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Has anyone yet read "The Transition" in this week's New Yorker? Wow. Every time I read about that day, I am moved emotionally. I was only in 3rd grade at the time, but it still stands out so sharply in my memory. The whole world seemed to stand still. My mom and dad cried and were sad for weeks after. It was November and cold and gray. I remember all the adults looking like they were in shock.
I keep thinking how different things might have been if that hadn't happened.
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Ever notice how this place just basically, well, sucks.
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