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Self-Disclosure
Aug. 10th, 2004 03:09 pmI think that the recent rebirth of my interest in ham radio is connected to the recent terror alert here in New York City. My building is narrowly separated from Citigroup Center by 54th Street. I walk by that building every day on my way from the subway, and my office faces it. The cops are everywhere, usually with a solid row of police cruisers parked along Lexington Avenue, possibly to make it that much harder for a truck bomb to get to the base of the building.
For me, one horrible part of 9/11 was the feeling that there was nothing I could do to help. I'm not a doctor or a steelworker. I couldn't even give blood because they were full (and, I have since learned, I'm permanently ineligible to be a donor). There were hams everywhere providing emergency communications, but because I had never done any preparation, I had no help to offer that they could use.
And through that, and through the ongoing struggle against the Islamists, I just feel so powerless. The power I have feels so abstract: live my life, work at my job, stay productive so the country can stay rich—and therefore strong. Don't give in to fear.
But when the threat becomes tangible, I think I need a tangible way to feel that there's something I can do. I can't pull Osama bin Laden out of his hole and vivisect him. I can't infiltrate my local al Qaeda cell. ("Excuse me, brothers, can we continue our plotting in English? My Arabic is rusty after all the years away from my home in Riyadh.") I can't straighten out our country's foreign policy.
But maybe I can be ready to help pick up the pieces next time. At least that's something.
For me, one horrible part of 9/11 was the feeling that there was nothing I could do to help. I'm not a doctor or a steelworker. I couldn't even give blood because they were full (and, I have since learned, I'm permanently ineligible to be a donor). There were hams everywhere providing emergency communications, but because I had never done any preparation, I had no help to offer that they could use.
And through that, and through the ongoing struggle against the Islamists, I just feel so powerless. The power I have feels so abstract: live my life, work at my job, stay productive so the country can stay rich—and therefore strong. Don't give in to fear.
But when the threat becomes tangible, I think I need a tangible way to feel that there's something I can do. I can't pull Osama bin Laden out of his hole and vivisect him. I can't infiltrate my local al Qaeda cell. ("Excuse me, brothers, can we continue our plotting in English? My Arabic is rusty after all the years away from my home in Riyadh.") I can't straighten out our country's foreign policy.
But maybe I can be ready to help pick up the pieces next time. At least that's something.
