Remembrance . . .

There are few in this country and very few in this city of New York for whom the terrorist attacks of last Tuesday, September 11 did not have a significant impact.  Such a tragedy changes the way we look at the world, sometimes changes the way we look at ourselves, and many of us will never be the same.  I was one of the many who sat glued to television screens as we watched the Twin Towers of New York City crumble and fall; one of the many who had a loved one working inside when the planes hit; one of the many who spent what seemed like an eternity calling, waiting, not getting a response.

I was one of the lucky ones.  My loved one came home.  Still, there are many more, still waiting, still hoping to hear something about family and friends who remain missing.  And even those of us who got good news that day, and even those of them who survived, will forever remember the horror unleashed upon this country last week.  We will remember, and we will try to deal with those memories and pray that somehow, someway, nothing like this will ever happen again.

The following is an excerpt from some thoughts penned by someone very close to me.  It depicts a lot of what many of us are going through right now and are going to be dealing with for some time to come.

"It is now one week after the attack on the World Trade Center.  I am still numb, still in shock, still disbelieving.  No matter how often I see the images on the television replaying the attack, and regardless of the fact that I saw it with my own eyes, a part of me still does not accept that this has really happened to me.  My world has changed, but my mind has not caught up with it—my mind simply wants everything the way it was.  I have strong images of my life before the disaster; the very pen I am using is from my old desk that no longer exists.  All that is left of the structure I was in a week ago is rubble and space and smoke.

I have not even begun to accept the human loss and the tragedy because a part of me cannot let them go.  When I hear the tragic stories my heart breaks over and over again… for people I do not know.  Now all I can do for the ones I do know is sit numbly and replay our interactions.  Feel guilty about every ‘not nice’ thing ever said.  Regret not having known them better.  I cried for them last week; I cried from my heart, the only way I know how.  Now I am weeping inside—though I have not accepted that they have died.  I saw them too often, talked to them too much, heard them in my office too much.  I sat with my supervisor t! ! oo often for him to be gone just like that.  He was a good person, very caring and very sensitive at heart.  As a good person he stayed behind to make sure we all got out, and he sacrificed himself for us.  Somewhere in Long Island his wife and daughter whom he was so proud of grieve for him.  I grieve for him.  He deserved better than this for all he gave.  They all did.  They did not deserve to die this way.”

They did not deserve to die this way.  The best thing we can do now for them, the best way to pay tribute, is to remember them well, and to celebrate the lives of those that remain.

Malik King
Technical Trading Analyst
King Investors, Inc.