"All the news that's fit to print about fighting Terrorism with Vigilance!"



OVERVIEW: A sadness is cast over Ground Zero as Nine Eleven's Third Anniversary approaches. It is the sadness of Complacency. I am one of its prime victims, for there is a heavy weight on my shoulders as to whether I should continue to fight for Vigilance or simply give up my quest and join the crowds who would rather forget the Beast of Terror is planning a Nine Twelve.

GROUND ZERO PLUS 1093 DAYS, (4 DAYS TO GROUND ZERO PLUS THREE YEARS)--New York, NY, Tuesday, September 7, 2004--Nine Twelve! Nine Twelve! Nine Twelve!

Sounds like Chicken Little is crying that the sky is falling.

I want to stick my head in the ground. Most people do.

Who wants to live in the Shadow of the Beast of Terror?

Who wants to cringe every time a tire blows out, or a plane flies too low overhead, or a set of sirens scream?

Fear, Intimidation and Complacency wear thin the nerves of people who want security and safety--and, like we Americans--are used to it as a way of life.

What if the Terrorist attack on Nine Eleven was just an anomaly? What if it was as rare as a shark attack, even rarer?

For three years no Terrorist has attacked--don't we have the problem under wraps?

Maybe this is true for those who have agendas that preclude looking over their shoulders and keeping their children within eye- and ear-shot 24/7. But, if we all want to relax our grip on the War On Terrorism and settle back into the comfort of our easy chairs, nodding at Ground Zero as a legacy of the past rather than a barometer for the future, then we can surrender our Shields and Swords of Vigilance and stop taking the Pledge of Vigilance daily.

Fundamentally, it's over if we take that attitude.

November 2 will tell the world more about the status of America's Complacency. If John Kerry is elected, it will mean the War on Terrorism wasn't a popular political or economic plan for the average American. It will mean we can throw the final shovel of dirt--at least for the next four years--on the Ground Zero Graveyard, shed a final tear, and get back to the business of building our own wealth and restoring our own freedom rather than taking on the world's problems.

We can slip back into the safety and security of the American Shell, licking our wounds and healing the dissent. We can put Halliburton out of business and return our troops to the safe, bloodless soil of America.

I don't have a good feeling about November 2 because I don't have a good feeling about September 11, 2004.

In my own case, I sent out numerous press releases about our website, vigilancevoice.com to various "respected" media. Not one reply so far about a couple of grandparents running a website for three years to fight Terrorism.

I don't propose the story of our site equals the horror of Terrorists in Russia, or competes with U.S. Open, or the powerful new reality shows launching this week so television viewers can have their minds absorbed by hard-hitting programs such as Joey, or live for a couple of weeks in the homes of other people who have Swapped Wives.

Terror Hunting had its fifteen minutes of fame.

It is a little difficult for me to accept that the world can dispel the presence of the Beast of Terror so easily, but then I'm not the collective conscience. If I was, I'd get a job, bury my head at a desk, take home a check, pay the bills, go to work, bury my head at the desk, take home another check, pay more bills, and then go to work again.

I sure as Hell wouldn't try to wake up a Complacent public drooling to glue its eyes to the Fall Network Premiers, or scheduling up Monday Night Football sports bars, or anxious to see the Forest Hills tennis courts turned into fashion runways that give tennis a second seat to the sport of looking good.


I'm not sure.

It may be just a matter of facing reality.

Over the past few months I was denied by a major insurance company eligibility of Ground Zero Post Traumatic Stress Disorder. They told me to go fly a Terrorist plane in essence.

They refused to accept that for three years I have been crawling in the belly of the Beast, hacking away at his viscera in hopes that I might cripple his ability to strike Fear, Intimidation and Complacency into the souls and hearts of children.

The company, MONY Insurance, owned by AXA Financial, recently sent me a letter telling me they would no longer respond to my allegations that they treated me unfairly, applied bad faith to my disability claim, forced me to sign a release and surrender my insurance policies for a pittance of their worth. I believe AXA and MONY have entered into the realm of a new egregious act of corporate violence against the little guy I choose to call Corporate Terrorism.

So, as September 11, 2004 approaches, there is a dark cloud hanging over my head about the futility of fighting for what I consider are the rights of the Children's Children's Children.

On the surface, one might see the pendulum swinging away from the horror of Ground Zero and toward a planting of flowers where bombs once scarred the earth.

But then one has to avoid watching television or going to the movies to fall that deep into Complacent Somnolency.

The damn Terrorists are attacking schools and children across the Big Pond, and forcing mothers to choose which child will die.

Of course, because the distance is a few thousand miles and the nation is Russia, Americans might think that Terrorists are bound by national borders. But, if they didn't read the papers closely, they probably missed the fact that half of the Terrorists in Russia were from other nations.


Then, today my wife and I went to the movie Suspect Zero. It starred Ben Kingley as a Terror Hunter.

Kingsley was tracking down serial killers--who happened to target children and the young--and killing them.

The movie was disturbing because it involved the deaths of hundreds upon hundreds of children throughout the United States by a Terrorist--a serial killer--that was an American.

It made you wonder if perhaps Terrorism exists right here at home, and the War On Terrorism isn't about blowing up Osama bin Laden and parading his head on a stick as much as it requires each of us to take a closer look at our own back yards and ferret out the Fear, Intimidation and Complacency that can make a child cringe and cry and walk throughout life with a crippled soul.

I certainly don't understand why MONY or AXA refused to sit down with me and discuss a settlement to the pain and anguish they caused me. They claimed "no fault" while I submitted to them countless pages of errors, faults, discretions and violations of my rights and my wife's rights.

They are far too busy with other agendas to address mine, as a busy parent is far too busy to spend time with his or her children and find out what is really going on inside them.

That brings me to today, and the conundrum I face as September 11, 2004 approaches.

I am being asked by the anniversary if I really believe a Nine Twelve will occur? Do I believe Terrorism will attack again, as it so dramatically and horribly did on September 11, 2001?

I have but one answer to that.

Terrorism has always been and always will be. All Nine Eleven represented was an exclamation point of its existence and of America's vulnerability.

We've had our own Terrorists walk into schools and kill fellow classmates, and our own mad bombers blow up children and buildings with fertilizer as the explosive, and our Corporate Rapists ravaging the wealth of thousands who trusted them with their life savings.

We've had a President lie to the American public and be swept into fame rather than disgrace for his "indiscretions" and another launch us into war despite a world that didn't want to upset the tyrannical apple cart.

We have our French critics passing laws that disallow the wearing of religious headgear while Terrorists hold knives to the throats of two of two of their journalists, threatening to cut their jugulars if the law isn't reversed.

Terrorism going away?

It's as though we've forgotten about Kim Jong Il in South Korea, polishing up his nuclear missiles and readying his nation to fight to the death--and because ea vast majority are starving, they have nothing to lose in such a battle.

But should I fight on for the Children's Children's Children, or, should I go after MONY and AXA to make right what they have ripped from my hands and my wife's hands as they hide behind thick corporate legal walls and constant denial that they have in any way "wronged me?"

Or, should I just hang up my spurs and get a job as a copywriter or book editor and bury my face in the desk and get a check, pay the bills, go to work, bury my face in the desk, get a check, pay the bills and go to work?

Every time I think of that I see the executives of AXA and MONY wiping their behinds with the documents I sent them and laughing at the temerity of a little guy like me challenging an insurance company that handles nearly $1 trillion in assets and enjoys tens of thousands of employees.

I also see the shattered, burned, charred, dismembered bodies of the thousands who died at Ground Zero on Nine Eleven walking in a long line, carrying their heads, some hobbling on a leg, others crawling because they have no legs, some dragging those with no heads or arms or legs, others wheelbarrowing the parts of those so fragmented that only bits and pieces remain, on what might be called a Battan Death March.

They are sad. Caked blood rivuleting down their faces and chest is thick with flies feasting on the last drops oozing from decaying flesh of those whose bodies were buried so deep some semblance of their former state remained.

There are men and women of all sizes, shapes, ethnicity, speaking a global range of languages, from all stations of status and economics from the El Salvadorian with the mop, to the shoe shine man from Mexico, to the CEO of multi-national company, to the grandmothers, grandfathers, uncles, aunts, mothers, fathers, cousins, nephews, nieces and countless loved ones forming a ragtag Circle of Vigilance over Ground Zero.

Once, I saw them as strong, Vigilance Warriors, banging on their Shields of Vigilance with the Swords of Vigilance alerting the world and public to be Semper Vigilantes--Always Vigilant.

They were whole then, their bodies reinstated by the pride and belief in the Spirit of Vigilance. I saw them rise out of the ashes at Ground Zero. I saluted them. I vowed to honor them and to preserve their memory and legacy with my life.

Now, that vision is tattered. I see the wounded warriors of Nine Eleven, the sad Spirits of Vigilance stumbling about the Heavens, wandering lost souls reaching out into the night in hopes they will find a welcome hand.

In the new television series Rescue Me, Denis Leary constantly sees and talks to the dead. They aren't a happy bunch. They look at him with empty, sad eyes, as if waiting for him to hoist them on his shoulders and carry them to some place where they might find eternal rest.

I feel much like Leary's character. When I see him looking and talking to the dead, I feel an icy chill within me, as though I have let down the thousands who died on Nine Eleven by not ringing Bell of Vigilance louder, by not awakening the Complacent to protect themselves and their children from the inevitable Nine Twelve.

I feel the axe that MONY and AXA Financial struck in my back by denying any recognition of my Ground Zero Post Traumatic Stress Disorder splitting me apart, forcing me to realize that the Beast of Corporate Terror is so huge and full of venom that any attempt on my part to bring him to his knees is like holding hands in hopes the tides will stop.

But I keep waking at night screaming...screaming...screaming...

Last night I sat up yelling angrily... My wife had left the bedroom, as though she knew in advance the demons were about to erupt.

I've been wondering if they know what's preying deep in my mind--that maybe I'm considering that there isn't going to be a Nine Twelve, and even if there is, that I can't do a damn thing about it.

Like fighting MONY and AXA for justice: I'll be an old, perhaps dead man by the time the battle is over, and MONY and AXA will be skipping along as Corporate Terrorism washes away with the tides of time--and, legions of attorneys who surge in and out to beat the ants off the elephant.

However, as I try and slide to one side of the razor's edge--the one that's the dullest--I keep hearing the cries of the Sentinels of Vigilance: Semper Vigilantes! Semper Vigilantes!

They are reminding me of the vow I made to them on the morning of September 11, 2001 as I sat in the rubble thankful to be alive, the visions of their bodies flying through the air to death freshly imprinted upon my soul.

They want me to remember the halo of white that whirred around the burning towers that I thought were doves at first and then realized were millions of pieces of papers caught in the vortex of the holocaust, and that Pledge I made to never forget to remind others to remember that they didn't die.

The Sentinels of Vigilance still hover over Ground Zero even if they are battered and their flesh hangs from skeletal remains, and their voices fade with the winds of time. They are as present there as are the Spartans who fought for the legacy of Thermopiles when the Persians tried to crush the five-hundred with 200,000 and were turned back.

I cannot bury the Sentinels of Vigilance no matter how much I feel the weight of defeat on my shoulders, for beyond the cry of those who died on Nine Eleven are the cries of the children of Nine Twelve.

To surrender my Sword and Shield of Vigilance is be ingested by the Beast of Terror. It is to give up my beliefs for the safety and security of my grandchildren, and their grandchildren.

As these final days of the Eve of Vigilance once more approach, I must rearm my thoughts and renew my Pledge of Vigilance to fight Terrorism's many nefarious forms.

That includes taking on Corporate Terrorism and MONY and AXA no matter what the result, for if I surrender to Terrorism's yoke, I become a conspirator, allowing the crime to unfold when I could have done whatever possible to thwart it.

There will be a Nine Twelve.

I will do my best to be ready for it, and to offer those who know there will be one the tools to defend their children from its shadow.


Go To: "Which Of Your Children Would You Feed To The Beast Of Terror"


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