9-5-01 Well, some sad news and some good news in September. Netigy, who I've been employed by for the past 2 years, folded this month in a really ugly way. The good news is, I've started a company as an independent consultant. Lots of thrills ahead, for sure!!
September 11, woah! looks like we're going to war soon with someone. Here's an account from a friend who was in NY:
I work in downtown Manhattan. I was on the 60th floor of a building adjacent to the WTC building for an all hands company meeting. I was able to see the first WTC building burning. I was a terrible thing to see. I did not know the reason for the crash. Then from the north a commercial airplane flies in and veers slightly hitting the second WTC building. I thought it was a dream. I shouted "Did anyone else see that!!! Am I dreaming!" The plane disintegrated upon impact and the second building began to burn. I will never forget seeing that as long as I live. It is in my permanent memory forever. I began to weep. I was crushed by the loss of live. I still get choked up when I hit rewind in my mind and relive the tragedy. The meeting was cancelled and we walked done 60 flights of stairs to the
street. I grabbed a woman who going to pass out and help her down about 30 flights. I walked back to my building on the west side about 5 blocks choked up and almost weeping and watched the news reports. The first building collapsed then the second. The streets were filled with black smoke and soot. A mass exodus started with people walking up the west side filling both side of the highway going north. I attempted to catch a ferry home but could not get far as the soot and smoke was to thick to breath and see. It finally cleared, and I was able to board a ferry home. The volunteer squads from several townships were gathered at the dock to assist people with eye washes, oxygen and medical services. I was refreshed by seeing the humanity there unselfishly giving of themselves to help.
Communities from a distance of 30 miles came to the dock to aid the folks getting off the ferry.
I very terrible day.............
More articles that were on the money:
> Widespread but only partial news coverage was given recently to a
> editorial broadcast from Toronto by Gordon Sinclair, a Canadian television
> commentator. What follows is the full text of his trenchant remarks as
> printed in the Congressional Record:
> "This Canadian thinks it is time to speak up for the Americans as the most
> generous and possibly the least appreciated people on all the earth.
> Germany, Japan and, to a lesser extent, Britain and Italy were
> lifted out of the debris of war by the Americans who poured in billions of
> dollars and forgave other billions in debts. None of these countries is
> today paying even the interest on its remaining debts to the United
> When the franc was in danger of collapsing in 1956, it was the Americans
> propped it up, and their reward was to be insulted and swindled on the
> streets of Paris. I was there. I saw it.
> When earthquakes hit distant cities, it is the United States that hurries
> to help. This spring, 59 American communities were flattened by tornadoes.
> Nobody helped.
> The Marshall Plan and the Truman Policy pumped billions of dollars into
> discouraged countries. Now newspapers in those countries are writing about
> the decadent, warmongering Americans. I'd like to see just one of those
> countries that is gloating over the erosion of the United States dollar
> build its own airplane. Does any other country in the world have a plane
> equal the Boeing Jumbo Jet, the Lockheed Tri-Star, or
> the Douglas DC10? If so, why don't they fly them? Why do all the
> International lines except Russia fly American Planes?
> Why does no other land on earth even consider putting a man or
> woman on the moon? You talk about Japanese technocracy, and you get
> You talk about German technocracy, and you get automobiles. You talk about
> American technocracy, and you find men on the moon - not once, but several
> times - and safely home again.
> You talk about scandals, and the Americans put theirs right in the store
> window for everybody to look at. Even their draft-dodgers are not pursued
> and hounded. They are here on our streets, and most of them, unless they
> breaking Canadian laws, are getting American dollars from ma and pa at
> to spend here.
> When the railways of France, Germany and India were breaking down through
> age, it was the Americans who rebuilt them. When the Pennsylvania Railroad
> and the New York Central went broke, nobody loaned them an old caboose.
> are still broke. I can name you 5000 times when the Americans raced to the
> help of other people in trouble. Can you name me even one time when
> else raced to the Americans in trouble? I don't think there was outside
> even during the San Francisco earthquake. Our neighbors have faced it
> and I'm one Canadian who is damned tired of hearing them get kicked
> They will come out of this thing with their flag high. And when they do,
> they will thumb their nose at the lands that are gloating over their
> troubles. I hope Canada is not one of those."
> Stand proud, Americans.
> By Leonard Pitts Jr. Syndicated columnist
> They pay me to tease shades of meaning from
> social and cultural issues, to
> provide words that help make sense of that
> which troubles the American
> soul. But in this moment of airless shock
> when hot tears sting disbelieving
> eyes, the only thing I can find to say, the
> only words that seem to fit, must be
> addressed to the unknown author of this
> You monster. You beast. You unspeakable
> What lesson did you hope to teach us by
> your coward's attack on our
> World Trade Center, our Pentagon, us? What
> was it you hoped we would
> learn? Whatever it was, please know that
> you failed.
> Did you want us to respect your cause? You
> just damned your cause.
> Did you want to make us fear? You just
> steeled our resolve.
> Did you want to tear us apart? You just
> brought us together.
> Let me tell you about my people. We are a
> vast and quarrelsome family, a
> family rent by racial, cultural, political
> and class division, but a family
> nonetheless. We're frivolous, yes, capable
> of expending tremendous
> emotional energy on pop cultural minutiae,
> a singer's revealing dress, a ball
> team's misfortune, a cartoon mouse.
> We're wealthy, too, spoiled by the ready
> availability of trinkets and material
> goods, and maybe because of that, we walk
> through life with a certain sense
> of blithe entitlement. We are fundamentally
> decent, though - peace-loving
> and compassionate. We struggle to know the
> right thing and to do it. And
> we are, the overwhelming majority of us,
> people of faith, believers in a just
> and loving God.
> Some people - you, perhaps - think that any
> or all of this makes us
> weak. You're mistaken. We are not weak.
> Indeed, we are strong in ways
> that cannot be measured by arsenals.
> Yes, we're in pain now. We are in mourning
> and we are in shock. We're still
> grappling with the unreality of the awful
> thing you did, still working to make
> ourselves understand that this isn't a
> special effect from some Hollywood
> blockbuster, isn't the plot development
> from a Tom Clancy novel.
> Both in terms of the awful scope of its
> ambition and the probable final death
> toll, your attacks are likely to go down as
> the worst acts of terrorism in the
> history of the United States and, indeed,
> the history of the world. You've
> bloodied us as we have never been bloodied
> But there's a gulf of difference between
> making us bloody and making us fall.
> This is the lesson Japan was taught to its
> bitter sorrow the last time anyone
> hit us this hard, the last time anyone
> brought us such abrupt and monumental
> pain. When roused, we are righteous in our
> outrage, terrible in our force.
> When provoked by this level of barbarism,
> we will bear any suffering, pay
> any cost, go to any length, in the pursuit
> of justice.
> I tell you this without fear of
> contradiction. I know my people, as you, I
> think, do not. What I know reassures me.
> It also causes me to tremble with
> dread of the future.
> In days to come, there will be
> recrimination and accusation, fingers pointing
> to determine whose failure allowed this to
> happen and what can be done to
> prevent it from happening again. There will
> be heightened security,
> misguided talk of revoking basic freedoms.
> We'll go forward from this
> moment sobered, chastened, sad. But
> determined, too. Unimaginably
> You see, there is steel beneath this
> velvet. That aspect of our character is
> seldom understood by people who don't know
> us well. On this day, the
> family's bickering is put on hold. As
> Americans we will weep, as Americans
> we will mourn, and as Americans, we will
> rise in defense of all that we
> Still, I keep wondering what it was you
> hoped to teach us. It occurs to me
> that maybe you just wanted us to know the
> depths of your hatred.
> If that's the case, consider the message
> received. And take this message in
> exchange: You don't know my people. You
> don't know what we're about.
> You don't know what you just started.
> But you're about to learn.
Here's the recent experience of one William Harvey of Indianapolis, a
freshman violin major at Julliard.
Monday, Sept. 17
Yesterday I had probably the most incredible and moving experience of my
life. Juilliard organized a quartet to go play at the Armory. The Armory is
a huge military building where families of people missing from Tuesday's
disaster go to wait for news of their loved ones. Entering the building was
very difficult emotionally, because the entire building (the size of a city
block) was covered with missing posters. Thousands of posters, spread out up
to eight feet above the ground, each featuring a different, smiling, face.
I made my way into the huge central room and found my Juilliard buddies. For
two hours we sightread quartets (with only three people!), and I don't think
I will soon forget the grief counselor from the Connecticut State Police who
listened the entire time, or the woman who listened only to "Memory" from
Cats, crying the whole time. At 7, the other two players had to leave; they
had been playing at the Armory since 1 and simply couldn't play any more.
I volunteered to stay and play solo, since I had just got there. I soon
realized that the evening had just begun for me: a man in fatigues who
introduced himself as Sergeant Major asked me if I'd mind playing for his
soldiers as they came back from digging through the rubble at Ground Zero.
Masseuses had volunteered to give his men massages, he said, and he didn't
think anything would be more soothing than getting a massage and listening
to violin music at the same time. So at 9:00 p.m., I headed up to the second
floor as the first men were arriving. From then until 11:30, I played
everything I could do for memory: Bach B Minor Partita, Tchaik. Concerto,
Dvorak Concerto, Paganini Caprices 1 and 17, Vivaldi Winter and Spring,
Theme from Schindler's List, Tchaik. Melodie, Meditation from Thais, Amazing
Grace, My Country 'Tis of Thee, Turkey in the Straw, Bile Them Cabbages
Never have I played for a more grateful audience. Somehow it didn't matter
that by the end, my intonation was shot and I had no bow control. I would
have lost any competition I was playing in, but it didn't matter. The men
would come up the stairs in full gear, remove their helmets, look at me, and
At 11:20, I was introduced to Col. Slack, head of the division. After
thanking me, he said to his friends, "Boy, today was the toughest day yet. I
made the mistake of going back into the pit, and I'll never do that again."
Eager to hear a first-hand account, I asked, "What did you see?" He
stopped, swallowed hard, and said, "What you'd expect to see." The
Colonel stood there as I played a lengthy rendition of Amazing Grace which
he claimed was the best he'd ever heard.
By this time it was 11:30, and I didn't think I could play anymore. I asked
Sergeant Major if it would be appropriate if I played the National Anthem.
He shouted above the chaos of the milling soldiers to call them to
attention, and I played the National Anthem as the 300 men of the 69th
Division saluted an invisible flag.
After shaking a few hands and packing up, I was prepared to leave when one
of the privates accosted me and told me the Colonel wanted to see me again.
He took me down to the War Room, but we couldn't find the Colonel, so he
gave me a tour of the War Room. It turns out that the division I played for
is the Famous Fighting Sixty-Ninth, the most decorated division in the U.S.
Army. He pointed out a letter from Abraham Lincoln offering his condolences
after the Battle of Antietam...the 69th suffered the most casualties of any
division at that historic battle. Finally, we located the Colonel. After
thanking me again, he presented me with the coin of the regiment. "We only
give these to someone who's done something special for the 69th," he
informed me. He called over the division's historian to tell me the
significance of all the symbols on the coin.
As I rode the taxi back to Juilliard...free, of course, since taxi service
is free in New York right now...I was numb. Not only was this evening the
proudest I've ever felt to be an American, it was my most meaningful as a
musician and a person as well. At Juilliard, kids are hypercritical of each
other and very competitive. The teachers expect, and in most cases get,
technical perfection. But this wasn't about that. The soldiers didn't care
that I had so many memory slips I lost count. They didn't care that when I
forgot how the second movement of the Tchaik. went, I had to come up with my
own insipid improvisation until I somehow (and I still don't know how) got
to a cadence. I've never seen a more appreciative audience, and I've never
understood so fully what it means to communicate music to other people.
And how did it change me as a person? Let's just say that, next time I want
to get into a petty argument about whether Richter or Horowitz was better,
I'll remember that when I asked the Colonel to describe the pit formed by
the tumbling of the Towers, he couldn't. Words only go so far, and even
music can only go a little further from there.
Subject: Terrorists get an "F"
By now everyone has been hearing the death toll
rise and reports of the destruction from the terrorist attacks on the US.
These were deplorable acts that we will never forget. But now is a time
to look at the other side of the numbers coming out of New York, Washington
and Pennsylvania. The sad but somewhat uplifting side that the mainstream
media has not reported yet - the SURVIVAL rates and some positive news about
*** The Buildings ***
* The World Trade Center - The twin towers of the
World Trade Center were places of employment for some 50,000 people. With
the missing list of just over 5,000 people, that means
90% of the people targeted survived the attack. A 90% on a test is an 'A'.
* The Pentagon - Some 23,000 people were the target of a third plane aimed
at the Pentagon. The latest count shows that only 123 lost their lives.
That is an amazing 99.5% survival rate. in addition, the plane seems
to have come in too low, too early to affect a large portion of the
building. On top of that, the section that was hit was the first of five
sections to undergo renovations that would help protect the Pentagon from
terrorist attacks. It had recently completed straightening and
blastproofing, saving untold lives.
This attack was sad, but a statistical failure.
*** The Planes ***
* American Airlines Flight 77 This Boeing 757 that
was flown into the outside of the Pentagon could have carried up to
289 people, yet only 64 were aboard. Luckily 78% of the seats were empty.
* American Airlines Flight 11 This Boeing 767 could have had up to 351
people aboard, but only carried 92. Thankfully 74% of the seats were
* United Airlines Flight 175 Another Boeing 767 that could have sat 351
people only had 65 people on board. Fortunately it was 81% empty.
* United Airlines Flight 93 This Boeing 757 was one of the most uplifting
stories yet. The smallest flight to be hijacked with only 45 people aboard
out of a possible 289 had 84% of its capacity unused. Yet these people stood
up to the attackers and thwarted a fourth attempted destruction of a
national landmark, saving untold numbers of lives in the process.
*** In Summary ***
Out of potentially 74,280 Americans directly targeted by
these inept cowards, 93% survived or avoided the attacks. That's a higher
survival rate than heart attacks, breast cancer, kidney transplants and
liver transplants - all common, survivable illnesses.
The Hijacked planes were mostly empty, the Pentagon was hit at it's
strongest point, the overwhelming majority of people in the World Trade
Center buildings escaped, and a handful of passengers gave the ultimate
sacrifice to save even more lives.