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johnpalmerSeptember 11, 1966. John David Palmer is born to Dorothy Palmer in Philadelphia.
September 11, 2001. Thousands of people are brutally murdered.
I feel bad because the fact that it happened on my birthday just keeps having 'meaning' for me. And, I guess that's because thousands of people dying is so impossible for me to grasp.
Each person... that has meaning. Liam possibly dead, possibly unconscious, certainly incommunicado, that's 'real'. The tearful people talking about their loved ones, that's real. But real+real+real+real... +real, thousands of times over, I guess it's like radio... too much information becomes 'noise'.
It's the police and firefighters that broke me.
A long time ago, on a BBS called Heartland, I was in chat, and I berated this guy for joking about firemen. "Have you ever seen a fireman run into a burning building, knowing it's a tossup if he'll survive, just because someone *MIGHT* be inside?"
I felt a bit stupid later... the other two folks in chat were a police officer, and a fire fighter. The fire fighter explained that there was good natured ribbing between the two professions. The police officer simply answered my question... yes, he had seen such a sight. He didn't say more, and as the rest was explained, he didn't need to.
Still, it was one of the prouder stupid moments in my life.
That issue resonates perfectly within me, and if I believed in Fate, or what I may have heard called a "wyrd", it'd prove that I was destined to face death, doing what gave meaning to my life, and that I was being prepped to do so. But it might be something else.
I want, so much, to believe that there's something more than just the meat-machine life. And, walking into death's jaws, seeing death's teeth, and knowing when the jaws close, they will snap shut before you know it (though the chewing may be slow and prolonged), that seems to be the ultimate expression of that.
The story of Jesus resonates so stongly for that reason, as well. Do you realize how much of what he said comes down to "there's something more important than this world"? Sell all you have, and give money to the poor; there's more important stuff to do than deal with possessions! And he stood by that belief, and showed that there *WAS* more than just this life.
Anyway. Like I said, the fire fighters, the police officers... they broke me. But then, soon, they started talking about the individuals. That would have done it. That would have made it real.
It was weird, because I woke up at 4 pm. "The twin towers were destroyed and a large section of the Pentagon blown up". Okay... two big, expensive buildings gone, one badly damaged. Chris was crying... but it still wasn't real.
I don't know why my brain didn't jump to "John, there are probably hundreds of people in those buildings *AT MIDNIGHT*, just cleaning offices and so forth. Ten people per floor is over 2 *THOUSAND* people, in the twin towers alone!"
A call had been made saying that one of my friends, who I never would have known was in danger, was safe. Well, of course... it was buildings that were destroyed, not people, right?
I didn't know what to do... and then, I guess fifteen minutes later, I heard about the missing firefighters and police officers and it hit me.
Damn it all.
I tell myself, over and over, that the reason my birthday and this event are linked in my mind is just that I was minding the date already. And, it's true... but it still feels dirty, like I *CARE* about a ruined birthday when people have been murdered.
But I guess that's just part of the feeling of unreality that, even now, still seems to surround this event for me.
September 11, 2001. Thousands of people are brutally murdered.
I feel bad because the fact that it happened on my birthday just keeps having 'meaning' for me. And, I guess that's because thousands of people dying is so impossible for me to grasp.
Each person... that has meaning. Liam possibly dead, possibly unconscious, certainly incommunicado, that's 'real'. The tearful people talking about their loved ones, that's real. But real+real+real+real... +real, thousands of times over, I guess it's like radio... too much information becomes 'noise'.
It's the police and firefighters that broke me.
A long time ago, on a BBS called Heartland, I was in chat, and I berated this guy for joking about firemen. "Have you ever seen a fireman run into a burning building, knowing it's a tossup if he'll survive, just because someone *MIGHT* be inside?"
I felt a bit stupid later... the other two folks in chat were a police officer, and a fire fighter. The fire fighter explained that there was good natured ribbing between the two professions. The police officer simply answered my question... yes, he had seen such a sight. He didn't say more, and as the rest was explained, he didn't need to.
Still, it was one of the prouder stupid moments in my life.
That issue resonates perfectly within me, and if I believed in Fate, or what I may have heard called a "wyrd", it'd prove that I was destined to face death, doing what gave meaning to my life, and that I was being prepped to do so. But it might be something else.
I want, so much, to believe that there's something more than just the meat-machine life. And, walking into death's jaws, seeing death's teeth, and knowing when the jaws close, they will snap shut before you know it (though the chewing may be slow and prolonged), that seems to be the ultimate expression of that.
The story of Jesus resonates so stongly for that reason, as well. Do you realize how much of what he said comes down to "there's something more important than this world"? Sell all you have, and give money to the poor; there's more important stuff to do than deal with possessions! And he stood by that belief, and showed that there *WAS* more than just this life.
Anyway. Like I said, the fire fighters, the police officers... they broke me. But then, soon, they started talking about the individuals. That would have done it. That would have made it real.
It was weird, because I woke up at 4 pm. "The twin towers were destroyed and a large section of the Pentagon blown up". Okay... two big, expensive buildings gone, one badly damaged. Chris was crying... but it still wasn't real.
I don't know why my brain didn't jump to "John, there are probably hundreds of people in those buildings *AT MIDNIGHT*, just cleaning offices and so forth. Ten people per floor is over 2 *THOUSAND* people, in the twin towers alone!"
A call had been made saying that one of my friends, who I never would have known was in danger, was safe. Well, of course... it was buildings that were destroyed, not people, right?
I didn't know what to do... and then, I guess fifteen minutes later, I heard about the missing firefighters and police officers and it hit me.
Damn it all.
I tell myself, over and over, that the reason my birthday and this event are linked in my mind is just that I was minding the date already. And, it's true... but it still feels dirty, like I *CARE* about a ruined birthday when people have been murdered.
But I guess that's just part of the feeling of unreality that, even now, still seems to surround this event for me.
