I had to play the music of it again. Some of the songs of it, for a moment suggested a faint happy step. Bruce Springsteen can do that to you, and he did, in "the Rising"; His "Lonesome Day" grabs your gut, and doesn't let go until he sings "You're missing", My City of Ruins", and other songs about that day, I hope always haunt me.

Where were you, what were you doing on Nine Eleven? I was sleeping in because I'd worked late, and only faintly heard the phone, but let the recorder take it, When I did get up, the little red light on it led me to a message from my son; something about a plane crashing into something but I would get more information after a bathroom stop, and a first cup of coffee.

After those two simple things we do on ordinary days. although I didn't realize it, I stepped into a shock induced Post Traumatic Stress Disorder that wouldn't turn loose of me for days. I went to work as usual, and somehow got through it, kind of like flying on automatic. But then I'd go home, and see more on TV and be mesmerized by the unbelief of it.

I remember being at a store, and seeing a newspaper headline about another plane crashing somewhere in Pennsylvania, and thinking I should hurry home, and make sure my daughter who lives there is O.K. But my body couldn't keep up with my mind, Horrible things, which the TV kept showing do not happen in America. Not only was I affected by PTSD, I put myself into denial, like perhaps millions of other Americans did that day.

My next thought was that I must have a flag, and a map of the world. because I didn't know exactly where these terrorists who killed thousands of Americans that day were from, but I was pretty sure our government did, and I had this great need to know what would be next. In the meantime I had to wait to find a flag. The stores were sold out.

They practiced flying planes in Florida. Nobody noticed that they only wanted to know how to fly into something, not how to get out. Others sailed right through what we think are safe borders to our country. Whoever gets elected to lead our country needs to take a closer look at that.

These days, even with a presidential election looming, when I drive to the local marketplace, I still don't see many flags. I was encouraged by something my son and his son said this evening. Both of them took time to register to vote. Always, since I was old enough, I do. The terrorists would strip us of that. But I owe so much to those who gained me that right, so I must pay it forward. If I don't get called out to work a nursing shift, I will be at the phonebank making calls tomorrow, and if my wounded knee can, this weekend I will help with door to door canvassing. Whatever I can do, I will dedicate to the three thousand or more who died on that day Springsteen sings about:

"Can't see nothin' in front of me, Can't see nothin' coming up behind. I make my way through this darkness, I can't feel nothing but this chain that binds me.

Lost track of how far I've gone, how high I've climbed,

On my back's a sixty pound stone, on my shoulder a half mile of line,

Come on up for "The Rising".