Remembering 9/11 in 2009

I was not here in New York during that now infamous day. Having lived, shopped, conversed, and shared public frustration with the lack of physical resolve at the WTC site with many of whom have, I feel a connection with the event that I wouldn’t have still being in California. It’s eight years after that tragic incident and this year I have the time off to come down and experience the memorial live.

The city is in mourning not only by it’s people, but the sky’s darken, weeping along with those that have lost family, friends and colleagues. I missed the public reading of all the lost names, however, a list is walled up at the Deutsche bank construction site near Ladder Co. 10 for all to read, comment and add condolences.

This is the interim site for the WTC memorial. Patriotic flower wreaths stand next to plaques of remembrance calling for everyone “Never Forget”, flags and posted firemen standing at attention to the throngs of mourners paying respect.

After snapping a few photos, I joined most of the firefighters at O’Hara’s Pub for a pint, some song, and a cheer for the families of loved ones lost. Here are a few of my pictures and the rest of the few can be seen in the Gallery.

That phone call I wish I took

It’s Summerstage Saturday, and we make a late ditch effort to get up to Central Park to catch one of my favorite NY Hip Hop artist’s: Q-Tip. He’s rocking a show today and as we walk up at 2:30 pm, the line to get in, is horrendously long. This is typical for many big acts, and if you’re not in the park by 12 for them, you’ll most likely be enjoying a good sun tan in line, rather than the show going on 2 football fields away.

We packed a cooler of wine and beer, snacks and a large blanket, and join the smart people just outside the venue under the trees. Even though you can barely see the stage, you can hear the show just as well, and the park around the venue is always filled with fans you can head nod with when “Electric Relaxation” drops.

The Q-Tip show off the hook and one of my fonder concert moments in the park next to hearing Beastie Boys. Being so into it, I missed a call from mom and was able to check the voicemail about an hour after it was left.

As it starts, I could barely hear the message, the noise of sniffling and obvious concern was all I could hear as there was still music playing. I knew instantly something was wrong and ran clear of the stage to hear the rest of the message. What I could make out was my father was in a motorcycle accident, was airlifted to a hospital and Mom wasn’t sure if he’d make it.

At that moment everything around me disappeared.

I replayed the message over and over to get what ever info I could and called her back. First home – no answer- and then the cell which went straight to voicemail. I called my sister and left her a short frantic message: “What happened to dad? Call me back!” Called mom again. Called my uncle but he’d changed his number. Called my cousins – voicemail again. Called my neighbors and again, no answer. I’m in the dark…

My heart has sunk, I’m lost, confused, don’t know anything except that all I know is my Dad is dying. I continue to call the people I know with no result as I walk back to our party blanket. The party is over and I let my friends know I need to go.

Hungry and uninformed, we take a cab (still in cell phone range) down to Curry Hill to get some food, but I’m uncertain I’ll be able to eat. I already contemplate looking for flights home on Sunday but want to hear news first before I book. While I’m sitting at Dhaba staring at food I should eat but can’t stomach right now…. then finally I receive the call.

My mom’s been in the ICU and hasn’t been able to call me. She’s distraught, uncertain of the outcome of my father but she’s spoken to him and he seems to be positive. Apparently he went out early in the day to Carnegie to meet a friend, that was late and decided to hit the trails solo. After 30 min, he started to hit some big trails and got into trouble coming down a hill and rolled the ATV coming off too fast on a berm. Bouncing down a hill, he was banged up and with no one around, crawled a mile or two until someone else found him. Paramedics were called and he needed to be air lifted to the hospital, where they were “working on him” to keep him alive. Serious.

Mom was having trouble articulating but apparently he’s broken 8 ribs, shoulder, leg and the most serious a punctured lung which is filling with fluid. He’s not in pain with all the morphine pumping but has come out of surgery and already calling to make sure the ATV, gas tank and his gear is not stolen. I’m going to talk with him today and determine if I need to head out there on Monday.

My thoughts, love and prayers are going out to my father for a complete recovery.

A Tribe Called Quest: Electric Relaxation
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A Tribe Called Quest: Stressed Out (LP Version)
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Photo credit to Peter Ruprecht

Guns in the Family

Colt Automatic 32 Caliber Rimless, Smokeless PistolThere’s been a lot of talk about guns, gun laws and the future of those both in New York and this country, especially with the NRA heavily promoting this gun outlaw Armageddon with Obama as president. I’m not really going to get into my side of this yet, but I will comment on that my family has always had guns. Typically hunting rifles, shot guns etc.

My Great Grandfather lived in San Jose, CA. I know this well because I have a pocket book from him with most of his personal information, thoughts and life. He’s marked down all the items he’s owned (vacuums, cars, guns and other electronics), prescriptions (drugs and there chemical nature, glasses), bills that need to be paid, news stories, bank account records, stock portfolio and just comments, quotes or passages from the bible.

I thought I would continue to add comments from his book to the blog for record and my own history. The first page I turned to was a record of the gun he owned: The Colt Automatic 32 Caliber Rimless, Smokeless Pistol. This hand gun has an original patented date of April 20th, 1897 and was last patented on Dec. 22, 1903. The number seems to be low, but I won’t post it here.

Pictured above, he sold the gun on November 21st, 1960 to a Jack R in San Jose, CA for $17.50. Today that same gun in mint condition is worth $550. Although no other remarks are made in his black book, I wonder of the history. I know these guns were issued to men in World War I, of which my GGF fought in. I think about where that gun has been, who might have held it, shot it and what it may be doing now (sitting in someone’s collection presumably). The gun had lived its course for him, and he kept a record of it’s release for any unfortunate event there was a need.

My Great Grandfather wrote in the beginning of this black book:

“God grant me the serenity to accept things I cannot change,
the courage to change things I can,
and wisdom to know the difference.”