Fifteen years ago today

I was in the Westin Burlingame on a business trip when I learned the news.  Gina, who was in the same hotel on this trip, pounded on my hotel room door, woke me up, and we watched in horror as the plane hit the second tower.

I wasn't in New York.  I lost no friends in the attack.  Yet I still feel sick about it.

That Friday, I flew home on the first flight to leave the Bay Area since the attacks.  We had to arrive over three hours early for the flight.  Lines were huge.  Everyone was somber.  Most were shell-shocked.  No one complained.

Almost everyone on our flight sighed in relief when it took off, but people remained tense the whole time we were in the air.

On Monday, I flew into La Guardia on a business trip.  As we drew closer to the airport, I could see out the window--I was on the left side of a small commuter plane--the smoldering ruins and the helicopters still patrolling the airspace.  The anger in the plane was palpable.  I felt it.

The ripples of that day have cost a probably unknowable number of human lives and an also probably unknowable amount of money, to our country and to others.

I wasn't in New York.  I lost no friends in the attack.  Yet I still feel sick about it.

Random thoughts on Friday, 9/11

On the morning walk, I couldn't help but notice that here and there on neighborhood trees the green is giving way to yellow and brown. I'm not ready yet for the season to change.

This day still gets to me, and all I did was watch on TV like millions and millions of other people. Flying past Manhattan six days later is still vivid in my memory. My heart has hurt all day today.

It doesn't matter how hard you work for your art or how much you suffer or what it costs you. In the end, the art must stand alone.

I hope to do parts of Science Magic Sex in San Francisco at the Borderlands signing and maybe all of it a few more times at cons. If Balticon has me do another spoken-word show, I will probably write a new one. Working title: Wake Up Horny, Wake Up Angry. Don't ask.

I admire many people of faith who hold true to their beliefs. I do not, however, think that this particular page, which Sarah brought to my attention, is doing anyone any good. Best passage: "However, it appears that Satan is behind the whole health care debate. He is not interested in free enterprise."

A few 9/11 snapshots

Gina and I were in the SF Bay Area working at the facility there that reported to me. Her knock on my hotel room door woke me. When I let her in, she turned on the TV and told me what had happened. We watched the live broadcast of the plane hitting the South Tower.

Some people at our facility cried. We were all zombies.

Gina and I weren't sure we'd get home on Friday, as we'd planned.

The local papers were full of stories of innocent Muslims in San Francisco being harassed by angry people.

We were on the first plane to leave San Jose airport on the day it reopened--the Friday after the attack. We had to arrive three hours early for a 6:20 a.m. flight. Security was a disorganized zoo. The lines wrapped back and forth and ultimately down the escalator, and they took two hours to get through. No one complained. No one fought. You could feel the relief when we took off.

The following Monday, six days after the attack, I flew into New York City. From my seat on the commuter jet I had a clear view of the smoking ruins and the helicopters circling it. The plane was full. You could feel the anger in it. I stared at the people around me. We were all primally, viciously angry. We had been violated--all of us--even though none of us were there.

I cannot imagine the torment of the rescue workers, the survivors still coping with what happened to them, or the families of the victims. My heart goes out to them.