There´s a very disturbing poetry to Alejandro González Iñárritu´s short from the compilation for September 11. It´s disturbing, but also satisfying for me, because it shows the reality of the horror of that day. No sugar added. No cushion. Just an unforgettable, disturbing horror. I get the same feeling, however minutely, every time I pass by Ground Zero.
I´ll no doubt be doing some heavy thinking on Sept. 11 when I take RW1 this fall.
I wasn´t living on the East Coast when it happened, so I feel some disconnect.
I moved to L.A. in mid June 2001. About three months later, my mother, who was working in Downtown Manhattan, called me, crying, ¨Turn on the T.V., they just crashed a plane into the World Trade Center.¨
What a way to wake me up. I didn´t believe what was happening, until that second plane hit. Then I was like, ¨What should I do?¨ I felt helpless out there, 5 minutes from Disneyland. In my crummy Anaheim apartment.
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