Category :
Here are some advertisements from 9/12. The meaning of these advertisements changes within a few hours on 9/11.
The advertisement reads: "Think New York's been cleaned up? You should see what we've done for vodka".
During my visit to New York City in August 2004, I noticed that this billboard was still in place but the tagline in it had mysteriously changed to "Distilled five times. Once for each Borough."
The advertisement reads:"Stella Artois: Sip from History Untarnished".
This is the makeshift memorial that was put together on 14th street and Avenue A. Someone literally painted the mural overnight. The next morning on 9/12, there were already flowers, candles, messages, and other items surrounding the mural. People visited this mural for weeks afterwards, each time bringing a candle, or some other item.
Category :
I think the biggest cruelty of life is felt at times right after a traumatic event. Usually what hurts most is not the event itself. What hurts most is that the next day almost like clockwork, the sun rises, clouds drift calmly in the sky, even birds fly overhead singing completely inappropriately happy tunes.
The morning of 9/12 was no different. I woke up and I did not remember the events of the day before; it seemed that I could have had a bad dream from last night's dinner at Sushi Samba. I headed to the bathroom for my shower. In the shower, I accidentally knocked one of my shampoo bottles and it fell onto another one, and soon several of my shampoo bottles were tumbling down into the bathtub. Right at that moment a ZING went through my head; the events of the day before came rushing back and before I knew it I was crying.
That moment did not last long however, just like it came, it went. I had a calm breakfast in front of the TV while the network TV replayed the planes crashing into the towers and towers falling down sequences more times than one can count. Later in the morning, I called my parents on the phone. They were telling to jump on the first plane and return to Istanbul. They had a point but somehow in the back of my head, it seemed this would be admitting defeat completely. I was not ready to go anywhere yet, let alone all the way back to Turkey.
After lunch, this staying at home and watching the news thing got quite boring. I was craving to go outside. I finally pulled myself together and left the apartment. I soon found out that most of the streets going downtown were blocked by the police. I had a camera in my hand, just in case I saw anything worth capturing. At the same time, as soon as I left my building, having a camera in my hand felt inappropriate.
The streets were full of people walking around in a daze. Everyone was gravitating towards the downtown but we all could not go past South of Houston. I was not the only one with a camera. Overnight, Manhattanites all had morphed into photographer/news journalist. People were out with their camcorders, fancy digital cameras, and some with cameras like mine a 28-year-old Olympus. Perhaps it was easier to approach the situation as an event to be photographed, captured. Perhaps by playing the journalist, these people were able to avoid feeling like the victims. Perhaps these were a bunch of greedy people who at the wake of thousand others were trying to make a buck from the pain of others. Perhaps all of the above.
I must have walked up and down Houston several times that day. The street was closed to traffic, and there were no cars in sight. Instead, there were huge dump trucks, and other construction equipment lined up on both sides of the road. Every now and then a fire truck would rush on by screaming with its sirens. Everyone in the street would stop and start clapping and cheering for the firefighters. On one hand it seemed to be the right thing to do given our helplessness at the time, on the other it was just absurd to be applauding a bunch of a people going in to a disaster zone.
Other rescue workers were grouping around their vehicles and getting ready to go to the site now called "ground zero." These workers had overnight turned into instant celebrities. Every civilian on the street was clamoring for a good photo of the rescue workers. Getting a photo of a firefighter was even better.
New Yorkers who have always hated the tourists in New York had overnight turned into tourists in their own city. I soon noticed I was doing was many others were doing: Anytime I came by a street that was north south oriented, I was taking a picture. Each of these streets was closed with a barricade and several officers and national guard standing by screening people. Only people with identification that clearly showed and address in the barricaded area were allowed through.
Usually in these pictures there would be two large towers protruding behind the usual SoHo buildings. But today, there was a tower of smoke like a big rainstorm had exploded downtown releasing a large cloud of mist over the financial district.
The streets were crawling with people but there was silence in the air. It seemed like everyone was mourning. Several people still had tears in their eyes as they looked southward to where the towers used to be. The air smelled like someone had burned hundreds of computers, cables, industrial carpeting in one big fire. The wind no longer blew towards Brooklyn, it blew North towards uptown on 9/12. There was something else in this smell. Something I have never smelled before. It was very unpleasant and I did not even dare to think about what it could be.
Occasionally we would see a large dump truck filled with debris roll by. It was clear, the towers were gone. They were reduced to mangled steel, dust, and things that did not even have any recognizable shape or size to them anymore.
The morning of 9/12 was no different. I woke up and I did not remember the events of the day before; it seemed that I could have had a bad dream from last night's dinner at Sushi Samba. I headed to the bathroom for my shower. In the shower, I accidentally knocked one of my shampoo bottles and it fell onto another one, and soon several of my shampoo bottles were tumbling down into the bathtub. Right at that moment a ZING went through my head; the events of the day before came rushing back and before I knew it I was crying.
That moment did not last long however, just like it came, it went. I had a calm breakfast in front of the TV while the network TV replayed the planes crashing into the towers and towers falling down sequences more times than one can count. Later in the morning, I called my parents on the phone. They were telling to jump on the first plane and return to Istanbul. They had a point but somehow in the back of my head, it seemed this would be admitting defeat completely. I was not ready to go anywhere yet, let alone all the way back to Turkey.
After lunch, this staying at home and watching the news thing got quite boring. I was craving to go outside. I finally pulled myself together and left the apartment. I soon found out that most of the streets going downtown were blocked by the police. I had a camera in my hand, just in case I saw anything worth capturing. At the same time, as soon as I left my building, having a camera in my hand felt inappropriate.
The streets were full of people walking around in a daze. Everyone was gravitating towards the downtown but we all could not go past South of Houston. I was not the only one with a camera. Overnight, Manhattanites all had morphed into photographer/news journalist. People were out with their camcorders, fancy digital cameras, and some with cameras like mine a 28-year-old Olympus. Perhaps it was easier to approach the situation as an event to be photographed, captured. Perhaps by playing the journalist, these people were able to avoid feeling like the victims. Perhaps these were a bunch of greedy people who at the wake of thousand others were trying to make a buck from the pain of others. Perhaps all of the above.
I must have walked up and down Houston several times that day. The street was closed to traffic, and there were no cars in sight. Instead, there were huge dump trucks, and other construction equipment lined up on both sides of the road. Every now and then a fire truck would rush on by screaming with its sirens. Everyone in the street would stop and start clapping and cheering for the firefighters. On one hand it seemed to be the right thing to do given our helplessness at the time, on the other it was just absurd to be applauding a bunch of a people going in to a disaster zone.
Other rescue workers were grouping around their vehicles and getting ready to go to the site now called "ground zero." These workers had overnight turned into instant celebrities. Every civilian on the street was clamoring for a good photo of the rescue workers. Getting a photo of a firefighter was even better.
New Yorkers who have always hated the tourists in New York had overnight turned into tourists in their own city. I soon noticed I was doing was many others were doing: Anytime I came by a street that was north south oriented, I was taking a picture. Each of these streets was closed with a barricade and several officers and national guard standing by screening people. Only people with identification that clearly showed and address in the barricaded area were allowed through.
Usually in these pictures there would be two large towers protruding behind the usual SoHo buildings. But today, there was a tower of smoke like a big rainstorm had exploded downtown releasing a large cloud of mist over the financial district.
The streets were crawling with people but there was silence in the air. It seemed like everyone was mourning. Several people still had tears in their eyes as they looked southward to where the towers used to be. The air smelled like someone had burned hundreds of computers, cables, industrial carpeting in one big fire. The wind no longer blew towards Brooklyn, it blew North towards uptown on 9/12. There was something else in this smell. Something I have never smelled before. It was very unpleasant and I did not even dare to think about what it could be.
Occasionally we would see a large dump truck filled with debris roll by. It was clear, the towers were gone. They were reduced to mangled steel, dust, and things that did not even have any recognizable shape or size to them anymore.
My original unedited e mail message from that day:
9/12/2001 3:07 AM
Sorry for my general absence from e mail. I had a VERY close encounter with today's events. I am sending you all a CC of my account that I sent out to Friends and Family tonight:
Hi, I wanted to send out another message briefing you all on the new details and some corrections. First off, I am ok and unharmed by the World Trade Center Disaster.
My earlier message today: I was in a daze when I wrote the first message, I was not 30 blocks away, I was 10-20 blocks away on the hudson river side walking still towards the two towers when the South Tower collapsed. I was right around the Holland tunnel ventilation shafts.
The Experience:
I go through WTC everyday around 9 AM to transfer from NR subway trains to the Path trains that make me to my office in Exchange Place (NJ shore of Hudson river). I overslept this morning so I was running 30 mins late. I was rushing to work around 9 and I noticed smoke in the air blowing towards Brooklyn, but it did not occur to me that it could be WTC. I got onto my first subway train and then made it to my transfer station and got on the second train that takes me to WTC Path trains. There was something blaring on the intercom but there always is, so I did not think much of it. We made it to 8th street station and I finally got it, the Train was not going to make to WTC, something was up. I got out, somewhat angry that I was going to be late to work AGAIN! As I was walking towards the ferries on the hudson side I saw the two towers on fire. Apparently when I was going into the subway only one of them was on fire. By the time I got out and started walking, the second impact had occurred.
My own behavior did not make sense at the time. A group of people along with me were walking/running TOWARD the towers until one of them collapsed. When something like this happens you do not realize how serious it all is. I was still trying to go to work thinking, oh great now I have to take the ferry.
As I got closer to the towers (the ferry stations are in that area too), it became evident that this was not a movie. Tons of paper were flying out of the North tower (it was a VERY windy day to start with). Half way through my walk something took over and I was sobbing for no reason. There is nothing comparable to seeing one of the world's largest buildings on fire. Once I saw the South tower collapsed, I woke up from my dazed walk towards the towers. Until then I was just unable to take my eyes off of the towers to realize that I was putting myself in jeopardy by approaching. Just around this time I met with the wave of hundreds of people walking away from the towers towards North. When the buildings fell, the smoke and debris in the air was UNBELIEVABLE. The force of the buildings falling down pulled down a whole bunch of air which let all of us at the scene see the skyline without the two towers. It looked like major after effects digital video editing work only it was real. I still can not believe the news that keeps saying that there were no bombs in the buildings. They fell down so elegantly, mostly caving into themselves like they have been imploded by an professional deconstruction company.
A lot of us started running uptown to beat the storm of dust coming our way. And hope was with us until the last moment, the second tower was still standing, it was ok, one tower was still better than none. Then the second one fell, and you should have heard us all on the streets. Crying, in anger, in tears, totally overwhelmed just by the visual impact of what was happening. I found myself saying "game over"... it was over, it really was. Thousands of people walked home today at noon, all transportation, all bridges, all subways, all path subways, all ferries were shut down.
I have seen several "mud people" walking to their homes in a state of absolute shock and disbelief. I was able to avoid the dust.
All streets are empty right now, and there are ambulances and emergency vehicles ferrying patients north to uptown hospitals. The downtown hospitals are only used for EXTREME cases. I have seen several people on the streets with scratched and scarred faces.
All restaurants, all stores are closed. I was out tonight to get dinner (yes some restaurants were open), everyone is talking about this and strange thing is, in a town where everyone is a stranger, no one is a stranger right now. You can really talk to anyone and they will discuss the details of today and where they were and what they felt, and what their theories are in detail at length.
One final thing that occurred to me tonight is that all theories I hear from the news is about foreign origination....but I think otherwise, what I saw today was MUCH similar to the ending scene of the famous film Fight Club from a couple of years back.
One positive thing is, the people who hit the towers do not know that those buildings really fill between 9 and 9:30. When the first impact happened at 8:45, everything leading to WTC was stopped. And the second tower was already being evacuated when it was hit by the second plane.
So thousands of people did not even make it to their office in WTC because the subway would not go past Canal. A lot of people like me were saved by the excellent response and sense of the city's officials. I applaud the city's organization and efforts in this really challenging and difficult time.
We are all in the state of shock and disbelief, I am just hoping that the survivor's guilt will not be too severe. I am going to try to go to my work place on the shore of Jersey city (exchange place) right across the WTC complex on the NJ side. I might have to take the ferry for a while. One of the major Path (transportation between NJ and NY) is located at the WTC. Needless to say this attack pretty much destroyed that station.
Working in NY will be very difficult for a couple of weeks. Our clients have been effected and we have no word on how many of them actually evacuated the towers and the adjoining buildings in the complex.
It feels like the news is not supplying enough information. Most of us in Ny are just as information starved as you all are, no one is allowed to go past the Canal Street downtown. Only emergency personnel is allowed.
Please spread the news that everyone that I know in Sapient seems to be fine. I think we were saved by out slightly late starting schedules. (Amazing argument for showing up to work at 10:30AM !)
So far I do not know of anyone that is not ok. The phones are still not behaving right if I can not be reached it does not mean I am not ok. I am taking good care of myself. I am unable to call all of you to tell you we're doing ok, I need your help to tell others that you know might be worried about us.
Thanks for all your messages.... I am glad you all are not here to see what I saw, because on TV what you see could not possibly represent what was felt by us all here. Thanks in advance for spreading the news, ES
9/12/2001 3:07 AM
Sorry for my general absence from e mail. I had a VERY close encounter with today's events. I am sending you all a CC of my account that I sent out to Friends and Family tonight:
Hi, I wanted to send out another message briefing you all on the new details and some corrections. First off, I am ok and unharmed by the World Trade Center Disaster.
My earlier message today: I was in a daze when I wrote the first message, I was not 30 blocks away, I was 10-20 blocks away on the hudson river side walking still towards the two towers when the South Tower collapsed. I was right around the Holland tunnel ventilation shafts.
The Experience:
I go through WTC everyday around 9 AM to transfer from NR subway trains to the Path trains that make me to my office in Exchange Place (NJ shore of Hudson river). I overslept this morning so I was running 30 mins late. I was rushing to work around 9 and I noticed smoke in the air blowing towards Brooklyn, but it did not occur to me that it could be WTC. I got onto my first subway train and then made it to my transfer station and got on the second train that takes me to WTC Path trains. There was something blaring on the intercom but there always is, so I did not think much of it. We made it to 8th street station and I finally got it, the Train was not going to make to WTC, something was up. I got out, somewhat angry that I was going to be late to work AGAIN! As I was walking towards the ferries on the hudson side I saw the two towers on fire. Apparently when I was going into the subway only one of them was on fire. By the time I got out and started walking, the second impact had occurred.
My own behavior did not make sense at the time. A group of people along with me were walking/running TOWARD the towers until one of them collapsed. When something like this happens you do not realize how serious it all is. I was still trying to go to work thinking, oh great now I have to take the ferry.
As I got closer to the towers (the ferry stations are in that area too), it became evident that this was not a movie. Tons of paper were flying out of the North tower (it was a VERY windy day to start with). Half way through my walk something took over and I was sobbing for no reason. There is nothing comparable to seeing one of the world's largest buildings on fire. Once I saw the South tower collapsed, I woke up from my dazed walk towards the towers. Until then I was just unable to take my eyes off of the towers to realize that I was putting myself in jeopardy by approaching. Just around this time I met with the wave of hundreds of people walking away from the towers towards North. When the buildings fell, the smoke and debris in the air was UNBELIEVABLE. The force of the buildings falling down pulled down a whole bunch of air which let all of us at the scene see the skyline without the two towers. It looked like major after effects digital video editing work only it was real. I still can not believe the news that keeps saying that there were no bombs in the buildings. They fell down so elegantly, mostly caving into themselves like they have been imploded by an professional deconstruction company.
A lot of us started running uptown to beat the storm of dust coming our way. And hope was with us until the last moment, the second tower was still standing, it was ok, one tower was still better than none. Then the second one fell, and you should have heard us all on the streets. Crying, in anger, in tears, totally overwhelmed just by the visual impact of what was happening. I found myself saying "game over"... it was over, it really was. Thousands of people walked home today at noon, all transportation, all bridges, all subways, all path subways, all ferries were shut down.
I have seen several "mud people" walking to their homes in a state of absolute shock and disbelief. I was able to avoid the dust.
All streets are empty right now, and there are ambulances and emergency vehicles ferrying patients north to uptown hospitals. The downtown hospitals are only used for EXTREME cases. I have seen several people on the streets with scratched and scarred faces.
All restaurants, all stores are closed. I was out tonight to get dinner (yes some restaurants were open), everyone is talking about this and strange thing is, in a town where everyone is a stranger, no one is a stranger right now. You can really talk to anyone and they will discuss the details of today and where they were and what they felt, and what their theories are in detail at length.
One final thing that occurred to me tonight is that all theories I hear from the news is about foreign origination....but I think otherwise, what I saw today was MUCH similar to the ending scene of the famous film Fight Club from a couple of years back.
One positive thing is, the people who hit the towers do not know that those buildings really fill between 9 and 9:30. When the first impact happened at 8:45, everything leading to WTC was stopped. And the second tower was already being evacuated when it was hit by the second plane.
So thousands of people did not even make it to their office in WTC because the subway would not go past Canal. A lot of people like me were saved by the excellent response and sense of the city's officials. I applaud the city's organization and efforts in this really challenging and difficult time.
We are all in the state of shock and disbelief, I am just hoping that the survivor's guilt will not be too severe. I am going to try to go to my work place on the shore of Jersey city (exchange place) right across the WTC complex on the NJ side. I might have to take the ferry for a while. One of the major Path (transportation between NJ and NY) is located at the WTC. Needless to say this attack pretty much destroyed that station.
Working in NY will be very difficult for a couple of weeks. Our clients have been effected and we have no word on how many of them actually evacuated the towers and the adjoining buildings in the complex.
It feels like the news is not supplying enough information. Most of us in Ny are just as information starved as you all are, no one is allowed to go past the Canal Street downtown. Only emergency personnel is allowed.
Please spread the news that everyone that I know in Sapient seems to be fine. I think we were saved by out slightly late starting schedules. (Amazing argument for showing up to work at 10:30AM !)
So far I do not know of anyone that is not ok. The phones are still not behaving right if I can not be reached it does not mean I am not ok. I am taking good care of myself. I am unable to call all of you to tell you we're doing ok, I need your help to tell others that you know might be worried about us.
Thanks for all your messages.... I am glad you all are not here to see what I saw, because on TV what you see could not possibly represent what was felt by us all here. Thanks in advance for spreading the news, ES
Category :
We take so much for granted; our bodies, our health, our sanity, and most of all our identity. We spend our days constantly trying to go from point A to point B only to realize that point B is the new point A. But beyond all of these thoughts, and the circle of life, which on most days feels a lot closer to a re-enactment of the myth of Sisyphus, we find that from day to day, from year to year, from one turmoil to the next; in the middle of all this change the only thing that stays constant is our presence.
They say that the loneliest places on Earth are the most crowded ones, and I felt this so strongly during my time in New York City. Six million people all stuffed several storey high onto the same old half mud, half bedrock, half water, half steel island. We were all so important, so primed and ready to hit it big any moment now. As I sat at my window and stared on to the brief green outside my building, I realized in more ways than one this was a deserted island. Nature in its true form had long fled this place, only remaining piece of it was tucked neatly at the center with right angles around it; almost a hostage the city was holding onto, in case the rest of nature came back to make claims. All these streets, all these buildings, these tunnels, all these dreams, they seemed all so empty, yet we stayed day after day; every day waking up with renewed hopes of stardom and wealth; every day digging the same old hole in the same old spot with no significant progress to show. We thought we were rowing on Hudson against the current and we knew we had it bad; but it was much worse than that; Hudson had eaten us alive and we did not know it yet.
As I walked in the September breeze, the streets were busy with people. Between 1st Avenue and Union Square I could run into two friends, hundreds of strangers and perhaps on any given day a few models and marginal celebrities. New York City was the ultimate Noah's Ark, we had two of everything; which made me wonder, where was my other half? Was he or she out here on this island too or was he the person I left behind in Texas?
Manhattan was a zoo; it was now mine, and I had my cage in it, labeled "100% genuine imported Turk". But really was I genuine anymore? After ten years in the US, what were the remains of my Turkish persona? Maybe it was the fact that I got upset so fast, that I expected things from people Americans do not; or perhaps it was my manners, my accent, my refusal to learn the proper names of trees and flowers. Perhaps just the simple fact that when I closed my eyes I still dreamt in Turkish. Or perhaps the fact that my family refused to give up their ways, and still called me up to two times a day.
Walking the streets, there were familiar faces on people I had never met. As they looked up from the pavement, our eyes would meet and right then and there we both knew it but no one dared to speak a word. It felt like I had checked myself in to a secret society and our secret handshake was avoiding eye contact at all cost.
I would frequently have these days where I would literally hide from acquaintances, friends. If I saw one from a distance I would quickly turn the corner and pick up the pace. In the US, this kind of behavior is classified as antisocial, perhaps abnormal. I have never considered it as such however. I see nothing wrong with wanting to be alone for a day. Seriously at what point did we lose our right to be by ourselves? In a city where everyone must mingle, everyone must work, everyone must fight and win, what if I was completely content with being alone and perhaps even willing to lose? Would that mean that I did not belong here? Should I have seen ahead before moving here that I was just not made of the right stuff for this city?
The storm was brewing, the September skies were clear blue. It was cold but without clouds or rain but something weighed down on my neck like a pair of heavy hands --comforting to some degree but a burden nevertheless. It hung over the city like a veil. It knew better and it was not going to tell anything.
Along the Hudson I walked with Hudson touching me every now and then in the breeze. I tried to learn the language of New York, I practiced every day, and I believed I could walk myself to being a true New Yorker. West Side Highway buzzed on to my left. My head was busy, my head was as crowded as this city; busy as a beehive with questions that have been asked many times before yet their enigma remained.
In the middle of my coming confused thirties crisis I was given the additional burden of knowing that there was nothing original or interesting about my suffering --but somehow this knowledge did not dull the pain nor did it justify its presence.
They say that the loneliest places on Earth are the most crowded ones, and I felt this so strongly during my time in New York City. Six million people all stuffed several storey high onto the same old half mud, half bedrock, half water, half steel island. We were all so important, so primed and ready to hit it big any moment now. As I sat at my window and stared on to the brief green outside my building, I realized in more ways than one this was a deserted island. Nature in its true form had long fled this place, only remaining piece of it was tucked neatly at the center with right angles around it; almost a hostage the city was holding onto, in case the rest of nature came back to make claims. All these streets, all these buildings, these tunnels, all these dreams, they seemed all so empty, yet we stayed day after day; every day waking up with renewed hopes of stardom and wealth; every day digging the same old hole in the same old spot with no significant progress to show. We thought we were rowing on Hudson against the current and we knew we had it bad; but it was much worse than that; Hudson had eaten us alive and we did not know it yet.
As I walked in the September breeze, the streets were busy with people. Between 1st Avenue and Union Square I could run into two friends, hundreds of strangers and perhaps on any given day a few models and marginal celebrities. New York City was the ultimate Noah's Ark, we had two of everything; which made me wonder, where was my other half? Was he or she out here on this island too or was he the person I left behind in Texas?
Manhattan was a zoo; it was now mine, and I had my cage in it, labeled "100% genuine imported Turk". But really was I genuine anymore? After ten years in the US, what were the remains of my Turkish persona? Maybe it was the fact that I got upset so fast, that I expected things from people Americans do not; or perhaps it was my manners, my accent, my refusal to learn the proper names of trees and flowers. Perhaps just the simple fact that when I closed my eyes I still dreamt in Turkish. Or perhaps the fact that my family refused to give up their ways, and still called me up to two times a day.
Walking the streets, there were familiar faces on people I had never met. As they looked up from the pavement, our eyes would meet and right then and there we both knew it but no one dared to speak a word. It felt like I had checked myself in to a secret society and our secret handshake was avoiding eye contact at all cost.
I would frequently have these days where I would literally hide from acquaintances, friends. If I saw one from a distance I would quickly turn the corner and pick up the pace. In the US, this kind of behavior is classified as antisocial, perhaps abnormal. I have never considered it as such however. I see nothing wrong with wanting to be alone for a day. Seriously at what point did we lose our right to be by ourselves? In a city where everyone must mingle, everyone must work, everyone must fight and win, what if I was completely content with being alone and perhaps even willing to lose? Would that mean that I did not belong here? Should I have seen ahead before moving here that I was just not made of the right stuff for this city?
The storm was brewing, the September skies were clear blue. It was cold but without clouds or rain but something weighed down on my neck like a pair of heavy hands --comforting to some degree but a burden nevertheless. It hung over the city like a veil. It knew better and it was not going to tell anything.
Along the Hudson I walked with Hudson touching me every now and then in the breeze. I tried to learn the language of New York, I practiced every day, and I believed I could walk myself to being a true New Yorker. West Side Highway buzzed on to my left. My head was busy, my head was as crowded as this city; busy as a beehive with questions that have been asked many times before yet their enigma remained.
In the middle of my coming confused thirties crisis I was given the additional burden of knowing that there was nothing original or interesting about my suffering --but somehow this knowledge did not dull the pain nor did it justify its presence.
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