[This is a blog post I wrote for MySpace on 3/19/2008 3:58:00 PM. To see the story behind why this is here and for links to the rest of the posts, check out the main MySpace page here on Anita’s Notebook.]

Somebody wrote something in the comment section of the Last Tears video that really got me thinking:

I went to Ground Zero in December of that year. I never thought that I would hear the echo of thousands of souls crying out to me in anguish. I was diminished on that day. They were just doing what I do every morning. Going to work. Maybe to make themselves able to live out their dreams. They were just doing what I, what WE, do every day. And now they’re gone. We can’t forget. We must remain grateful for every day of freedom. Obama, Hillary or McCain, no matter. Freedom MUST reign.

I’m thinking about that day in Fairbanks, the day before my birthday. By the time I woke up the attacks had already happened. I always got ready for work with the radio on, hoping that it would drag my mind out of the fog. The DJ said that a plane had crashed into the World Trade Center. I was imagining it as one of those little privately owned planes. But his voice had a sense of fear in it that didn’t fit with that. Something has happened. Please tune in to our sister station (AM something or another) for more information.

I worked in the housekeeping department of a local hotel and all of us housekeepers spent every moment we could spare glued to the little black and white tv in the break room. Stunned, horrified, we mostly just sat silently as they played and replayed the planes slicing into the towers. The noise of that has stuck with me. Big clouds of exploding jet fuel and people jumping out of windows on the higher floors. Two people held hands as they jumped. Were they co-workers? Were they lovers? Or was today the first time they’d ever met? Their family would never know that they didn’t die alone.

The networks ran into the ground every scrap of footage they could get a hold of. News personalities and pundits found a million different ways to say ’we don’t know what happened’. And the Bush Administration organized themselves to do what they do best.

At our house we moved the tv from it’s place of neglect out to the living room. Sitting in front of it for hours on uncomfortable chairs we tried to work out clues and answers from the news. But how do you make sense out of a senseless situation? There was footage of people in a far off arab-looking country celebrating the attacks with an improvised parade and throwing candy into happy crowds. And every time someone on tv would raise their voice in a certain way we’d all freeze because maybe something else has happened. Would there be more attacks, and where would they be?

It’s weird to look back on it now in light of everything that’s happened since. We were all feeling the same that day. But after the shock wore off things got more complicated. People’s emotions evolved over time and with different influences. Unity, vengeance, peace, war. It’s amazing to see people who seem so similar on the surface have radically different reactions to something. And the consequences of that.

I guess I don’t really have an ending to this blog. It’s just what’s on my mind right now as I’m sitting here in the living room and taking care of some things on the computer. Yeah.