They probably don't want you to think for years to come: "Oh boy, 9/11 is coming up! I love this promo!"
no
that's wrong
and sick
and wrong

This... feels like a topic that is going to get moved or deleted. But is also kind of funny, in the sort of completely inappropriate way that only I think is funny.

"To commemorate the destruction of the twin towers, we present to you all new pilot themed items! :D"

At least it would make people permanently forget about the rage comment a while back.

She goes to bed at 2 am Tuesday, long after her first call at 8:30 am Monday and spending a full day of caring for fire and flood victims and having spent many hours with the 3 year old who was alone and injured after a fire. They wait many hours for family members to arrive and to see if his mother lives or dies. She is fully dressed with jump bag packed and completely emotionally and physically drained. Her DAT team pager and cell phone by her head. The land line phone in her hand. She dozes off thinking and it isn't even Tuesday yet. Man, I've run move calls this week than all of last month put together.

She wakes to a massive crash and the housing shaking as if a truck just drove through the back wall or an earthquake just hit. She looks at the clock. It's 8:46 a.m. The adrenaline rush so bad she can barely breath or see. She knows something really bad just happened. She forces herself through the most blinding, paralyzing fear and makes it to the back door. Nothing, not her or her neighbors. She turns on TV to wait for the breaking news. The phone rings. She answers it without hesitation. She knows who it is and is already has her jump bag and jacket at her feet. She stands at the kitchen table with her back to the doorway keeping an eye on the news and ready to write the address and 911 supervisor's direct line phone number down.

-her mother screams her name
"XXX!!! I just got a phone call from XXX, my friend who works in the World Trade Towers. He was screaming 'They are killing us. They set off a bomb. The fire is coming down the hall. The call ended." She was absolutely freaking out and crying.

"BEEP BEEP", the noise for call waiting. The call she thought was coming. The cell starts ringing non stop. Every number on the pager with the wonderful code of 911 for an emergent situation. She glances at the TV and there's the breaking news with the first pictures of the plane going into the tower. She looks at the clock, 8:59. With both phones in hand, she looks behind her and sees the horrified face of her three year old son who has also been jolted from bed and has been standing in the chaos...standing there watching the event unfold and facing the TV. Her psyche broke. She hung up the phones and turned to see what he was seeing. There they stood together. They watched the second plane hit the tower with tears streaming down their cheeks.

Moments later the phones start ringing again. Team leaders and supervisors calling, screaming, "We are recalled. They are trying to kill us. DO NOT GO IN!"

Called again. "Recalled the recall. We are going in."

9:30 am, the phone rings again. "You are recalled. DO NOT GO IN! Do not go on your own. Many police and first responders ARE dead. No first responders with known PTS are allowed on the scene. You are on stand by, run locals only and receive and debrief those returning." For the next two to three weeks she runs every shift, every call alone believing "they" (someone) are out there trying to kill us, the first responders.

The days and weeks blur together. The call finally comes. The first to enter are coming home. The debriefing is Saturday and Sunday at XXX. Plan on being there Friday night. The director will be covering all calls.

They trickle back one by one. Each still carrying their gear. Many also were carrying things they picked up at ground zero like pieces of rubble or government documents that were blowing around in the streets. They had their clothing they took. Many had cameras and showed everyone the pictures. Debriefing done they all part and return to their homes and families. This continued for weeks and months as more returned. Each session shattering her psyche more and more.

As the dust settled, the level of catastrophe was realized. It seemed that no one escaped the lose of a loved one or, at least, someone they knew or worked with. In the months that followed, the terrorist thing played out but those responders were destroyed.

Time was moving forward. Things were getting better. Or so many thought.

Some of the first responders eventually returned to duty and they started getting back to semi-normal life. Many could not. But as they struggled to recover a time bombing was laying in wait and ticking. Unseen to the human eye. It was growing deep within them. The illnesses ready to explode and bring all the fears home again. What was it? Where did it come from? Did I bring it home? Was it on me, my clothing? Did I expose others to it. Are we going to die?