I'm still experiencing emotional over-load.  

Two months ago, I volunteered to participate in the 2,996 Project initiated by D. C. (Dale) Roe, to write a tribute to one randomly assigned victim of the 9-11 tragedy.  I was assigned to write a tribute to Lynn C. Goodchild.

At 9:04 am on September 11, 2001, I watched in utter disbelief as Flight 175 struck the South Tower of the World Trade Center.  A bright, successful, effervescent 25-year-old woman -- Lynn C. Goodchild -- was on that flight. 

There are no official reports of what transpired on Flight 175.  One unofficial telephone call recounts passenger discord and -- because of erratic flight  maneuvers -- considerable air sickness among passengers before impact .... 

Have or will I watch re-enactments of the 9-11 tragedy?  No.  No, thanks.

Reading approximately 5-600 tributes to victims of the 9-11 tragedy has been enough. 

Dear God -- some of the tributes, especially those which detailed the final moments of victims' telephone calls to loved ones ... of conversations with 911 operators .... of testimonies by survivors -- have more than met my vicarious interests.

It has been the other tributes -- the profiles of warm, gentle, caring, every-day-type people .... neighbors ... friends ... people with young children, new wives, interests and nuances, problems and ambitions -- no different from yours or mine .... people who died horrendous and needless deaths.  How moved have I been?  How touched by the tributes?

I started a blog roll for the 2,996 bloggers who wrote tributes for D. C. (Dale) Roe's project.  It was the most I could do, I felt.  It will take a while to record all the names and links, but it will be another worthwhile project. 

Why?

To extend an association  -- beyond political, social and geographic barriers, beyond the memorial services.  An association of individuals who, in essence, are connected -- i.e., who empathize with the tragic devastation of lives -- both lost and surviving.  To promote a connection -- to capture and preserve the essence of humanity that was lost that day -- as collected by total strangers.  To maintain the realization that the individuals in those airplanes and in those buildings were real people -- not just names etched in marble or photos on a wall.   We must not forget.  We will not forget.  We must remember the individuals -- the moms, dads, husbands, wives, brothers, sisters, the young, the elderly --  who died in that horrific tragedy. 

It's the least I can do.