It’s an anniversary again, not one I’m particularly joyous of celebrating.  It’s been nine years since men, claiming wrongly to act on the auspice of their religion, hit targets in New York and Washington D.C. and were prevented from fulfilling their mission in Pennsylvania.

I still make no claim to understanding it–what corruption of mind made those actions acceptable.

And I still step back into the memory of my college room. Crazy as it may sound I hope to not forget those feelings.  That day, like today, it was a bright, sunny, September fall day.

Now, 9 years later, the memory is being manipulated. There are political rallies today and, somewhere, book burnings. Maybe not the ones that were planned and announced on the news–but they’ll still happen, some of them supposedly under the name of religion. Copies of the Koran already stolen from library shelves, smuggled out between romances and best sellers, set aflame. Don’t believe me? Ask your public librarian in a couple of weeks if they’ve had to replace their copies, along with the Bibles that regularly walk out. Burning books, attempting to prevent access to a religious text, won’t take us back, it won’t prevent the towers falling, it won’t prevent people misusing religious texts–no matter what text it be.

I’m going home in about ten days. I need to go down to Ground Zero.

I wonder if there will be a Rolling Requiem again next year. I’ll have to check with Lex and see if he’s leading a group. If so, hopefully he’ll have room for an extra soprano.