[Mkguild] Remembering 9-11

[cokane8116 at aol.com]

Time seems  to have flown by. I still find it hard to believe. I think many people do. I stillcannot understand why people commit such evil upon each other. I think I neverwill.    I have many memories of that day. I rememberstaring in disbelief at the tv screen. I remember standing on my front lawn andclearly seeing the smoke from the fires. I remember all my friends onlinetrying to contact me to be sure I was still alive. I remember the largefunerals at the cemetery not 3 miles from where I sit and write this now. Therewere a lot of funerals that fall, many with an empty casket.     In memory of all those who went out and willnever be coming back.     Christian Okane  **************                             That terrible silence                        ---------------------------   It's a simple structure that stands acrossthe street from my apartment. Two stories tall and made of deep, red brick andgray stone. Two wide roll up garage doors stood below a sign that proudly read"RESCUE 1".  Two engines had called that place home,polished and cleaned by proudfiremen. I can still picturetheir faces now, smiling, laughing, talking, cleaning or repairing something. Ieven watched with amusement as a television crew filmed this company of New York'sbravest. These firemen were famous, they always seemed to be rescuing peoplefrom crumbling buildings, collapsed scaffolding or swimming into a sunken boatto rescue a trapped crewman. They were called the bravest of the brave.    I had long ago lost my amazement at whatthey did. All I knew was that I always seemed to be jolted awake at the mostfoul hours by screaming horns and wailing sirens as red and blue lights dancedacross my ceiling. Driving away all hopes of sleep. Now that it's gone I missit so.    Now I stand at my window looking at thepeople who lay flowers andwreaths where the enginesonce rested. Where I had stood countless times talking and chatting with thefiremen. Brave souls who had gone out and will never come back.    Sometimes even now I wake up in the middleof the night hoping, praying to hear the wail of sirens and the scream of thehorns. Instead all I hear is that silence.    That terrible silence.   
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