<HTML>  I still find it hard to believe what happened. A lot of good people died yesterday - some of them friends, some strangers - all died at the hands of monsters. This is my small attempt to honor and cope with the shock.  Christian Okane ****************** 12 September 2001                        That terrible silence                        ---------------------------  It is a simple structure that stood 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 COMPANY 1". 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.   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.   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.   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.   That dreadful silence.    In memory of the men of Rescue Company 1 and to all the brave souls who died on September 11, 2001.   Rest in peace, you will not be forgotten.   ***</HTML>