“sick twisted bastard” – no – the jihadist and whoever was behind them were/are the sick twisted bastards.
I was sleeping what was probably the last innocent sleep of my life. The phone rang, a sister from Texas, hysterical, turn on the TV! I sat there for five minutes before I watched the second tower come down. I ran to the bathroom where husband was showering and as calmly as possible told him what was going on. He had just broken his ankle a week before and was basically immobile, could not get out with any speed but he denied what I was saying could be true.
Back in front of the TV – by myself – I wept and rocked, sometimes just wailing. The transformation from what was a possible accident to being absolutely positive we were under attack when I saw the second building hit was very fast and the level of anger I moved to emotionally has never left my psyche.
Sorrow, oh hell yeah to this day I feel the sorrow – but the anger and rage will dominate until I die which explains much of my animus towards “our” jihadist-in-chief. He bides. The dude (fuc***) abides. But not much longer I suspect.
I remember exactly where I was like it was yesterday. I was at work and I was working with a guy named Joe off of a service truck. We were at Joe Miller’s house repairing irrigation valves in his front yard. We were both covered in mud and dirt when Joe, the home owner, emerged from the house. He walked over to where we were working and told us that we had to come inside and see what was happening on the television. We were at first hesitant because of the mud, but he insisted that we come inside.
He had a big plasma TV on the wall and as we watched they showed footage of the second plane slamming into the towers. We stared in awe at the footage for about 15 minutes until it was interrupted by a new report. Rueters said that the Pentagon had been attacked…
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