“Rumors of my demise are greatly exaggerated”…
After 12 years in the desert, son, I have finally woken up, like a modern day RIP VAN WINKLE.
Having not spoken much about my “service” until now, I still cannot think about it
or discuss it without weeping, so please don’t ask me unless I volunteer to discuss
what happened between Sept. 19-
I watched as the desperately exhausted rescuers were still searching for survivors, and finding human remains. There were no volunteer positions available by the time I got to Ground Zero, so I did whatever I could to try and contribute to the overall effort.
I flew directly to New York City on the first plane that took off from Salt Lake City, Utah (after the forced grounding of all airplanes was lifted) and went straight to Lower Manhattan to find friends.
Having survived a pantload of hard times in my life, including a total of almost 5 years of homelessness, several serious injuries and illnesses, and more close calls than I care to remember…I want you to know that…
Being at Ground Zero and elsewhere in Lower Manhattan for those 10 days (I did not sleep much at all) was so traumatic that I still suffer from the mental and physical effects of that experience.
I got heavily dosed by the toxins and fumes (since the EPA recommendation to wear a paper mask was misinformed to say the least) and within a month I was extremely ill, and homeless. I called a number in New York to speak with an attorney about the possibility of getting some kind of assistance, and he told me to basically “go take a flying F…. through a rolling Doug_n_t”,so I did and it hurt… and IT STILL HURTS.
I think that makes the # of instruments I play reach…a grand total of…
44 (and counting).
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