I see heroes every day. I think of all those who serve in silence. I think about how I deliver the mail and bring coffee to the old lady down the hall who thinks gays are modern day pariahs. I’m gay and yet I’m the only one in the building who will talk to her. Any person who gets up every day and puts on a uniform and a badge (military, police, fire) are heroes even if they are flawed in their motives. Even in the face of 9/11, I believe no one person is completely evil. Sometimes I am shocked that I have any nievete left and yet I mutter comments like that one.

I long for the greatness that we could be and I am hopeful for a groundswell of people who believe the same. We were founded on that principle and it’s time to take our country back. It’s not too late.

- I try to think about the day when all of that horrible hatred I feel inside of me is lifted. When our long national nightmare will be over. When we will again be free of this mushroom cloud of dogma and deceit.

That’ll be when chimp and cheney and their henchmen are lead handcuffed to face trial at the Hague.

Think about it. We must have big parades planned for that day. Whenever it comes, we must really joyously celebrate that day. Because it will truly, truly be a day of liberation.

Remember the last scene of StarWars? When Luke Skywalker finally defeats the evil empire and the entire planet, the entire galaxy, erupt into a gigantic champagne guzzling boogying down party? That’ll be us.

A year later, I met a local broadcaster that had been staying in the Millennium Hotel with her husband that day. She kept calling Seattle that morning to talk to one of her radio colleagues currently on the air about what was happening, what she was seeing, etcetera. She talked to me for two hours the day I met her about what had happened to her and her family as a result of their experiences on September 11, 2001.

I think about what she told me every day. I think about the fact that she spent two hours sitting in a furniture store with someone who was a complete stranger to her, holding my hands, and tears streaming down her cheeks. I think about the kind of pain there must be for millions surrounding this day.

None of us will ever be the same as we were on September 10, 2001. I’m not sure anyone could ever accurately chronicle what happened to us, and to our country, on that day. I’m wondering how I’m going to commemmorate those that died, and those that are still suffering. One thing’s for sure, I don’t need ABC and Disney to tell me how to mourn.

-S

My other grandfather was the holiest man I have ever met in my life. He was not able to serve in WWII because of health problems, but he is the very figure of moral authority in my mind. He was strict, but fair and always taught his children and grandchildren the wonder of faith. But he was not evangelical. To him faith was a personal matter and he would talk Jesus with you all day long but he would not condemn or proselytize. He taught me respect for God and respect for other people.

They both raised children in America and loved this country more than anything. When I think of patriots or what it is to be American, I cannot help but think of the country that allowed two men to become what they did become.

Ohioan: I don’t get a chance to get on here as much as I used to. Are you working any campaigns in Ohio?

Not yet. I live in Ohio – 3, which has to have a special Democratic primary this month. I did some canvassing for Jane Mitakides in 2004, but I haven’t sorted out whether that’s the best option again this time around.