9 11 Recalled 2026

K called from Florida, "Planes crashed into the World Trade Center and one of the towers just fell." Unemployed in Los Angeles and half asleep at 7:30 AM, I shuffled downstairs to the TV, past Joy as she prepared for work. At first, all I saw was a dirty cloud obscuring southern Manhattan. Then a stunned announcer said the second tower had just collapsed. Joy joined me, work forgotten as we learned of the attack.

Other friends phoned throughout the day. Paul Rugg speculated about the pilots of the doomed aircraft, certain they weren't Americans forced to crash. TJ, a Vietnam vet, was incensed at the footage of jubilant Palestinians with their candy and AK-47s. He wished he could gift them with a nice buttering of napalm. In a grim mood, I agreed.

Watching TV and power-chewing Nicorette, I mostly felt numb — except when the subject was jumpers. Then I felt horror. Go to work, sip coffee, joke with your pals, then decide whether you'll suffocate, burn alive, or leap a quarter mile to certain death. Questions of etiquette arise: jump solo or hold hands with a co-worker? Perhaps several of you link arms and form a chain, finding courage in numbers. Or do you clutch a table cloth and step into the air, desperately hoping it slows your fall?



The journey takes ten seconds.


Air velocity rips away your shoes.


You explode on impact.


I will always be haunted by the jumpers of 9/11.


Oceans of paper were blasted from the towers, filling the New York sky like the Devil's ticker tape. Invoices and wedding invitations floated down to gray sidewalks.

My friend Cathy, who worked in D.C., reported chaos as the government sent everyone home at once following the Pentagon attack. One jammed intersection turned scary as a man leaped out of an SUV brandishing a pistol and attempting to direct traffic.

Being murdered is not a heroic act, though it can be. Flight 93 passengers fought back and died, saving many more in their sacrifice. North Tower Port Authority employees rescued over 70 people before perishing.


There were many heroes that day.

My sister Mary Pat and I had dinner at a coffee shop. She was passing through town, leaving a job in Mountain View, CA to return to Phoenix. Depressed by the day's events, our meal was not jolly.

Later, Joy tried to give blood, but the hospital was overwhelmed with donations and refused.

Vulnerability, grief, dismay, anger.

Such a beautiful morning with a sky so blue.

(Photos from: Little Green Footballs.)

Repost: Sept. 11, 2008

Update: Strange to reread this. TJ died in 2009 and K passed away just over a year ago. My wife, Joy, and I are doing well, as is Paul Rugg who now rides the train. 

Repost: Sept. 11, 2013

Update: I had cancer surgery last year, but recovered. My wife is doing well and my sister battles her own health woes. I have not heard from my friend Cathy in a few years.  Paul Rugg continues riding the train in addition to being a voice over machine.

Repost: Sept. 11, 2015

Update: Paul Rugg's daughter was not quite two years old on 9/11/01. Now she is a freshmen in college. I have retired from TV animation writing, though, as stated elsewhere, I find retirement to be indistinguishable from unemployment. (Save for a small annuity.) And very soon, I shall ride the train to see my sister. (Explanatory post t/k.)

Repost: Sept. 11, 2017

Update: Ten years have passed since I composed this post, 17 years since the incident. Alas, the greatest hit to our nation continues to be a colossal security apparatus that can't seem to function without monitoring everyone's communications, then lying about it. I'd rather not comment on airport theater. Still, my wife remains gainfully employed and I'm racing to complete a dystopian thriller by Christmas. Amidst the great events, the little things carry us forward.

Repost: Sept. 11, 2018

Update: About to publish a softcover version of my prostate book. Meanwhile the Afghanistan Forever War continues. I refuse to believe that for almost 20 years, there's been no better way of fighting the Taliban than sending billions to Pakistan to provide hiding places for them while they infiltrate Afghan government forces and assassinate our advisors. The Byzantine Empire lasted over a thousand years battling multiple enemies on different fronts, employing a combination of diplomacy military prowess, and strategic alliances. With the entrenched, consequence-proof dimwits we have infesting Washington D.C., we'll probably end up surrendering to the Taliban.

Repost: Sept. 11, 2019

Update: How odd to stand on the threshold of twenty years. Given the riots and chaos of the pandemic, the blithering repose of local government re. small-business-killing lockdowns, the event is passing with barely a mention. If I hadn't spotted a NatGeo special on the Twin Towers, I might've forgotten myself. Interesting health issue, with cataract surgery, an upcoming new crown—for a tooth—and the results of a biopsy for skin cancer. Paul Rugg works on a Henson TV show, and his daughter nears the end of her undergrad studies. My sister continues on with NPR in the unburned portion of the Pacific Northwest. I will publish a book of my short stories by Christmas. Joy's work will soon restore her full pay, slashed during the lockdowns. Since South Dakota never locked down at all, shouldn't their population be deader than the Sioux at Wounded Knee? Not all experts are experts.  

Repost: Sept. 11, 2020

Update: 

What I wrote sarcastically in 2019 came true. A devastating mortifying defeat. 

Repost: Sept. 11, 2021

Update: Paul Rugg's daughter was recently married. Paul and his wife are moving to Virginia to be somewhat near her. I've just finished a book on my thirteen-year journey to run a marathon and am preparing for a trip to Tennessee. Perhaps I'll also depart from the once Golden State, a large garbage can with palm trees.

Repost: Sept. 11, 2022

Update: When I hear politicians say we'll stay in Ukraine "as long as it takes," I wonder if it'll be 20 years and end in a disorganized rout that makes the withdrawal from Vietnam seem dignified. Paul lives in Virginia when he's not traveling to various comic-cons and hobnobbing with fans from his distinguished animation career. Joy and I just returned from Ireland with fond memories and COVID. I'm working on a book about our pilgrimage.  

Repost: Sept. 11, 2023

 

Update: Paul Rugg is now a grandfather. My sister Mary passed away last month from multiple myeloma. Joy's elderly father is entering his third month in the hospital from what-should've-been a routine hip replacement. I've now got a stent in one artery as well as recovering from a huge skin cancer operation on my sun dappled. nose. Not much income these days on the 25th Anniversary of 9 11. But things could change.

 

Repost: Sept. 11, 2026 

 

 

Phoenix New Times Tribute to Mary McCann

Jon Gipe/Phoenix New Times archives

 The Bone Mama!

So Long Bone Mama Mary McCann

 

Mary McCann at work.

 

And away went my sister after a two year struggle with Multiple Myeloma. I like to think of death by cancer along the lines of the late comedian Norm MacDonald. He felt saying someone "lost their battle with cancer" was branding the deceased a loser. Norm stated that when the body died, so did the cancer. Hence, the final accounting was more along the lines of a tie. 

Mary McCann tied cancer, packing more life into her years than many. As the Bone Mama, she was the voice of Phoenix radio in the 80s and 90s and ended her years behind the mike playing jazz out of Tacoma, Washington on KNKX. 

God rest your soul and may perpetual line shine upon you, my dearest Mary. 

Here is a link to her memorial page.

Illness and Woe

Not Mine Personally 

(Though I complain often enough)

Sadly, my sister is nearing terminal stage with blood cancer and my father-in-law has smashed his hip to pieces and acquired a bad infection in the process. I  do what I can when I can.  But infirmity and the Big Sleep await us all. Hence, slovenly blog host that I am, I will be posting even less for the near  future. Hope you all are doing well.

 

 

Happy Independence Day v.3

 

(Updated my runs and will note I've now passed the blogmark of 20 years and a million visits. My running, due to health issues, has been reduced to walking. My weight has ballooned. But I've been there before. My writing is a series of short-story rejections. I've also been there before. More t/k. 

 

I've been a slob, a loafer of the first rank in ignoring this blog. And here I stand, on the brink of 20 years of continuous posts to a select audience. Nevertheless, I present a sampling of past July 4s (and a 5).

The Onion

Memorable July 4th Events

Thanks to the Founding Fathers for sticking their necks out and declaring independence when it was unclear they could back up such a deed. (I recommend David McCullough's book 1776 if you wish to read how the British kicked the American army off Long Island, chased George Washington from New York, and came very close to mopping up his ragged little force.)

History aside, here are several recollections from July 4th past: 

5Ks   

Mark up another one today. (Only 3 miles.) Ran around the golf course at Griffith Park along the soft dirt bridal trails where you rarely see a horse while maneuvering past their rounded droppings. Felt good, no injuries, taking it very slow. In the past, there have been runs and walks in:

2007

2010, 2015, 2019, 2021, 2022, 2023

5th of July Party 1981

Close enough for a list. This epic bash saw an entire Hollywood apartment building unite in pursuit of a drunken bash that began around 11:00 AM at the pool, spread from the building, down the block to a bar, back to the building and inside an apartment where it continued until the cops showed up at 3:00 AM. My recollections are fuzzy due to age and staggering drunkenness.

1986

This year, repairs were finally completed on the Statue of Liberty and there was to be a big televised event with more fireworks than Saturday night in the barrio. An old improv friend invited me to a party down near the beach. I'd once had a crush on Lisa. She reluctantly informed me of her gayness. But I still didn't give up, as I'd met women before who were "gay for a day." In any case, Lisa's party was lesbian central. Out of 22 women, only three were straight. One was ill and left early, the other nursed a bad sunburn, and I didn't hit it off with the third. No matter. We all had a grand time watching fireworks over the ocean off Santa Monica. The following year, Lisa moved to Sedona, Arizona with a girlfriend, bought a house, and waited for UFOs to circle Coffee Pot Rock. (I could be wrong about the last part.)

1976

Bi-centennial. A big deal. My sister was attending Western Illinois University. Out in the cornfields, near the Mississippi River, not far from Iowa, stood the little town of Basco. There they made their own fireworks and put on a patriotic pageant every 4th. My girlfriend and I, my sister, and her friends attended. We ended up trashed in some field drinking Grain Belt Beer and watching the fireworks crackle. We all bought tee-shirts that said "Basco 1976." I drove back to the farmhouse my sister was renting, hunched over the wheel, barely able to see.

Horror Book Discount Continues

That's about all the July 4th memories I can salvage for the day , but there's always time to flog a book. Through today and ending Tue. July 5th, Hallow Mass continues to be available in Kindle form for under three dollars. Cool off with a nice chilling horror tale of old grudges, new terrors, and unadorned sorcery. A pleasant weekend to all! 

Happy 4th of July!

 250 and Counting!

A fine Independence Day!

Festive Fun! 

wallpaper.com

 

When Dinosaurs Ruled the Stage

 

Flashback Fun 

 

GRACE Ballet

Black and White TV Asks About Life on Other Planets

When I'm 64

A charming peek at a lost time.

ABC News in-depth

Freakazoid Scoring Session 1996

Back Before Everyone Had a Camera Glued to Their Hand 

 

 

 

Paul Rugg's Froynlaven 

Writer Beware Spots the Scams

 Grift in the Publishing Industry?

 Sadly, yes, and Writer Beware helps to pinpoint the publishing-agenting-AI schemes that attempt to part writers from their money and rights. Give it a peek. You owe it to yourself.

 

Gifdb.com

 

 

 

Readers Prefer Books—For Now

 Ebooks, Phone and Audio On The Rise 

Such is the state of reading preferences according to Pew Research. I still prefer a fine hardcover or paperback. It's one less daily screen for my eyes to fix upon. 

 

bookartwork.com

 

Substack Explained in Brief

 Intriguing place, this Substack, alive with many facets. A social media replacement? A platform for fiction? Go here to discover more: https://tinyurl.com/mw6dx8k9. I have and don't regret it.

freepik.com

 

Hero Boy Anime Parody Celebrated in Song

Up in the Skies, He Flies Around

Yes, he does, that Hero Boy. Alas, upon landing he stinks at battling oversized monsters and is laughed at by all. This minor character from the animated series Freakazoid! was recently gifted with his own song, courtesy of Suno AI. A parody of Astro Boy, young Hero Boy rates a tune. Listen and decide. 

 

50 Publishers Not Requiring Agency Submissions

dreamstime.com

Writers! You Are Free!

Submit That Manuscript Today!

Get that fantasy novel off the computer and out the door without someone else's approval. This can be good and bad, but if you lack representation or can't get any movement out of your agent then these 50 + spots await your pages. In a stunning binary move, some publishers also accept non-fiction. Hence, all tales are free to seek a home. 

 

Penning Short Stories Absorbs Me

So I haven't queried any of these publishers just yet. But experience dictates that their slush piles are  immense, equaling long response times. But that could be just what you need to start your next book, finishing around the time the first publisher responds. (That's why many authors self-publish, but less on that today.) They are all free-of-charge. Beware publishers that ask for money.

So go-do-experience.

  

 

 

Markets Galore at Publishing . . . And Other Forms of Insanity

Are These Fiction, Non-Fiction, and Poetry Markets? 

By the Fulsome Beard of St. Crispin, They Are Indeed! 

 

dreamstime.com

A pause in writing as I prepare to send out a brace of short stories. Naturally, I visited Erica Verrillo's Publishing . . .And Other Forms of Insanity. A dense blog stuffed with literary markets of all kinds, primarily paying ones, as well as agents and book publishers open to submissions, and literary contests of all varieties. There's more, but go-see-discover. 

 

This is my first stop when lining up a market. If you're a writer, give it a go.

 

NOTE: I've been informed that the image is not that of St. Crispin, but jolly old St. Nick. In any case, the beard remains fulsome. 

Happy Easter!

WallpaperCave.com

 

Up From Indolence: Down with Runnng

People Magazine

 Here's a runner who is 100 years old and still going. I'm much younger, but I have the strength and endurance of a 200 year old man. I read my notebooks from years past and find the same issues: erratic training pattern, weight gain, ignoring core and stretching. 

So far, I've been striving for consistency, running and walking 3x a week. Today will mark the third week in a row that I've been hitting the pavement. l travel a bit over two miles each outing and that's good enough for now. 

Nothing noticeably amiss with my heart. My next goal is to run three miles an outing before aging up to the century mark. 

Talking Armenian Bobble Heads

Armenian Bobble Heads

 

 

 

 

 

I was in a car wash the other day, owned and staffed by Armenians. They had this merch for sale. Fascinating. I say no more, for what is there to add?
 

Focus Group Fun with an Intergalactic Bounty Hunter

 

Lobo at His Most Charming

looper.com

 

What the Children Saw

As I understand it, they were pleased. For more info on the ups and downs of a Lobo animated TV series, check out my 3-part blog post.

 

Lobo Promo for Animated TV Series

 

Lobo at His Most Charming

looper.com

 

Found in a Box in VHS Format 

This brief promo was created to spark interest in D.C.'s Lobo debuting as a animated TV series on the WB Network in the fall of 1999. So close it came. On Wednesday, I'll post the focus group tape. 

 

A written version of Lobo's rise and demise is contained in my 3-part blog post. 

 

Run Down

 Skin cancer and heart arrythmia issues arose toward the end of last September. My running went by the boards as I faced two different operations, numerous tests and procedures; basically transforming the fall into a medical carousel. 

All is mostly well right now. I'm overweight, on blood thinners, and lacking in all suppleness. But it's not too late to begin once more. 

Tenor

 

  

Blue City Blues Got You Down?

 Toying about with Suno AI and crafted this little ditty about a sardonic search for a better life. The lyrics are mine as well as the bluegrass prompt and the call for a male baritone lead singer. The computer threw the rest together. 

Over a Million Views!!!

 

JustMaths

 

Twenty years have passed and I've finally cracked the big million. I knew if I ignored the blog long enough people would come. That makes no sense, but I've been away undergoing medical experiences of various kinds and have returned to see Write Enough! burst the million mark. Who needs the searing lash of logic on such an excellent day?