For the fifth anniversary, I’ve been struggling to find an eloquent way to write something useful about 9-11 and its victims and the meaning of the myriad events that have happened since.  Every time I try, words just fail.  Too many rush forward.  Too few need to be spoken.  I believe perhaps a lot of you may know the feeling.

You may also remember the strange sense of connection that day brought in the rest of us.  In the first hours afterward, none of us were right or left or rich or poor, and it was OK to hug people if they were sobbing.  We weren’t strangers, all fighting and competing, for just a moment.  We were neighbors and friends and simply fellow Americans.  I do wish we still were.  I wish that feeling had guided all of us, every one of us, more than it has.

Anyhow, I’m not gonna do any blogging on 9-11.  I have no idea what to say.  I don’t pretend any insight.  I probably know less every day.  So I’m just gonna think and feel and grieve and try to remember for myself, and see if I can learn anything.  Figure you’re doing the same.

See you on the 12th, dear neighbors and friends.