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UPDATE- READ THIS
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Kat
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since: Mar 25, 2001
1. UPDATE- READ THIS
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As the official NY contact, I'm trying to find Bailey. All phone lines in the city of Manhattan are shut down, and all phone lines in the state of NY are incredibly busy. I've barely gotten out to call my parents or Bec. Adam, if you have Bailey's hotel number, IM it to me andI'll call, because at least our cell phones can get service once in a while. I'm trying to get in contact with people I know in NYC to see if they can find out any information for you. So far there is very little any of us can do but watch the news, wait, and hope. There have been no reports of other buildings being damaged or destroyed except for those right around the WTC buildings, and since Bailey's hotel was two blocks away, it is unlikely hers was hit at all. She's most likely inside, scared, and unable to call out. I'll try my best to get more information for you. Ians is doing alright in DC, despite the fact that the Pentagon was hit, and the state department. Georgetown is far enough away from the capitol that he will be fine. We here in Rochester are also in a state of emergency, since we have nuclear power plants that have been previously targeted during the Persian Gulf War and other military conflicts. So far, no evacuations, although all federal buildings have been closed and school was canceled. If anything happens, you will be the first to know, especially if we have to leave. But I doubt it, thank God. Unfortunately, this battle just doesn't seem quite over... and unfortunately again, Ians and I are in rather prime spots. Don't worry, though, we're doing fine and we'll let you know what's going on. I'm going to go give blood, since NY is sending out alerts to all hospitals. I should be home before 5pm my time. During then, you can call at (716)274-4987 and leave a message, or IM me, or email me.

Bailey, we're all praying for you, so stay safe.

Date: Sep 11, 2001 on 11:06 a.m.
Johan
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2. Re:UPDATE- READ THIS
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last updated at Sep 11, 2001 11:49 a.m. (1 times)
Shit. Chaos and more chaos. No one really knows what's happening anymore. Went to give blood, but have to wait for Friday when the blood drive happens. Saw the Pentagon across the river; holy shit. Nothing to compare to New York, but fuck. It's ugly. Fighter planes just buzzed my dorm. My prayers go out to everyone in the affected areas.

We will find the cowards who did this. They will pay.

God bless America.

Date: Sep 11, 2001 on 11:46 a.m.
The Jaydes
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3. Babies of the Millennium
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Babies of the Millennium

Written by The Millennium Child on September 11, 19101 at 20:41:59:

The World Trade Center. The Pentagon. These and a few other sites, attacked by terrorists. From where, it's still not entirely certain... and it doesn't matter to me. All I care about is that more babies are going to die. War. War! In this day and age. I know what the experts all say, everyone knows what they say - if and when the third World War comes about, it will be the end of the world. This cannot be a war, please, not a World War. I have beautiful, loved men in the Marines. I have suddenly realized that I love this country.

For a long period of time, none of the past generations have been able to escape large-scale violence such as what happened this day. Is it finally our turn? I was in New York only yesterday. Right next to the bay, right under the North Twin Tower. I was so close to being one of the passengers in the hijacked airliners - American Airlines, I boarded off less than twelve hours ago. Dulles Airport, for God sake. How close I came. Too close! How can I help but be afraid? I've seen the news, and I can imagine what they won't let the cameras show. Kamikaze. Suicide. Broken, burned, blooded lives. How could they hate America so much? This was a holy mission for those terrorists, to die for the murder of those mass "Satans". Those Americans. They must have known that they could not possibly defeat us in a war. But they attacked anyway, the worst attack ever known in United States history. So sickening to me. They were too full of hate to live...! But if that were true, would it also apply to those innocents who died, whose naivety disillusioned them to feel safe? Were they too innocent to live? In our extreme peace, brought about by our strength, we have inevitably become weak. How the world greets the third Millennium A.D.! And now they know, the whole world knows... that we were never invincible. So what will we do, how will we retaliate? Bomb something of theirs, right. Murder their innocents, just as they did ours. Pointless, so pointless. Why would anyone counterattack with a squirt gun if they had a glock in their pocket? But if the height of the assailant reaches barely up to one's chest, where's the justice in that? Where's the dignity of the nation? None here.

I keep thinking of those Saudis, the Palestinians, the Afghanistanis, all celebrating in their streets. Because we Americans are crying in ours. All of it for our babies. For their deaths, finally "avenged", they shout for joy. And for our deaths, so new, so many, and the fear of deaths that may yet still come, we rise up in grief and anger. All for the dead babies. But as this next generation survives and grows into this world, they will not have forgotten this morning's attack on America. Not the terrorists’ children, not ours. And after all of the dust settles, after all the aggrieved souls' memorials have been built, nothing will have changed. Nothing ever does. "The more things change, the more things stay the same." Quote. The Earth is blind to its broken, burned and blooded babies of time.

A letter by Jadyn Alba

Date: Sep 11, 2001 on 11:31 p.m.
The Jaydes
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4. Re:UPDATE- READ THIS
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Moon sent this to me. It had an impact, I just wanted to share it. I'm glad everyone's ayte. We should keep each other in touch of what's going on with everyone, right? Damn, I was worried.
Date: Sep 11, 2001 on 11:36 p.m.
Solenis
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5. Re:UPDATE- READ THIS
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Prayer service for the nation today. I have a suggestion.

~~~~~~~~~
The service proceeded; a war chapter from the Old Testament was read; the first prayer was said; it was followed by an organ burst that shook the building, and with one impulse the house rose, with glowing eyes and beating hearts, and poured out that tremendous invocation :

God the all-terrible! Thou who ordainest! Thunder thy clarion and lightning thy sword!

Then came the "long" prayer. None could remember the like of it for passionate pleading and moving and beautiful language. The burden of its supplication was, that an ever-merciful and benignant Father of us all would watch over our noble young soldiers, and aid, comfort, and encourage them in their patriotic work; bless them, shield them in the day of battle and the hour of peril, bear them in His mighty hand, make them strong and confident, invincible in the bloody onset; help them to crush the foe, grant to them and to their flag and country imperishable honor and glory.

An aged stranger entered and moved with slow and noiseless step up the main aisle, his eyes fixed upon the minister, his long body clothed in a robe that reached to his feet, his head bare, his white hair descending in a frothy cataract to his shoulders, his seamy face unnaturally pale, pale even to ghastliness. With all eyes following him and wondering, he made his silent way; without pausing, he ascended to the preacher's side and stood there waiting. With shut lids the preacher, unconscious of his presence, continued with his moving prayer, and at last finished it with the words, uttered in fervent appeal, "Bless our arms, grant us the victory, O Lord our God, Father and Protector of our land and flag!"

The stranger touched his arm, motioned him to step aside -- which the startled minister did -- and took his place. During some moments he surveyed the spellbound audience with solemn eyes, in which burned an uncanny light; then in a deep voice he said:

"I come from the Throne -- bearing a message from Almighty God!" The words smote the house with a shock; if the stranger perceived it he gave no attention.

"He has heard the prayer of His servant your shepherd, and will grant it if such shall be your desire after I, His messenger, shall have explained to you its import -- that is to say, its full import. For it is like unto many of the prayers of men, in that it asks for more than he who utters it is aware of -- except he pause and think.

"God's servant and yours has prayed his prayer. Has he paused and taken thought? Is it one prayer? No, it is two -- one uttered, the other not. Both have reached the ear of Him Who heareth all supplications, the spoken and the unspoken. Ponder this -- keep it in mind. If you would beseech a blessing upon yourself, beware! lest without intent you invoke a curse upon a neighbor at the same time. If you pray for the blessing of rain upon your crop which needs it, by that act you are possibly praying for a curse upon some neighbor's crop which may not need rain and can be injured by it.

"You have heard your servant's prayer -- the uttered part of it. I am commissioned of God to put into words the other part of it -- that part which the pastor -- and also you in your hearts -- fervently prayed silently. And ignorantly and unthinkingly? God grant that it was so!

"You heard these words: 'Grant us the victory, O Lord our God!' That is sufficient. the whole of the uttered prayer is compact into those pregnant words. Elaborations were not necessary. When you have prayed for victory you have prayed for many unmentioned results which follow victory -- must follow it, cannot help but follow it. Upon the listening spirit of God fell also the unspoken part of the prayer. He commandeth me to put it into words. Listen!

""O Lord our Father, our young patriots, idols of our hearts, go forth to battle -- be Thou near them! With them -- in spirit -- we also go forth from the sweet peace of our beloved firesides to smite the foe.

O Lord our God, help us to tear their soldiers to bloody shreds with our shells.

Help us to cover their smiling fields with the pale forms of their patriot dead.

Help us to drown the thunder of the guns with the shrieks of their wounded, writhing in pain.

Help us to lay waste their humble homes with a hurricane of fire.

Help us to wring the hearts of their unoffending widows with unavailing grief.

Help us to turn them out roofless with little children to wander unfriended the wastes of their desolated land in rags and hunger and thirst, sports of the sun flames of summer and the icy winds of winter, broken in spirit, worn with travail, imploring Thee for the refuge of the grave and denied it.

For our sakes who adore Thee, Lord, blast their hopes. Blight their lives. Protract their bitter pilgrimage. Make heavy their steps. Water their way with their tears.

Stain the white snow with the blood of their wounded feet.

We ask it, in the spirit of love, of Him Who is the Source of Love, and Who is the ever-faithful refuge and friend of all that are sore beset and seek His aid with humble and contrite hearts. Amen.

"Ye have prayed it. If ye still desire it, speak! The messenger of the most High awaits."

It was believed afterward that the man was a lunatic, because there was no sense in what he said.

-Mark Twain

Date: Sep 14, 2001 on 05:34 a.m.
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