Free Republic's 9-11 100 Hours of Remembrance

Free Republic | 9/6/03 | Free Republic

[jriemer]

It’s 4:46am September 6.

Its a little more than 100 hours from the Second Anniversary of Start the World Trade Center Attack and the subsequent Strike on the Pentagon and the Crash in Pennsylvania. 100 hours seems to be a long time; however, it is barely enough to reflect and remember all those who perished on the ground and in the air. Each one of the victims has a story, a life, that if retold would take more than 100 hours to appreciate the richness of their stay on this earth before it was snatched away.

Since 911, there has been more sacrifice. More have taken from this earth – this time not in tragedy but in a quest for justice and the expansion of freedom. They were not helpless victims but Heroes of liberation for the Afghanis and Iraqis and protectors of our domestic security.

We would hope that you would take the time and reflect on the lives of those who died on 9-11 and those who have sacrificed their all since that day in these next 100 hours. Please contribute a post of reflection, a prayer, a memorial, a picture or even just a ping to your friends to let them know that 9-11 has not been ignored this year.

Never forget…

[Soaring Feather]

[contessa machiaveli]

we must never forget the 3000 dead. thank you for making such a personal tribute.

[LadyDoc]

The Missing, by Gerard Van der Leun

Their silence keeps me sleepless for I know
Within the smoke their ash revolves as snow,
To settle on our skin as fading stars
Dissolve into pure dust at break of day.

At dawn a distant shudder in the earth
Disclosed the fold of fire into steel,
These rumbles not from subways underground,
But screams from out of towers sheathed in flame.

We stood upon the heights like men of straw
Transfixed by flames that started in the sky,
And watched them plunging down in death¹s ballet
To land among those dying deep below.

We breathed the smoke that bent and crept and crawled.
We learned to hate the smoke that lingered so.
We knew that blood could only answer blood,
And so we yearned to go and not to go.

By evening all their ash had settled so
That on the leaves outside my window glowed
Their souls in small bright stars until the rain
Cleaned us of what could not be clean again.

That last, lost summer faded into ash.
Their faces faded as the autumn flowed
Through chill and heat into the Persian sea,
Where angered warships prowled in search of stones.

Within their city, shrines were our resolve.
We placed them where they stood or where they lay.
And now upon our stones their faces loom
And gaze at us from times beyond repeal.

Their silence keeps me sleepless for I know.

[LadyDoc]

We only part to meet again,
though mighty boundless waves may sever.
Remembrance oft shall bring thee near,
and I with thee will go forever.

And oft at midnight's silent hour,
when brilliant planets shall guide the ocean,
thy name will rise to heaven's highest star,
and mingle with my soul's devotion.

(sorry I don't have the poet's name)

0000000000000000000000000000000000000000000000000


GETHSEMANE
Ella Wheeler Wilcox

IN golden youth when seems the earth
A Summer-land of singing mirth,
When souls are glad and hearts are light,
And not a shadow lurks in sight,
We do not know it, but there lies
Somewhere veiled under evening skies
A garden which we all must see —
The garden of Gethsemane.



With joyous steps we go our ways,
Love lends a halo to our days;
Light sorrows sail like clouds afar,
We laugh, and say how strong we are.
We hurry on; and hurrying, go
Close to the border-land of woe,
That waits for you, and waits for me —
Forever waits Gethsemane.



Down shadowy lanes, across strange streams,
Bridged over by our broken dreams;
Behind the misty caps of years,
Beyond the great salt fount of tears,
The garden lies. Strive as you may,
You cannot miss it in your way.
All paths that have been, or shall be,
Pass somewhere through Gethsemane.



All those who journey, soon or late,
Must pass within the garden's gate;
Must kneel alone in darkness there,
And battle with some fierce despair.
God pity those who can not say,
"Not mine but thine," who only pray,
"Let this cup pass," and cannot see
The purpose in Gethsemane.


ooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooo




9-11

Purple clouds rush over us and dank chill
Red October winds oppress a world
Which only yesterday hummed with summer;
Today the tube shows only the broken, jagged, teeth of Empire
jetting upwards through ghostly smoke and debris
as from a skull


Bewildered firemen creep through the hollowed sockets
From which no-thing stares
Skinless bone of fingers scrape the coffin dome
of uncertain skies
with crooked necrotic nails
of last minute's terror


Beneath smolder multitudes,
the shades of Sheol
Blue with death
Who just that morning
Made their eggs and bagels
And kissed goodbye their other
And worried only water cooler worries...


On the other side of a world
They make for the borders
Tens of thousands wrapped in blankets,
Dirt bucket poor
On donkeys, and on foot, like Joseph and Mary
Nomads in a time forgotten, but there, now
To escape the fiery Apocalypse
Which falls like Hell itself
in flaming Smart-shelled nightmares
Which their mothers never taught them,
Like some horror or fiction which even devils
of themselves cannot conceive
or can they?

I lift my lantern with trembling hand to look for hope
And seek some salve to ease the aching of my heart
Which throbs in pain for all,
Even for the perpetrators,
On both sides,
Who have no doubt,
Who are not capable of doubting
Or spitting back the milk they suckled
At a mothers paps


Jesus! Crucified! Man of Sorrows!
Rejected and left to hungry crows
On bitter wood!
Weep for Jerusalem again
And for us all
For we are still in deepest troubles
And Rachel is still heard wailing
For her children
And she---we---cannot be comforted!


---Stephen Hand

ooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooo

Holy Sonnet X
John Donne
Death be not proud, though some have called thee
Mighty and dreadfull, for, thou art not soe,
For, those, whom thou think'st, thou dost overthrow,
Die not, poore death, nor yet canst thou kill mee;
From rest and sleepe, which but thy pictures bee,
Much pleasure, then from thee, much more must flow,
And soonest our best men with thee doe goe,
Rest of their bones, and soules deliverie.
Thou'art slave to Fate, chance, kings, and desperate men,
And dost with poyson, warre, and sicknesse dwell,
And poppie,' or charmes can make us sleepe as well,
And better then they stroake; why swell'st thou then?
One short sleepe past, wee wake eternally,
And death shall be no more, Death thou shalt die.

[Victoria Delsoul]

Thanks so much for the pings.

Bump.

[Wild Thing]

Bentfeather this is so special what you created, so beautiful!!!!!
You are so very talented!! And what a perfect post for a special lady too.

Wild Thing

[Wild Thing]

Old Sarge what you wrote is how we felt too.I had been out riding my bicycle early that morning and got home and my husband was furious and also he did have tears in his eyes, BUT not tears of saddness as much as anger and rage.

We waited to hear from my Uncles son, my cousin one of the firefighters. He was safe but he lost 11 of his friends and two of his Chiefs in the stairway that day .

I will NEVER stop being outraged and never stop wanting to seek out the terrorists and get everyone of them. They worship death and I am all for giving it to them.

Wild Thing

[Cindy]

SEPTEMBER 11, 2001: "ATTACK ON AMERICA!" (Updated Daily)
http://www.truthusa.com/911.html

[HiJinx]

The following was written by FReeper BlueLancer shortly after 9/11. I added the images after Afghanistan began:

Now let's hunt these bastards down where ever they hide and exterminate them. No negotiations, No reasoning, No prisoners. Just dead.

"200 years from now, I want their children's children's children's children to cower and cringe in fear whenever they hear the sounds of jet engines overhead because their legends tell of fire from the sky.

I want them to hide in dark caves and holes in the earth, shivering with terror whenever they hear the roar of diesel engines because the tales of their ancestors talk about metal monsters crawling over the earth, spitting death and destruction.

I want their mothers to be able to admonish them with "If you don't behave, the Pale Destroyers will come for you", and that will be enough to reduce them to quivering obesience.

I want the annihilation to be so complete that their mythology will tell them of the day of judgment when the stern gods from across the sea .. the powerful 'Mericans .. destroyed their forefathers' wickedness."

[fatima]

Bump.

[Old Sarge]

I'm all for those, Jinx. To become immortal, in myth and legend. Let us be the stuff of legends of dread.

[Orion78]

September 11: One year viewed from Space. Courtesy of Space Imaging.com

[nutmeg]

A liberal colleague said to me, "This sentimentality is waaaay overdone. I'm going to go to a movie that day."

OMG...

[nutmeg]

Thank you so much for starting this amazing thread.

NEVER FORGET bump...

[GOPJ]

I'll never forget!

[nutmeg]

NEVER FORGET

Please FReepmail me if you want on or off my infrequent ‘miscellaneous’ ping list.

[Wild Thing]

Fabulous Music dedication MoJo! WoW!

Wild Thing

[nutmeg]

(Rare non-Fox News ping)

Please FReepmail me if you want on or off my FoxFan list. *Warning: This can be a high-volume ping list at times.

[PFKEY]

Remember. Reflect. Revenge.

Having not lost a loved one this is probably easier to say than if I had but lets not do or wish evil even on our enemies.

Rom.12
[19] Dearly beloved, avenge not yourselves, but rather give place unto wrath: for it is written, Vengeance is mine; I will repay, saith the Lord.

[nutmeg]

Please Freepmail me if you want on or off my infrequent Connecticut ping list.