<div style="color:black;font: 10pt arial;">Has it been <font size="2">so many</font> years? I still find it hard to believe. I think many
people do. I still cannot understand why people commit such evil upon
each other. I think I never will.<br>
<br>
<div> I have many memories of that
day. I remember staring in disbelief at the tv screen. I remember
standing on my front lawn and clearly seeing the smoke from the fires. I
remember all my friends online trying to contact me to be sure I was
still alive<font size="2">."Chris - are you still alive?"<br>
</font></div>
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<div> I remember the large funerals at the cemetery not 3 miles
from where I sit and write this now. There were a lot of funerals that
fall, many with an empty casket. I think of that day and an anger still
fills me.</div>
<br>
<br>
In memory of all those who went out and will never be coming back.<font size="2"> We remember you still.</font><br>
<br>
<br>
Christian Okane<br>
<br>
<br>
**************<br>
<br>
That terrible silence<br>
---------------------------<br>
<br>
It's
a simple structure that stands across the street from my apartment. Two
stories tall and made of deep, red brick and gray stone. Two wide roll
up garage doors stood below a sign that proudly read "RESCUE".<br>
<br>
Two engines had called that place home, polished and cleaned by proud
firemen. I can still picture their faces now, smiling, laughing,
talking, cleaning or repairing something. I even watched with amusement
as a television crew filmed this company of New York's bravest. These
firemen were famous, they always seemed to be rescuing people from
crumbling buildings, collapsed scaffolding or swimming into a sunken
boat to rescue a trapped crewman. They were called the bravest of the
brave.<br>
<br>
I had long ago lost my amazement at what they did. All I
knew was that I always seemed to be jolted awake at the most foul hours
by screaming horns and wailing sirens as red and blue lights danced
across my ceiling. Driving away all hopes of sleep. Now that it's gone I
miss it so.<br>
<br>
Now I stand at my window looking at the people
who lay flowers and wreaths where the engines once rested. Where I had
stood countless times talking and chatting with the firemen. Brave souls
who had gone out and will never come back.<br>
<br>
Sometimes even now
I wake up in the middle of the night hoping, praying to hear the wail
of sirens and the scream of the horns. Instead all I hear is that
silence.<br>
<br>
That terrible silence.
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