My Take on the Senate CIA Report
Some folks seem to be up in arms on how inhumane the CIA may have been in torturing terrorists in our custody post 9/11 to gain intelligence, including info that led to the eventual killing of Bin Laden.
So we tortured them? So what? As far as I’m concerned, they should have hung ’em up by their balls.
Do all these bleeding hearts both in and out of Congress forget we lost over three thousand totally innocent people in the World Trade Center attack? And that no one in New York or the country or the government knew what was coming down next?
I can say that because I just didn’t watch it all happen on TV – I was there. I personally witnessed that whole fucken incredible nightmare from its first moments through all the heart wrenching months that followed.
At the time I was the Public Relations VP for the Staten Island Division of NYC’s now defunct St. Vincent’s Hospital System, and we had a corporate meeting scheduled that Tuesday morning at 9 a.m. at the Motherhouse as we jokingly referred to St Vincent’s in lower Manhattan. Living – and working – on Staten Island, New York’s forgotten borough, I drove my car over the Bayonne Bridge which connected S.I. to New Jersey and took the PATH subway system which had recently opened a station in Bayonne. It left me off right on Seventh Avenue and 14th Street, a few blocks from the hospital, with a cinematic view of the Towers just moments after that first plane hit.
St. Vincent’s was the closest heath care facility to Ground Zero and immediately mobilized to handle thousands of casualties that never really materialized. You see, you either walked out of the WTC or you were dust. As you can imagine, the day was a media circus for us PR people, drafted to handle the legion of reporters who suddenly converged on the hospital. And when I was finally released for home that night, I managed to grab the last Staten Island Ferry that wouldn’t run again for a week.
Living in New York City, there was no way to escape the ongoing gloom which descended on its residents for months. It was especially dismal on Staten Island, home to many of the Wall Streeters, cops and firefighters who never walked away from the rubble, where every day our local paper announced dozens of funerals and memorial services, a few of which I attended. And for our hospital, the busiest unit those months was our psych ER.
9/11 was one of one hundred and one reasons I left NYC for So Flo a year later.
So please, don’t ask me to share in the remorse and guilt so many apparently feel for what our government may have done to these cold, calculating and heartless fucks.
You’re talking to the wrong guy.