I was off that day, sleeping late and my wife who wasn't working at the time was sleeping in with me, enjoying the togetherness that unemployment gave us.
My fucking house phone (no cell back then) was going off over and over. I finally got up and answered it. It was Mom. "Why in the fuck aren't you answering your phone? Turn on the TV. The shit is on now!"
I flipped the phone onto the couch and turned on the TV just in time to see a motherfucking plane crash into the first Tower.
WHAT IN THE FUCK????????
I ran into the bedroom, snatched Niki out of bed by the hair and yelled "We're at war!"
Her reply? "What did I do now?"
I went and filled my tanks and a 55 gallon drum with gas (fucking Arabs, never can when they're gonna cut us off) and found I was like number 97 in line.
Okay, I saw the same scene about a million times that day, felt the same way every time.
Then a week later I start hearing shit that the media was going to quit showing it because it INFLAMED feelings of hatred.
Fucking A it did. I agree with Alan Jackson. If it was up to me, I'd show it every day.
We had American flags on every house for a week or so. That was it.
My flag flew before that day and it's flown every damned day since. Matter of fact when I give directions to my house I tell them to watch for the flag. It's the only one on the street.
And that's all you're gonna hear from me on the subject.