And so on.
And then a voice came through. "I can't move!" Another voice, frantic, "It's black. I can't see anything. I'm stuck." A woman's voice, "My arm! My arm's gone!!" And so on.
Yes, this story is redundant. It has already been related. But this is the story which must remain, which must reside within us, must remind us to remember to never forget. And we must do that on our own, because I fear our professional storytellers may not.
There's a sad story I read yesterday of a wailing Afghan man mourning the loss of his five year-old son, a man who saw the insides of his child, a sight no one, no where, should ever have to see.
But that man was given notice, over three weeks of it, ample time to try and protect his family from things that go "boom". I wonder what people in New York and in the air, on September 11th, would have given for a fraction of that time of warning.
We will hear of each casualty "over there". We will be convinced of our complicity, berated for boorishness, warned not to warmonger. Each corpse will convict us. But if you talk to those on the ground and in the know in NYC, we've only been told of half the deaths right here in the homeland.
Apparently there were some who knew, by the way, who had prior notice, who were unsurprised when the atrocity occurred. Local folk. Feeding off of the Great Satan, though, has failed to engender their respect or loyalty, and not even their mercy. People went to work in those towers, and part of the income they earned went to educate these ingrates, light up their streets at night, police their neighborhoods. But money really can't buy love.
And now, post-attack, if twenty ungroomed people show up with some peace signs and other recycled sentiments, it's news. As a veteran of countless L.A.-based protests, this bugs me. Because I know that if a placard-waver hits the pavement and Channel 4 News isn't there to record it, the protester doesn't really make a sound.
No one really heard us denounce the war in Kosovo, they failed to film us pleading for Elian, our Saturdays -- when we numbered in the hundreds and the props, oh, what great props! -- in November, and into December of last year, in support of Bush's win in Florida never really made it to primetime (although the dirty dozen across the street, the Gorons, did.) Yet now, somehow, shouting, among other things, "Workers of the world unite!" is interesting enough for airplay. "Workers of the world unite!" indeed. What loons. As if any of them actually have real jobs. They do, however, have the networks' lights, cameras, and action.
And so that is why I'm writing this, why I strive to keep fresh the WTC wounds, why my eyes still dampen daily, why I've bought a spotlight so my flag can wave all night.
Because I do mourn the five year-old whose insides saw the light of day, because my own five year-old tearfully accepted the President's offer to earn a dollar to help those on the other side, because all blood that's spilled deserves, at the least, our solemn respect, even, or, yes, because I'm biased, especially when it's innocent and bleeds red, white and blue. In this age of relativity, where mommas sue ballet companies to accept their chubby girls instead of looking for diet plans, that's not a kosher statement. But I had a powdered sugar donut for breakfast this morning and I'm feeling a little reckless so I'm just going to say it -- all may be created equal, but some grow up to be better.
Mercurial Times exclusive commentary. Reprints must credit the author and Mercurial Times.
Can't wait to hear you next month.
(Creating an "Anna_Z_Bump_List"...let me know if you want to be included...)
(But I got you on the AnnaZ BUMP list, note!!)
As the photo shows, folks are stripping off their clothing because the intense heat has been absorbed by the fabric.
Look for the brave woman holding her baby out the window to protect him from the smoke and heat.
They're all dead now.
I saw a BBC broadcast with the Arab fellow from Al-Jeezebel TV making this same kind of "moral equivalence" arguments. The gutless suits in whiteface refused to challenge him.
Thank God for a Kurd newsman on the panel who did-- he came out swinging with "When Tony Blair appeared on your station, you challenged everything he said. When Bin Laden spoke, your just listened. You are an enabler of the terrorists. You stood by and said nothing when Saddam gassed my people, but your were there on the ground when an American bomb missed its target in Kabul and four civilians died."
...they'd just go back to Clinton's. Unfortunately.
Nice commentary
All the work she has being a wife, mommy, and activist, and she has designated some time for these gems...I KNEW she'd be a hit!
proudasaf@oldpeacockofmytopnana.com!
Ditto that.
As painful as it is, every American should really see that picture.
ijustcantsayenuffgoodaboutth@annaz.com!
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