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September 11, 2001 – Two outstanding memoirs

Here are two outstanding remembrances from that awful day.

“September 10, 2001: ‘Make no mistake, it’s not revenge he’s after. It’s a reckoning'” by Gerard Van der Leun on the day before September 11.

[…] Now over a decade and a half has passed, “a low dishonest decade,” since the day after September 10 and the thing that looked like a man, the monster that set the events of the 11th in motion, has been expunged from the Book of Life. Too easily and too quickly for my tastes but my tastes in these matters are rooted in Scots’ blood, and that blood demands punishments too severe to write down here or to hold in the mind for long.

Some would say that Bin Laden’s death with a bullet to the brain and then the use of the body as food for crabs and worms on the bottom of the ocean means “Debt paid” and “War over” and “Victory.” Let that be to them as it will be, but my blood says that it is not paid, not over and not a victory.

My blood says that all of those in his line need to be expunged, and that all of those who emulate and revere his manner of thinking need to be expunged, and all of those in his part of the gene pool need to be drained away and destroyed, root and branch. My blood says, “Carthago delenda est.”

From what little I know of history, what little I know of our enemies, I know in the marrow of my bones that there will come a terrible day in which that final judgment will be rendered and that final act shall be done. And as it was on the day after September 10, I remain relentlessly for this reckoning; a reckoning that is still to come, but like September 11 itself, certain to arrive.

I couldn’t agree more…

And here’s a remarkable memoir (“15 Years? Really?”) from a gentleman who was on the 51st of WTC2 when the first plane hit, written on the 15th anniversary.

[…] It’s almost impossible to describe that sound. When you think of a crash, you think of a cacophony of shattering and twisting noises. A noise that hearts your ears with it’s pitch. But when you’re in side one of the objects in the crash, the experience is much different, almost inverted in a way. There was a resounding crunch almost too deep to be heard. It reminded me very much of the sound of a car crash from within one of the cars. A much more rounded sound.

It was a deep feeling as well. Most of that was likely due to the fact that I was on the 51st floor of the building.

At the time I thought it was a strangely strong lightning strike. As such I was completely calm and settled about the whole affair. Indeed I was excited, having a great fondness for a good electrical storm.

It was a few seconds before the “oh my god’s” started coming from all over the office. I looked up from my desk in time to see what appeared to be debris of some sort falling past the window. It was a sunny morning and the debris sparkled as it fell. The mind does some wonderful things while it’s trying to sort stimuli into proper order. The glass fell past the window in a cloud of sparkles, reflecting the morning light. It looked for all the world like someone had dumped a truckload of fairy dust off the roof of the building. It felt like long seconds, trying to process what it could possibly have been, before realizing what had happened. Of all moments of the morning, that makes me smile. It was certainly one of the loveliest things I’d ever seen. […]

About The Universal Spectator

An irritable, but lovable, constitutional conservative who loathes and detests collectivists and statists of all persuasions and parties...

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