Some might say forced, I say asked.

It's interesting. This year will be the 5th anniversary of the 9/11 attacks on the WTC, The Pentagon, and a patch of green in Pennsylvania. So far, we have movies about 2 of the 3 events, one is allready in theatres (Flight 93) and one is on the way (World Trade Center). I also happen to be reading Blue Blood by Edward Conlon, which spans roughly 8 years in the life of a Harvard graduate who became an NYPD officer. Im in the last 5th of the book, and it's easy to see 9/11 looming just pages ahead.

I've heard people say they are "being forced" to relive the events, what with all the media talking about it, Moussaoui being sentenced, bones being found on nearby rooftops in downtown Manhattan...

I don't see it as being forced, I see it as being asked. Being asked to remember that entire week. From the blissful sleep I was in the midst of on the morning of 9/11 - unaware that the world outside my windows was crumbling, to the phone call that ended that. The hours of sitting in cold horror as the world outside my door came to a stop, and the screen on my tv remained fixed on one - then two burning buildings. The absolute lack of sirens in my usually busy neighborhood - the view from my bedroom window of the smoke pluming upwards and out.

The knowledge that my uncle, a New York City Fire Fighter, was probably on his way to the scene. Then finding out the next day he never left Brooklyn, being the only truck left in the area.

The entire city shut down, including the subways - which by my house were elevated. The guy from Guyana walking down the middle of a normally busy street screaming "There will be revenge, bastards!" in the middle of a very mixed neighborhood.

And still, it was a beautiful day - except when the wind shifted, and you caught a scent on the breeze.