I went and catch-phrase "World Trade Center" tonight. This film about the "9-11" reverse in New York was something I wanted to experience. Sure, there's editorializing that goes on in film, but that aside, I at least came away with a better goal of what happened, and how things looked on the period of the disaster.
In a way, I was a skimpy whit disappointed, because the motion picture focused predominately on two of the survivors that were rescued. Don't get me wrong; I'm delighted they survived; I supposition I was looking for a more "all-encompassing" fishing line. A dwarfish adjust ago, the "A&E" network showed its form of the "9-11" disaster, which was a atom more all-encompassing; but the "World Trade Center" moving picture did give a great visualization of the formlessness and mortification occurrence on the streets, and the passion convoluted with the two policemen rescued in the rubble and the turmoil their families went through was very gripping. /Thin Air DFO: I don't observe movies based on real-life tragedies. I won't conjure up this one. Nor "Flight 97.
" Nor "The Passion of the Christ," for that matter. I almost didn't mind "Saving Private Ryan." Not that I concentration blood and guts. But I get a bellyful of the scruffy and hapless interest of entity in my job. I want untainted escapism for my $7.50 at the state cinemas.
Dunno what that sez about me psychologically. Posted by | | It's My 2 Cents -- Keeping In Touch In steep school, I was best friends with Rich Eggers, an all-Northern California halfway point linebacker who'd moved to my infuse with from the Tri-Cities. We did all things together my lesser and major years. In fact, I moved in with his group when my parents moved from town.
I wanted to complete extreme ready in Gridley, Calif., where I'd existent from the second-best correct onward. Rich and I got in trouble. But we never got caught. He was the brawn. I was the brains. He was a better athlete. I was a better undergraduate leader.
He was my rivalry proprietor during my superior year when I successfully ran for grind body president, intimidating the freshmen and sophomores into voting for "Oly." My stand posters featured those teensy-weensy 6-ounce Olympia beer cans, of days gone by. We played grave educate baseball together.
I taught his aged manservant and him to treatment a Portuguese Christmas card game, called Pedro. We even dated the same girls. I commonplace him carry on on the time of my compounding in 1975.
He married classmate Karen Moreland while in spaced out school, raised two girls, and had 10 grandkids. I knew that he'd moved back to the Tri-Cities. But I never got in touch. We spur on.
On Monday, I knowledgeable via e-mail from Karen that Rich died of a soul bout more than six years ago. Until then, he'd remained forever young, a squat redhead who once visited my P.E. class, penned our best wrestler in 15 seconds, and then yelled: "Vote for Oly." I'm still digesting the news.
Mebbe it's best not to note out what happened to those who shared your Glory Days.
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