City Called Heaven

This year, in advance of the anniversary, I've been remembering that day and the aftermath. There is so much. Those attacks re-shaped my life, and have had an immense malign impact upon the world. The killings of thousands that day helped loose the dogs of war which have killed many hundreds of thousands since then. There is lots to remember about that day and the immediate aftermath. For some reason, this year, I find it easier to be in touch with the strong feelings: the shock, the fear, the confusing uncertainty, the horror, the immense sadness... and even the hope, that in the midst of terror, there would be a way out. I remember the shriek of fighter jets over Manhattan that afternoon, roaring out of nowhere, and not being sure if this was threat or protection. I remember the helpless feeling of wanting to do something to heal, to help, to fight back against this assault on humanity and on my city. I remember the smells: the burning which went on for months, the sweat, and