shape
carat
color
clarity

in commemoration

My heart is always filled with sorrow on this day. While I wasn't personally impacted (as in the loss of family or friends) that very day, the events of that day would change the course of my life and my children's lives forever.

I mourn for those that lost their lives on 9-11, and grieve with their families and friends. And I mourn for the freedom our great nation lost that day.

And then my heart weeps for the families and friends of all service members (US and Allied Forces), who answered the call to fight and who made the ultimate sacrifice in Afghanistan and Iraq, to include my own family.

May we never forget the innocent victims of 9-11 and the heroes that selflessly sacrificed.
 
My heart is filled with sorrow as well. A day we will never forget. Our thoughts and prayers with all those whose lives were forever changed. A senseless tragedy caused by people whose hearts are filled with hate and evil and who have no regard for life.

Thank you to all the heroes that day and everyday who sacrifice their well being and their lives to help others. Thank you to all the brave people who rushed to help that day and every day after. People who show that we will never let evil conquer or destroy our freedom and peace of mind. We will not let terror or evil win. And to that end we will never forget.
 
Thank you for starting this thread, Molly. I was on-line participating in discussion in a diamond group when I learned of the first attack. A jeweler from Mexico, who was also a pilot, knew that the first attack was not an accident and said so. My husband's office was a couple of blocks from Ground Zero, but he was on a one-day retreat in Massachusetts that day with other bankers. It was I who notified all of them by telephone of what had occurred. They were isolated in a rural place. A man from New jersey ended up at our house that night borrowing a shirt from my husband and wondering if he could get home because so many bridges were out. The men just wanted to get into their offices, but of course they could not. No one could get into Manhattan and The National Guard kept them out of their offices. Many parents of children at my daughter's school worked in lower Manhattan, but miraculously her school lost no one that day. Our town certainly did, though.

Here is a link to the thread Karl posts every year...https://www.pricescope.com/community/threads/9-11-never-forget.165515/
 
Thank you for starting this thread, Molly. * * * Here is a link to the thread Karl posts every year...https://www.pricescope.com/community/threads/9-11-never-forget.165515/
Thank you so much, Deb, for providing the link to @Karl_K 's Never Forget thread, a lovely PS tradition. When his thread wasn't at/near the top of the Hangout board this morning when I awakened, I didn't think much about it. I then became increasingly concerned that he was gravely sick or otherwise incapacitated; yet, I wanted to defer to him in the reviving of his thread. I'm happy to see (upon logging back in just now, on my very delayed lunch break) he drew it to our attention mid-morning & my concerns were unfounded.
 
All the lives lost and all the lives that were forever changed. It’s a sad day no matter how many years have passed.
 
Oh, I like that!

(Would love to see-hear an extended video with no voice-over, but all that seems to be on YouTube so far are news clips with reporters talking.)
I want to hear it without commentary as well. I love tuned windchimes and have quite a few.
 
I love tuned windchimes and have quite a few.
Oh I envy you. My NYC apartment has a terrace where I could hang windchimes, but I doubt my neighbors would appreciate that.

Speaking of chimes, Martin Espada evocatively used chime-chime in his Alabanza, one of my very favorite 9/11 poems:

Alabanza: In Praise of Local 100

for the 43 members of Hotel Employees and Restaurant Employees Local l00, working at the Windows on the World restaurant, who lost their lives in the attack on the World Trade Center

Alabanza. Praise the cook with a shaven head
and a tattoo on his shoulder that said Oye,
a blue-eyed Puerto Rican with people from Fajardo,
the harbor of pirates centuries ago.
Praise the lighthouse in Fajardo, candle
glimmering white to worship the dark saint of the sea.
Alabanza. Praise the cook’s yellow Pirates cap
worn in the name of Roberto Clemente, his plane
that flamed into the ocean loaded with cans for Nicaragua,
for all the mouths chewing the ash of earthquakes.
Alabanza. Praise the kitchen radio, dial clicked
even before the dial on the oven, so that music and Spanish
rose before bread. Praise the bread. Alabanza.

Praise Manhattan from a hundred and seven flights up,
like Atlantis glimpsed through the windows of an ancient aquarium.
Praise the great windows where immigrants from the kitchen
could squint and almost see their world, hear the chant of nations:
Ecuador, México, Republica Dominicana,
Haiti, Yemen, Ghana, Bangladesh.
Alabanza.
Praise the kitchen in the morning,
where the gas burned blue on every stove
and exhaust fans fired their diminutive propellers,
hands cracked eggs with quick thumbs
or sliced open cartons to build an altar of cans.
Alabanza. Praise the busboy’s music, the chime-chime
of his dishes and silverware in the tub.

Alabanza. Praise the dish-dog, the dishwasher
who worked that morning because another dishwasher
could not stop coughing, or because he needed overtime
to pile the sacks of rice and beans for a family
floating away on some Caribbean island plagued by frogs.
Alabanza. Praise the waitress who heard the radio in the kitchen
and sang to herself about a man gone. Alabanza.

After the thunder wilder than thunder,
after the shudder deep in the glass of the great windows,
after the radio stopped singing like a tree full of terrified frogs,
after night burst the dam of day and flooded the kitchen,
for a time the stoves glowed in darkness like the lighthouse in Fajardo,
like a cook’s soul. Soul I say, even if the dead cannot tell us
about the bristles of God’s beard because God has no face,
soul I say, to name the smoke-beings flung in constellations
across the night sky of this city and cities to come.
Alabanza I say, even if God has no face.

Alabanza. When the war began, from Manhattan and Kabul
two constellations of smoke rose and drifted to each other,
mingling in icy air, and one said with an Afghan tongue:
Teach me to dance. We have no music here.
And the other said with a Spanish tongue:
I will teach you. Music is all we have.

Martín Espada, “Alabanza: In Praise of Local 100” [© 2003 by Martín Espada] from New and Selected Poems (W.W. Norton & Company, Inc. 2003).
 
Never Forget!!!!
Thank you for posting this MM.
I am glad that you posted this when you did.
It is a lovely tribute!!!!
 
There is a video clip off utube with images set to “Sounds of Silence” by Disturbed.
I remember that day so well, here in Australia.
Middle of the night nursing a very sick and whiny baby, exhausted, stressed, watching TV comforting her.
And the news flash came on and I just felt complete shock. I woke my husband up, he had just done “his shift with sick baby”.
We both sat in total silence, all our troubles evaporated, watching in complete disbelief.
17 years ago, so so far away, no one I know affected directly or even indirectly and I still weep afresh every time I see or think of that day.
So much loss, so much sorrow.
 
Chills
 
Thank you, Molly.sad :((
 
@Bron357 and @Sandeek -- it was a shock to see a woman I know at 24 seconds into the video Sandeek posted which uses Disturbed's version of The Sounds of Silence as the soundtrack. I mean, I know her husband died on 9/11, but I don't think I've previously seen that photo of her weeping by the Memorial Pool; the raw grief is etched on her face.

Thank you, Molly.sad :((
Thank you, ds. Yesterday was much harder on me than I was expecting, felt a more pronounced sense of loss than last year. In large part because of one of my dearest friends died recently, and it was she who preserved my sanity on 9/11 during the long hours when I didn't know if my son was dead or alive. So every 9/11, until this year, I've sent her a card/note of appreciation for her wonderful support & good company that day.
 
Oh, that is so sad, Molly. I am very sorry to hear of the loss of your friend. I can't even imagine the horror of not reaching loved ones that day.
 
I’m so sorry Molly, hugs to you.
 
Living where I do, it was everywhere. Everyone knew someone who lost a family member. My neighbor across the way was in the 2nd tower. He left after the plane hit the first tower, even though the announcement advised people to go back to their offices. It just felt wrong to him. Had he stayed, he'd be gone. My children had friends who lost parents. A really horrible, tragic day. Life is so fragile.
 
Oh, Molly, you have been through too much. I am sorry you lost your dear friend now, too.

Hugs,
(((Molly)))
Deb
 
I'm so sorry for your loss Molly, and the losses of all those who said goodbye to loved ones in the aftermath of that horrible day :(sad

I was in MD that day. I will never forget. I couldn't if I tried - but I wouldn't want to.
 
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