Where do I stand With 911 and what does the Flag mean to me?
Where do I stand With 911 and what does the Flag mean to me?
At 8:46 A.M Eastern time the alarm in my bedroom had just went off one minute before at 5:45 A.M. on the West Coast of California.
Like most Americans I was shocked, mortified, and ashamed and embarrassed; yes, embarrassed that we could be caught with our pants down so easily, when I was later informed by CNN that we were attacked by terrorists. At first everyone thought it was some horrible accident. I was not convinced. The circumstances were suspicious from the beginning for several reasons. Before 911 George W. was not too popular. The reasons for getting in a Middle Eastern conflict had been brewing for years. At that time 2001 World Bank needed world dominance.
I had read Behold A Pale Horse by Bill Cooper years before and listened to some of his radio broadcast.
I can’t say that I was a conspiracy theorist or anything of the like but I did hold a cautious eye on world affairs. I had been well aware of the Jihad since my late teens when I first started studying spirituality and religion. I was aware of Standard Oil supplying Hitler with fuel additives and Roosevelt's fore knowledge of Japans Pacific Fleet approaching Pearl Harbor. I was aware that Americans did not want to be involved in the War in Europe before December Seven Nineteen Forty One and that after that day of infamy over two thirds of
Americans were for the war. By the time September Eleven Two Thousand One rolled around I was anticipating that something would happen to complete World Dominance by World Bank.
Yes, there was evidence of something brewing long before 911.
There was plenty of evidence brought out later in the videos “Loose Change” and “Zeitgeist” Evidence revealed later in 2004 by Michael Moore in Fahrenheit 911.
Government conspiracies getting us involved in war was nothing new, it had been happening since mankind first congregated.
When I witnessed the attack of the first plane hitting Tower Number One; and yes while CNN analyst were still in hot debate over whether or not the plane striking the tower was an accident; I knew it was an attack. I felt it in my bones. I felt something else too. I was immediately suspicious.
Before that day I didn’t really have a clue who or what an Osama Bin Laden or an Al-Qaeda was. And at that time I only knew what the media and the Whitehouse wanted me to know.
Immediately the thought of calling Bill entered my mind. Bill was a very old and dear friend of mine. Normally I would not have been up that early (five forty five A.M. on the West Coast) unless I had an emergency job. At the time I was basically a freelancer. I was paid well enough that I only had to work when I wanted to, unless there was an emergency, then I could find myself up all night in the middle of a raging storm removing a tree from over a house. No, normally, I would have been in bed until 10:00 A.M. I know it’s terrible; I never have been much of a morning person, mornings hurt.
As I continued to hear the ringing of the phone in the ear piece, I don’t know if I am excited or terrified; a little of both I am sure. I don’t want to be excited and I immediately feel ashamed and guilty for feeling the excitement from the event currently unfolding, it was then that I thought I saw bodies jumping out of the North Tower. Suddenly I don’t hear the ringing of the phone on the other end in the ear-piece anymore; I don’t hear anything, at all except a distinct ringing in my ears. For my entire life I suffered from chronic high blood pressure; I am in shock.
I hear a familiar voice saying something from very far away; I eventually come to, to hear Bill saying;
“Hello is there anyone there, hello?!?
The scenes before me have completely captivated me. I manage to get his name out of my mouth; “B— i— ill…?”
“Tommie, is that you?”
“Bill, it’s terrible.”
“Coffee; I need coffee, what’s wrong Tommie?” Bill is yawning now and you can hear him stumbling around on his way to the kitchen. Bill lives in a Nineteen Fifty Eight Scenic Cruiser, Greyhound Bus, apparently the bus had belonged to Elvis Presley. Years before I had found the bus for him parked in a field.
My mind was now pandemonium, my thoughts were racing. My mouth felt like it was filled with glue.
“Ok, what did you wake me up for, kid?” Bill asks me, seemingly annoyed.
Bill had been my Foster Father. When I was a teenager he picked me up off the streets. I was thirteen years old. He saved my life back then.
“Plane—bodies—blown—fire—towers—building.” I stammer, not making any sense— at all— and wondering why my brain is not connecting to my mouth. “—Twin Towers, New york.” I get the words out.
“What? “Bill asks.
“World Trade Center; turn the T.V. on!”
“Breathe Tommy, breathe.” Bill says reassuringly. However I am not to be reassured.
“Turn the TV on now, Bill!” I yell
“What channel, what’s going on?” Bill sounds like he is getting upset.
“Doesn’t matter, any channel, tune to any channel!”
“Wha…? What has happened?” Bill asks, fearful now.
“Just turn the T.V. on.” I said, I was beginning to feel quite morose now. The saturnine images of debris and possibly bodies falling or jumping from the New York high rise were beginning to take a toll on me.
“God I hate mornings.” I think to myself.
Thoughts of an apocalypse were entering my mind rapidly as I continued to watch the screen in front of me where I was seated on the couch bent over holding my gut with one arm and the phone pressed tightly to my ear with my right hand.; The smoke which at first was gray-white began billowing black from Tower Number One. I had thoughts of Armageddon and World War Three. I was living in the Mid Sierra Mountain range of California about sixty miles East of Sacramento, I felt relatively safe, however I had a job that day in the Bay area (San Francisco) in San Rafael to be exact. I had visions in my mind of the Golden gate and the Oakland Bay Bridge blowing up and me with my truck and wood chipper crashing into the sea as smoke bellowed from the city when I heard Bill on the other end of the phone
“Oh! No!” Bill, on the other end of the phone, yelped, or cried. I had forgotten all about him.
Bill is convinced that it is pilot error and an accident, I did not believe that for a minute, and then the second plane hit Tower Number Two.
“Bill, You know what this means; don’t you?”
Bill and I had talked about conspiracy theories’ for years.
Taking a deep breath and letting out a sigh, I continued;
“Our lives will never be the same again.” I said to Bill, into the phone.
“What do you mean, Tommie?” Bill asks; he clearly is upset by what has been unfolding over the media screen.
More; coming soon…C.R.