Quote of the day: "If I leave here tomorrow... would you still remember me?"- Lynrd Skynrd

     Tuesday morning I woke up to a phone ringing, and spoke with my roommate's grandmother. She was worried about him, and i told her that he was alright, and just out for a run. She wanted me to have him call her as soon as he got in, and I promised her that I would. I came downstairs to see that our lives had changed forever.

     I sat on the couch in my underwear, struck dumb with what I saw. I tried so hard to justify what I was watching; I tried to tell myself that I wasn't watching the beginning of a new American world- a world draped in the darkness of evil and tragedy. Perhaps it was just a wicked coincidence, or a faulty air traffic controller. I hoped and prayed, literally, for what I was seeing to not be what it was.

     My next emotions were of duty and action. I packed my bags, got my gear, and got to the base as quickly as I could. I knew that I might not be home for a while, so I tried to straighten some affairs the best I could. Luckily I had a prepared will and burial arrangements, because I truly had no idea what to expect. I hopped in the car and took off, headed for the back gate of Wright-Patterson Air Force Base so that I could get my weapon, and figure out what was what. It was now rage that fueled me, and a little part of me actually hoped that some of the action would be brought to me. General Patton said that the point of war isn't to die for your country, but to make the other bastard die for his, and I felt it.

     I drove just as fast as possible, going the wrong way down roads and through the gate to get past traffic, waved through by the on-duty guards. The base was on lockdown, nobody in or out, until it was assured that we were not under threat of imminent attack. Wright-Patt is one of the assessed 'top terrorist targets,' due to the amount of critical research and development and leadership present. I got my guns, I got my ammo, and I got my patrol car. It was time to make sure things were secure. Sixteen hours later, I returned home, collapsed in my bed to sleep, and awoke in three hours to get back to work.

     The next few months were more of the same, albeit with less high-speed driving. The days passed into weeks, the weeks into months, before things calmed down just a little. It was then that I finally had a chance to reflect on what was going on, what had happened, and what I actually felt. I was driving home one day in January as the numbers sunk in; images of firefighters pulling office workers, policemen, and other firefighters from the wreckage played through my mind like a the video montage of a news report. People running from the largest buildings around, collapsing behind them, sure that their worlds were ending.

     It was January when I cried for those we'd lost, and for the families and friends they had to leave behind. I had barely gotten into the house, slumped over on the couch, and bellowed into the cushions. All of my emotions on display, though meaningless other than in scaring my dog.

     I began then what I do now, and I thought of everyone we'd lost, looking down and smiling, with tears in their eyes, knowing that our lifetimes are but a breath to them, and that they will soon be reunited with their families and friends. We'll walk with them once again, in a world much different, not darkened by evil or tragedy.

     We'll walk with them once again, in a world bathed in sunshine.