Personal Blogs
Working from home I caught the events as they unfolded. As I had done with the Death of Diana and one of the last IRA attacks on the City of London I put a blank VHS cassette into the VCR and hit record. As the awful events unfolded I went to different channels. The two 3 hour cassettes tell a narrative quiet different to anything the news channels started to cut together as highlights (is this even the appropriate term) during the day. And when did the commercial channels stop showing commercials. Understandably this original live content shows the news channels in confusion. I guess I could and should digitise this stuff?
My last visit to the World Trade Centre I had stood, my face against the glass viewing the dots below understandably as if from a plane. From the shop on the ground floor I bought an investment banker friend who was putting me up a copy Of 'What Color's Your Parachute?' She was working at the Metropolitan Museum of Art by 2001.
There'll be the blog too; by September 2001 I'd kept a blog for two years, every day, 1,000 word minimum.
Our generation's version of the question 'what were you doing on the day JFK was shot?
Comments
New comment
When Diana died I lived with my mother in a tiny village in the middle of nowhere. We had no communication with the outside world. No TV, no newspapers, no radio. Unless we went out of town. We didn't find out for a few days, and we only found out because my cat had had kittens, and I carried one up to a distant neighbour. We dropped the kitten off, and they told us about Diana. I was too young and lacking in concern for people I did not know to have any emotion, but I could see in my mother real shock that she had ended up so out of touch. For something that didn't effect me as an event in itself, it left me with strong memories of a brief self-analysis undertaken by someone who is generally loathe to do so.