09.11.2001

It is personal. It is traumatic. While some of lost dear loved ones, others simply remained permanently scarred, to never heal. It is 09.11...one of the defining moments in history which, oddly enough, defies description.

Travelling far and wide, we all have our stories. We all felt the pain. We still do. It is far too surreal not to.

I started off the morning of 09.11 readying myself to go to work. I stood in my bathroom at the Crap House wondering whatever happened with the Chandra Levy case. Would Gary Condit ever get his due? The commute to work was uneventful. I do not even remember our grizzly production meeting. I remember my friend Russ, stopping by my office, propping himself between the door jambs and telling me about a freakish accident with a plane and one of the towers at the World Trade Center. I immediately tried to access CNN. I couldn't.

A flurry of activity rushed through the office as we scrambled to find one computer with access to CNN. If I recall correctly, there was only one. We stood, eerily silent, staring at the screen.

It is rare when a manufacturing plant grinds to a halt. One of the engineers fashioned an antenna from some scrap metal for our sole television in the building. The assembly line slowly filtered into the common room. Not a word was uttered.

I remember hearing about the Pentagon. I remember hearing about Flight 93. I remember watching the towers crumble like a house of cards. I remember hearing nothing.

My lunch pals, Jen, Glenn, Randy and I headed up to a local diner. Normally abuzz with chatter, there was yet, another, eerie silence over the room. Not even a peep from the kitchen. This silence lingered throughout the day, briefly interrupted by the ringing of a phone...trying to contact loved ones...regardless of locale. My sister lives in Falls Church, VA. Her husband works near the White House at the St Regis.

That evening, after doing nothing all day at work except staring off into space and smoking far too many cigarettes, I sat in the living room on the shitty sofa. I was fixed to the television. Dock was working and I was alone. I was so scared, so frightened, so overwhelmed, I had turned on every light in the house. I still do not know why. I remained that way for about a week.

I am blessed, having lost no one, not having to endure the grief of searching and aching for a relative or a friend. My suffering is limited. Yet it is real. I will never forget any of this, so etched in my mind like acid on glass. I have been profoundly, deeply altered. We all have.

Today is the day where your nationality does not matter. Today is the day where we, as humanity, mourn, pray, do whatever it is we need to do to cope.

I do not consider myself to be religious, holy, pious, G-d fearing. I have my faith. It is personal. My only way of conveying my feelings is by posting the Mourner's Kaddish. It is all that one needs to say.

Exalted and hallowed be His great Name. (Congregation responds: "Amen.")

Throughout the world which He has created according to His Will. May He establish His kingship, bring forth His redemption and hasten the coming of His Moshiach. (Cong: "Amen.")

In your lifetime and in your days and in the lifetime of the entire House of Israel, sword, famine and death shall cease from us and from the entire Jewish nation, speedily and soon, and say, Amen.

(Cong: "Amen. May His great Name be blessed forever and to all eternity, blessed.")

May His great Name be blessed forever and to all eternity. Blessed and praised, glorified, exalted and extolled, honored, adored and lauded be the Name of the Holy One, blessed be He. (Cong: "Amen.")

Beyond all the blessings, hymns, praises and consolations that are uttered in the world; and say, Amen. (Cong: "Amen.")

May there be abundant peace from heaven, and a good life for us and for all Israel; and say, Amen. (Cong: "Amen.")

He Who makes peace in His heavens, may He make peace for us and for all Israel; and say, Amen. (Cong: "Amen.")