Ten years ago today I was a Second Class Petty Officer stationed at the Naval Media Center in Washington D.C. I was a videographer/editor for an internal weekly news program called Navy Marine Corps News.
As I remember it we had an all hands muster outside the building in the parking lot later than normal at 9am. There was a TV in the lobby of the building so on the way out many of us were glued to the news and the reports that a plane had flew into the World Trade Center North Tower. Initial reports were cryptic at best, but the feeling of many people early on were that the plane was possibly a smaller commuter plane. I remember talking to someone about how messed up it was that someone had made this horrible mistake.
We slowly filed outside for quarters and went about our business. As quarters ended and we headed back inside we quickly realized how much things had changed because we now were looking at two towers, both burning now, with black smoke rising up into the air. This was no accident. Within minutes a plane hit the Pentagon.
Soon after we were all gathered into the soundstage area. We still were all in a bit of shock and a state of confusion. At least I was internally. Little did I know at the time that my wife was freaking out and trying to get ahold of me. It was not abnormal for me to have a job to do at the Pentagon. It seemed like almost once a week I was there. Luckily I wasn't that morning but she didn't know that. Phone lines everywhere were just jammed. You couldn't make a call. Eventually we did talk on the phone and I told her I was safe.
Our job was to make news so we all immediately began thinking of what we could do. We were across the Potomac River from the Pentagon and you could see the smoke billowing up from the site, but I wouldnt' be grabbing my camera and headed there that morning. My marching orders were a bit different from that.
I was told to grab my video camera and tripod and get on top of our building. My goal? Point my camera skyward and look for "any other planes that might fall from the sky". We still didn't know if this attack was over yet. I can't tell you how difficult it was being up there. I spent close to four hours on that roof completely cut off from news about the towers or the Pentagon. All I had were my own thoughts and the constant visual of the Pentagon whose smoke was filling the D.C. sky.
I finally got relieved from my "watch". I remember walking down the steps and running into a fellow shipmate. I was starved for some updates so I asked, "How are the towers in NYC?" He said, "There are no more towers." I wasn't sure I heard him right and I clearly remember saying, "What the fuck do you mean there are no more towers?"
"They are gone. Collapsed."
I was absolutely speechless. I couldn't wrap my head around what the fuck was going on. How does this happen? Who did this and how can I kill them? I don't think I'd ever felt the range of emotions I felt that day. Confusion. Fright. Anger. Sadness. You name it.
It was pretty clear that we were going to send a crew to NYC the next morning to start shooting and interviewing people for a story. I knew I wanted to go bad. LCDR Phillips soon made the call and told us that myself and Marine Staff Sergeant Jimmy Williams would drive up first thing in the morning.
Driving into NYC that next day was surreal. Smoke and debris were everywhere. You have no clue how it was seeing it on TV. The debris was the ground was literally six inches think. It didn't even seem like America down there at Ground Zero. I am still grateful for how lucky we were. We wore our camouflage uniforms with our Pentagon badges on it. Regular news crews were forced to setup blocks away from Ground Zero. They had perimeters set up and we'd walk right through those, camera and mics in hand. If a cop or anyone else stopped us we showed our badges and they let us right through. The footage we got down there that week were incredible and the people there had such stories to tell. I'm extremely proud of the work Jimmy and I did down there. It was tough though.
As we were shooting and working it was easy to focus on what we needed to do but there was always part of me that wanted to put my camera down and help. There were so many people there doing everything they could to assist in trying to find survivors. I wanted to help but we had our own place and it was to tell the story.
What some may not realize is how unstable some of the structures around the towers were after the collapse and how unsure many people were about it all. They had set up people at a few sites to monitor adjacent buildings' stability. They had a warning system in place and an alarm would be sounded if they thought another building could collapse. If you heard the alarm you needed to drop what you were doing and haul ass to get out of there.
I can't remember if it was Thursday or Friday that week but we were shooting footage one day and the alarm sounded. I can't explain the feeling you get when you see hundreds of police officers, firemen, military members and volunteers drop what they are doing and start running to get the hell out of there. We ran too. It was scary and still quite surreal.
I think the worst part of that job for me was in the evenings. When I'd get to my hotel room and was left alone with nothing but my thoughts, things got tough. Focusing all my energy each day on white balance, composition, focus, audio levels, etc., kept a lot of feelings at bay. I didn't have that luxury at night. I had time to really think about what I'd seen that day and the stories people had to tell. I just couldn't understand why this was happening and I continued to be quite pissed off about it. I knew what I was doing was important but part of me just wanted to FIX THIS! That's exactly what it was too. I would get overcome with emotion on some nights and would actually look forward to the next morning when I could grab my camera and go do some work. My job helped me cope more than I ever even realized at the time.
I feel honored and lucky to have been stationed where I was during this monumental time in our history. I got a view of all this that many didn't have and I'll be forever grateful for that.
I was thinking earlier about how unfair life is sometimes. It's true. We tell our kids that as a joke when they say, "That's not fair!" But it's true. It's not. It's not fair that there were so many people affected by this cowardly attack. It's not fair that kids grew up without their father or their mother. It's not fair that people had to continue without their brother or their sister. It just wasn't fair and it still pisses me off but we must also truly never forget that day. But don't only remember that day. Remember the people directly affected by it. As tough was it was for me to see everything I saw I'll never pretend to know what people who lost their loved ones go through each and every day.
I promise you that I will NEVER FORGET!
So I watched 'The Tillman Story ' on Showtime last night. If you aren't familiar, it's the story of Pat Tillman, a former NFL football player for the Arizona Cardinals, who soon after 9/11 made the decision to enlist in the Army with his brother in order to serve as an Army Ranger.
During a second combat tour, this one in Afghanistan, Pat was killed. Initial reports from the military and news was that Tillman had led an offensive attack on Taliban forces when another part of his convoy was ambushed. It was a tragic story about a patriotic young man who left a life of professional sports to serve his country and, in turn, paid the ultimate sacrifice.
Soon after the initial story, reports started to surface that suggested that Tillman was not killed by enemy fire in the midst of combat, but that he was killed by friendly fire in the "fog of war". There was confusion all around and it ultimately cost him his life. Well, it seems like that was bullshit too. I won't go into any further details. It's easy to Google it to discover the facts or watch the movie. Suffice to say that the death of this young man was used to benefit other's agendas.
I can't tell you how pissed off this story makes me. As someone who spent 20 years serving in our military, I think this kind of shit literally spits in the face of all that serve. At the end of the day doesn't anyone who volunteers to serve their country deserve, at the very least, respect and the truth???
There is one scene when Donald Rumsfeld, among other high ranking military officials, testify in front of a House Oversight Committee. Any human being with a lick of common sense could see that these people were full of shit but everyone just seemed to turn the other cheek and pretended like all of the people responsible for this huge coverup had been punished already. It just so happens that the only person, up to that point, who has been publicly reprimanded was retired at the time. Convenient.
This just keeps playing into my continued frustration with our government and the people we elect to serve us. Where the fuck is basic common decency in this day and age? How can people that participate in this madness sleep at night? I mean there wasn't one fucking person on that committee who wanted to stand up and say "This is bullshit and the American people deserve better!"
Not only that, but a few years later, right after being put in charge of the Afghan war, Gen. Stanley McChrystal publicly apologized for his role in the Tillman coverup. "I was a part of that and I apologize for it," Army Lt. Gen. Stanley McChrystal told a Senate hearing.
Wait a fucking minute!! This guy admits to, at the very least, falsifying a homicide investigation and then he's rewarded with the assignment as Commander, U.S. Forces Afghanistan? Someone please tell me how this shit happens? And don't think for one second he was the only one involved in this.
To add insult to injury, President Obama recently appointed McChrystal as a co-chair of a military families commission. Some think it was a move to help patch up relations with some officers who never were happy with McChrystal's firing in 2010 following some incidents of insubordination. I seriously couldn't make this shit up.
We all, as American citizens, deserve better than that. The lack of decency by many of these people is despicable!! Maybe we should change our focus when electing our public servants. Instead of asking how they would balance the budget or their views on whatever other issue, just ask them if they are going to tell the fucking TRUTH!!! And yes, I'm pointing fingers back at our politicians. You'd have to be a fucking deaf and blind person to not know something was up and to not really push these assholes to punish all those responsible.
These people should be ashamed. I personally feel like I've been slapped in the face. Apparently service only means something to these people as long as there isn't an "angle" to play. This was the worst kind of propaganda. The people responsible for this don't have a decent bone in their damn body. It's so frustrating to see so many people get away with something as disgusting as this.
Finally, let's not all be so naive to think this is an isolated case. Pat Tillman was a high profile military service member so this story certainly had legs. How many other times do you think the military/government has gone out of their way to hide the truth of how a Soldier, Sailor, Airman or Marine is killed? When they hide the truth like this it insults my intelligence. As with many jobs in the world, military service can be dangerous. Accidents happen. Shit happens.
Just give it to us straight and stop bullshitting!
We all know the phrase: "If I knew then what I know now things sure would have been different." "Hindsight is 20/20" is another good one.
The older I get the more I relate to these terms. Never was this more evident to me than after taking our daughter to the American Girl Doll Store in Atlanta recently. What a racket this place is. This is a place where your little girl can take her doll into the store and you can pay twenty damn dollars to have her hair done. Not a real person's hair! It's a fucking doll!! You can also buy the doll a new outfit and then get your daughter a matching one!! The possibilities are endless.
So I'm standing in the store trying to keep my two boys halfway entertained while the ladies get their "girly fix". Now regardless of my metrosexual leanings I never played with dolls. Well, unless you count the Jill Munroe doll I had back around 1979 or so. Give me a break! I was ten years old and Farrah Fawcett made me feel things I had not felt before. Between her and the photos of Stevie Nicks on Fleetwood Mac's 'Rumours' album, I was discovering things about myself. They will always hold a special place in my heart (among other places). Now it's YouTube videos and Facebook pictures although I will argue that the Farrah Fawcett poster with her in the red bathing suit is as provocative as anything you'll find today. Anytime I looked at that poster I just knew that she was happy to see me and I was certainly happy to see her.
Anyway, I'm standing there in the store looking around. Looking at all the cute little girls and their dolls, smiles a mile wide. Looking at the well kept mom's. I would call them MILFs but I think I'm too old for that now. Looking at the few other fathers in the store, they all shared one thing in common, and that was the look on their face. You know the look, the one that looks like, "What the hell has happened to my life and why am I paying 20 fucking dollars on a hairdo for a doll?" As I was taking all this in and still trying to comprehend the fact that I'm about to spend at least 100 bucks on a plastic doll, something occurred to me............
This place is a damn meat market!!! Now I'm pissed! Where in the hell was a place like this when I was 10 years old? Yeah, I had my Farrah Fawcett doll but a growing boy needs more. He needs friendship and the warm smile of a pretty girl who can actually talk!! After dwelling on that for a few minutes I decided to take action, because the only thing we can do at this point is live vicariously through our kids, right? I grabbed my eight year old, Tyler, and told him that he should be going around and getting some girls numbers!! What? You don't have a cell phone?? Take mine!! I'm trying to help you out here. He was embarrassed. I don't think he understood how fucking awesome this place was for him! When he gets into his 40's he will understand.
Trust me, if I was 8-10 years old right now I would be at that damn store every week! I mean these are cute girls we're talking about. They all seemed to come from good stock. These weren't girls that you needed to get hopped up on Gummy Bears and Mountain Dew to think they are good looking either! Of course I probably wouldn't have many friends, other than my "Doll" ladies, and my family would probably be trying to figure out what the hell is going on. "Why does Jonathan keep asking for American Girl Dolls and wants to go to the store every week?" Yeah, I would be THAT kid. Laugh all you want but my little black book would be filling up with numbers faster than you could say 'Gold Dust Woman'. I would make good use of it too.
I'd probably go through at least three extra Big Wheels a year. I'd be putting some serious mileage on them so I could go see if Jenny can come out and play. It would have been glorious!
Back to reality. I'm 42 and I don't think I'm turning back the clock to 10 anytime soon. I guess us adults should all just take this blog entry as a public service announcement.
If you have a girl who is into the American Girl Doll scene and you take them to one of these stores, just be on the lookout for those little playas on the prowl.
If you have a boy who shows a sudden interest in American Girl Dolls and he wants to hit up the store, go and buy him a little black book and a new Big Wheel cause business is about to pick up!!
We'll deal with double standards at a later date.
I never really contributed to the stereotype. See, I'm from North Carolina, a pretty conservative state. After all we did elect Jesse Helms to five terms in the U.S. Senate. The same Jesse Helms that filibustered for 16 days to try and prevent the passing of a federal holiday to honor Martin Luther King, Jr. You can talk to me until you're blue in the face and you will never make me understand that on any level. That's just the tip of the iceberg where good ole' Jesse is concerned. This isn't Jesse Helms bashing hour though. I just need to give credit where credit is due. He is but one of the reasons that I'm a very liberal southerner.
Of course that puts me in a minority. I'm used to it. I also spent over twenty years in the U.S. Navy so I understand being in a minority, politically speaking, very well. Probably 90% of my friends growing up in North Carolina are conservative and come from conservative families. I'd be lying if I said I didn't struggle with that at times but, at the end of the day, these are the kind of people who made me who I am and I love them all dearly, regardless of their political leanings.
Speaking of leanings, what about me? You probably need to have more of an idea where I'm coming from if you are even going to consider reading anymore of my ramblings or tirades. Ramblings and tirades, mind you, that come from my heart and are very rarely based in any kind of fact. I may be that crazy monster you heard of when you were young, the "Bleeding Heart Liberal". I'm sure those of you that know me understand how incredibly dangerous I can be!! Anyways, don't waste your time trying to talk sense into me, but I do enjoy hearing others views and will happily partake in a civilized discussion, but I'm 42 years old and you're not going to change my fucking mind. Best case scenario you will read my blog, laugh a little and it will reaffirm where you stand no matter which side of the fence you are on. Worse case scenario you'll read it, think I'm stupid and decide not to be my friend anymore. I can live with either of those outcomes.
Okay, where were we? Southern liberal. What exactly does that mean? It means I'm basically President Barrack Obama except I'm white, talk with a southern accent and I'm NOT the President. Oh and I'm fatter than he is. And possibly more liberal. He kind of wusses out on occasions.
I'm also "borderline" metrosexual. Marinate on that for a few moments............ Alright I'll let you off the hook. What that means is that I'm not against keeping my pubic area well groomed but I draw the line at pedicures and manicures. At least that's the way I have it thought out in my head. I also like watching TV shows that some people easily paint as "gay" if viewed by a self professed heterosexual man. Project Runway, Glee, The Bachelor, So You Think You Can Dance, etc. The list is long. I do watch "cool" shit too!
In my defense, years ago when the shame and guilt of watching those shows was getting to me I tried to make a change. I figured that if I'm being called "gay" all the time then I might as well go for the gusto. I had watched something on 60 Minutes or some other news magazine where all these people were saying how being homosexual was a choice. This was it!! It was a revelation and I felt so inspired! All those years of struggling with girls and in heterosexual relationships was over!! I'm going to be gay now!!! I couldn't have been happier. I was ready to shout it from the mountain tops!!! I'm gay!!! And I'm not talking about being happy!!!
There was one problem though. No matter how hard I tried I could not become aroused by the thought of being intimate with another man. There's no way these people could have been lying right? They said it was a lifestyle "choice" after all. A choice! So if my shitty hetero life wasn't going well I could just choose to try the other route. That's what I thought they meant. Could I have misunderstood what they were saying? I went as far as lighting a few candles, pulling up a pic of George Clooney on the internet and spending some "quality" time with myself. I mean, if you can't get worked up over George Clooney then there's just no hope. Nothing. I was starting to wonder if something was wrong with me. I mean if I choose to put my shoes on then I just put my damn shoes on and it's done! That's what a choice is right? So I made one last ditch effort to understand this logic and tried to remember when it was that I chose to be attracted to girls. I mean that had to be a big day for me. Surely I'd remember making that conscious decision. Still nothing. You know why? Because it's not a fucking choice that's why!!!
I guess I went on a little tangent there but that's going to happen from time to time if you read this shit. So make your choice. You can read my blog entries or you can skip it, either way I'll understand. This won't be for everyone.
Now, shut the hell up and leave me alone. Project Runway is coming on.
