Virgil

That movie World Trade Center was on yesterday and I watched it. I remember that day - hardly anyone went to class - I went because I didn't want to stay home. My mom called and asked "what's going on?"

I remember watching the news coverage of it from New York City. One reporter was talking about all the paper that was falling from the towers and she held a piece of paper up to the camera and was talking about all the paper and my dad goes "Aw, get her off - someone pull the plug on her." Shortly thereafter, they cut to some other coverage.

We went to a prayer service that day. I can't imagine what it would have been like to live there, or to have to sleep in the car because of it.

Hi Virgil - it's a good poem, excellent actually. I have not commented on the forum as I'm finding it difficult not to slip into political commentary, and run the risk of offending people. It was a horrific act, and there's no getting away from that, but horrific acts have gone on before, have gone on since, and are still going on. And there I go, so I'm stopping myself. It's a fine poem Virgil, and a worthy winner.

Thanks Fifth. I didn't think I had anything political in the poem. In fact i purged two lines from an earlier draft that, while not overtly political, could have been construed as touching on the politics.

Shalot, it was a day that one can never forget. I was going to put this in the thread granny had started on where one was on Sept 11th, but for some reason it got merged and i don't quite know why into a thread i had started last year on commemorating the day. And so I don't quite know how appropriate where it is for me to say where I was on that day. So I'll say it here. I was on a business trip down in Maryland, about a three hour drive from home. It was such a beautiful morning and I enjoy an early morning drive, and i remember it being particualry pleasurable. I remember sitting in a meeting that morning, and that too went well. For some reason there wasn't much disputing. When the meeting breaks up and I walk out into the hall, I see another fellow who works there who was not in the meeting. His face was ashen pale and i asked him what was wrong, and his first words were, "you're not going to believe this." Then he said that two planes had crashed into the Twin Towers and that another plane had crashed into the Pentagon, and I just squished my face into a confused look and then just laughed with a "get atta here." And he didn't laugh back, and said I know you won't believe me but it did happen. His next actual words were "We're at war," and I think this was way before anyone comprehended the notion that what had happened was an act of war. He told me to go to a radio and find out for myself because that would be the only way to believe it. And that was true, no actual words by anyone could have convinced me that it was true. So me and another engineer, a lady engineer who worked with me, went outside to my car and there was Peter Jennings narrating what was going on at ground zero and bodies falling from the top and the confusion across the country. We just looked at each other and saidf "Oh my God" and then I had goose pimples all over my body. And those goose pimples would come back over and over all day. Well, the people at the place we were visiting pretty much went home and all the travelers, and there was number of us from across the country, gathered at a Burger King and talked over our plans. Some of them wound up driving across the country to get home. I decided to check out and head home as soon as I could and I raced up Rt 95 and got to outside the city in like two hours. I can imagine how fast I was going, but there was no one on the highway, on one. It was eerie. Again goose pimples the whole ride up. When I got to the Bridge into the city it was all shut down except if you were emergency personnel. I even tried to lie that I was but the police wouldn't let me through. All the hotels in the area, even the hourly rate ones, were all booked up. nothing. I had to spend the night in my car, never even having seen an image or video of what had happened. I tried calling people, but phone lines were down. It was an eerie night, without sleep and no radio. The next day the world had changed.

You know, lit-net spared you, as I spent some time this afternoon explaining my earlier post. Needless to say I can't reconstruct it, but that the emphasis was on the fact that it would be me being political - it was not a criticism in any way of your poem which clearly, and very beautifully, describes an intense personal experience for you.