sad old goth... you don't need to know me...

2012-01-21T20:09:00.003-05:00

it's only fuckin' rock and roll...

do you remember that night? i do...
back against the inside of the kitchen door, her arms wrapped around her drawn up legs, white and smooth skin peeking through the blown out knees of her jeans...
smiling, always smiling. long hair the color of just born rust, half in her face. smiling, always smiling. scroungy black high tops, a size too big. bright blue nail polish. violet eyes half closed as her head swayed slowly left and right to the beat... and she was smiling, always smiling...

just a creak in the hinges of the door of time... nothing special, just a moment. like one of those special sunrise sights that only you've seen, that you want to share with everyone, but would be lost for the telling.

i wore her like a badge of some secret society, one that only met in the dark of the moon and behind the veil of tell and die, not even a secret handshake between the known... we would slide and sidle in, under cover of night, exchange silly passwords, blow the froth off lurid tales, share a moment... then part. and it was always dangerous and good and we'd freeze at the sound of a floorboard squeak, look at each other sideways, laugh and end the chess game with a fling of the board, scattering kings and queens and all about. they were only real, we were the pieces, we were the played...

long, long ago, whales had wings and wanted to be birds, but the waters came and covered all and they went along with it and now they dance in the dark and the wet and look at us and roll their eyes...

the music ended and she opened wide those wild and violet eyes, and pulled the hair from her face with a finger and hooked it behind an ear, looked across the kitchen floor at me and laughed.
"it's late, i gotta go..."
i bit my bottom lip and nodded my head, closed my eyes for but a moment and she was gone...

wind that skims across the fields, what do you carry that makes the grain bow and sway so? do you chase the world or are you driven before the souls of those that were before, naked and chaste before the stars, knowing all and smiling, always smiling..?

2012-01-01T12:09:00.002-05:00

1/1/12...
the first sunrise of the new year...

i have nothing profound to say. no resolutions. maybe some non-resolutions. i'm swearing off politics 100%. faced with what's out there, which is no choice at all, any influence or control over the results is beyond me or anything i can do. i'm going to survive in spite of it all. their ghosts may be heavy, but they cannot break my will.

2011-12-11T09:49:00.003-05:00

i never learn...
here is it, but two weeks before Christmas day, and I'm doing more plaster work in the dining room, filling in damage left behind in the plaster after removing the wainscot from one wall, and replacing all the door and window trim... at least Mrs. SOG and i are in agreement that the room will not be completed before the holidays, so our guests are going to be treated to the work in progress...
i'm going to be painting the wainscot on the remaining three walls bright polar white, putting in new corner beading and chair rail, as well as painting all the woodwork the same white. as much as it pains me to paint nice wood, the room really needs some brightening up. we're going to be putting wallpaper on the odd wall, trying to find something that looks like realistic brick that doesn't cost a hundred bucks a roll...
i'm also going to be reworking the raised hearth and making it level with the floor, which means removing the giant mantle and doing some sheetrock work, as well as all new trim. i might even go so far as to open up the old firebox, put in a stainless steel chimney liner and a woodburning insert, and getting rid of the coal stove. but that's for next year.
so today, we're off chair shopping, we need at least six more chairs to go around the new table in the dining room, it's huge. almost 4 x 8 as it stands, it opens up to 12 feet. perfect for large scale feasting. then, it's off to the family Christmas gathering.
enjoy the rest of your weekend..

2011-12-03T21:46:00.007-05:00

cheap sex...

don't get excited... i didn't pull Karen out of the memory box again, i was just thinking about something that Jim of Parkway Rest Stop posted today, on the most auspicious event of the 9th anniversary of his most excellent blog, which was last week... he commented on how many, present company included, have stopped blogging and fallen into the social network trap of Facebook. i mean, it does work, if you're interested in making sure your dribblings hit a pretty much captive audience, rather than the hit or miss reality of a regular blog. it's easy to fall into the comfort zone of it. it really is like cheap sex. it's the social handjob network syndrome... you either stroke yourself or get stroked by everyone else and you feel really good about yourself because you rubbed out some asinine comment or drop kicked a link from somewhere else. and everyone either sticks their thumbs up or drops a pat you on the back comment for being so fucking witty... but it's never enough, it's like adolescence all over again, that fourth trip of the day into the bathroom with your rag-tag copy of Stern magazine that you're always dragging around because, you tell everyone, it's really good to practice reading for your seventh grade German language class, but it's really for all those damned saucy adds they have for German girls underware... ok, you guys get the idea, right? that's Facebook... mental masturbation for the masses...
well, that's about enough of that, don't you think?

all that sort of talk dragged up a particularly rancid episode in my affair with the fore mentioned Karen, she who lived over the cafe on the left coast, in Coronado, California. she who never wore clothes. she who always made a damned good pot of coffee. she of the famous black hair... one of these days, i'll finish telling those tales. but now, i need some bourbon. i'll be right back.

ah, how thou doth warm and cheer, Wild Turkey... my mood is better already. i almost wish i hadn't quit smoking, a nice, unfiltered Camel would really hit the spot right now. it's been just over six months without any tobacco, i'm looking forward to my one year anniversary, i'm going to light up a nice mellow cigar to celebrate. i think if i get one year under my belt, i'll be able to enjoy a stogie or my pipes once in a while without getting hooked on the coffin nails again. or not. at this stage of life, i'm beginning to wonder if it even really matters... it's funny how looking into the gaping maw of mortality puts things into a different perspective. a lot of crap that used to matter, just doesn't anymore. and some things that were just hanging there have suddenly become the most important things in the world. i guess it will all work itself out in the end, huh?

so. i'm going to endeavor to spend more time here and less time in the bathroom with Facebook. really. you'll see...

2011-11-23T18:02:00.002-05:00

It's the annual "Nightmare Before Thanksgiving" post!!!

As usual, involved with things right up to the last minute, but here it is -

(just push "play" to complete the horror of the scene...)

Anyway, enjoy the day, we all have much to be thankful for, whether we realize it or not...

2011-11-05T20:11:00.009-04:00

autumn...
this is about a quarter of the grounds proper, taken yesterday afternoon...

this is what it looks like today, after application of rake and mulching mower...

like i said, this is about a quarter of the grounds...

here's about a third of the area i did today...

still have to tackle the back woodlot.

it's amazing the therapeutic value working outside on a day like this has on one's soul...

the dreaded standard time is upon us again... how i hate it. i leave for work in the dark as it is, now i'll be heading home in the full dark... at least it's only about six weeks until the Winter Solstice and the daylight time will start growing longer again.

2011-11-04T20:19:00.003-04:00

something is wrong...
i don't know what it is, maybe it's not so much something is wrong as it is that a lot of things aren't right. i've not been this much out of balance for a long, long time. everything seems an effort. nothing seems able to find it's own level, nothing seems to have an actual end... it all just goes on, and on and on. the disconnect between my thoughts and my deeds is worsening. everything flees from my touch.
it is maddening that no one can see what i can see in everything, no one can hear what i hear...
there is nothing out beyond me... i am standing still...

2011-10-31T19:41:00.003-04:00

a blessed Samhain...
a happy new year and a happy Hallowe'en to one and all...
Long has it been since I tarried here. I've been... detained, as our friend Gandalf has said, I believe. Many the distraction has presented itself between my writing here and my life at large, but, I'm working at changing that. As much as I love things like Facebook and Twitter and such, this is my rootstock. This is where I've made my way for so long and jotting off a note here and there does not fulfill the need this blog fills to overflowing, so I'm going to take more time here and less in the "sound bite" realms. You've been warned.
Enjoy this wonderful night. I am. I'll be back very, very soon...
Gregor

2011-10-05T20:31:00.002-04:00

iSad...
Thanks, Steve. Fair journey...

2011-09-25T14:32:00.005-04:00

it's Emeril LaGothy!!!
Yes, it's officially Autumn, so that means that every Sunday, Mrs. SOG is driven from the scullery and I take over... bwahahahaha.....!!!

Nothing too out of hand today, my own take on a Greek pasta salad...

(click to embiggen...)

here's what you need to whip it up:

a six pack of Smuttynose Pumpkin Ale;
a 16.oz box of ziti;
a teaspoon each of: minced mint; minced rosemary; minced basil; minced oregano (all fresh from the herb garden, of course...)
about 12.oz of crumbled Feta cheese;
a dozen or so Kalamata olives, halved lengthwise, with pits removed;
a dozen or so grape tomatoes, halved lengthwise;
a dozen or so seedless purple grapes;
about two cups of fresh spinach, coarse chopped.
a little bit of extra virgin olive oil;
some coarse sea salt;

Ok, start by pouring two bottles of pumpkin ale into a frosted 1 liter mug... sip at regular intervals during the process... repeat as necessary...

then, boil that ziti, al dente, you know how to do that, right..?

while that's going on, cover a baking sheet with aluminum foil, spread the olive halves, tomato halves and grapes on the baking sheet, drizzle with a little olive oil and sprinkle with some sea salt; roast for about 12 minutes in a 450 oven until everything is just starting to sizzle and the grapes are just starting to collapse and caramelize.

drain the pasta and rinse with cold water, let it drain until almost dry, then transfer to a large bowl. mix in the all the rest of the ingredients, toss and throw it in the fridge until chilled.

serve chilled with your favorite lamb dish, with a little dollop of plain Greek yogurt on the side...

Enjoy!

awatch

2011-09-15T13:11:00.001-04:00

awatch, a photo by just an old goth... on Flickr.

2011-09-10T18:02:00.000-04:00

9/11/2001

Pueblo Indian Prayer

Hold on to what is good,
even if it's a handful of earth.

Hold on to what you believe,
Even if it's a tree that stands by itself.

Hold on to what you must do,
Even if it's a long way from here.

Hold on to your life,
Even if it's easier to let go.

Hold on to my hand,
Even if I've gone away from you.

Gordon McCannel Aamoth, 32, New York, N.Y.
Maria Rose Abad, 49, Syosset, N.Y.
Edelmiro (Ed) Abad, 54, New York, N.Y.
Andrew Anthony Abate, 37, Melville, N.Y.
Vincent Abate, 40, New York, N.Y.
Laurence Christopher Abel, 37
William F. Abrahamson, 58, Cortland Manor, N.Y.
Richard Anthony Aceto, 42, Wantagh, N.Y.
Erica Van Acker, 62, New York, N.Y.
Heinrich B. Ackermann, 38, New York, N.Y.
Paul Andrew Acquaviva, 29, Glen Rock, N.J.
Donald L. Adams, 28, Chatham, N.J.
Shannon Lewis Adams, 25, New York, N.Y.
Stephen Adams, 51, New York, N.Y.
Patrick Adams, 60, New York, N.Y.
Ignatius Adanga, 62, New York, N.Y.
Christy A. Addamo, 28, New Hyde Park, N.Y.
Terence E. Adderley, 22, Bloomfield Hills, Mich.
Sophia B. Addo, 36, New York, N.Y.
Lee Adler, 48, Springfield, N.J.
Daniel Thomas Afflitto, 32, Manalapan, N.J.
Emmanuel Afuakwah, 37, New York, N.Y.
Alok Agarwal, 36, Jersey City, N.J.
Mukul Agarwala, 37, New York, N.Y.
Joseph Agnello, 35, New York, N.Y.
David Scott Agnes, 46, New York, N.Y.
Joao A. Aguiar Jr., 30, Red Bank, N.J.
Lt. Brian G. Ahearn, 43, Huntington, N.Y.
Jeremiah J. Ahern, 74, Cliffside Park, N.J.
Joanne Ahladiotis, 27, New York, N.Y.
Shabbir Ahmed, 47, New York, N.Y.
Terrance Andre Aiken, 30, New York, N.Y.
Godwin Ajala, 33, New York, N.Y.
Gertrude M. Alagero, 37, New York, N.Y.
Andrew Alameno, 37, Westfield, N.J.
Margaret Ann (Peggy) Jezycki Alario, 41, New York, N.Y.
Gary Albero, 39, Emerson, N.J.
Jon L. Albert, 46, Upper Nyack, N.Y.
Peter Craig Alderman, 25, New York, N.Y.
Jacquelyn Delaine Aldridge, 46, New York, N.Y.
Grace Alegre-Cua, 40, Glen Rock, N.J.
David D. Alger, 57, New York, N.Y.
Ernest Alikakos, 43, New York, N.Y.
Edward L. Allegretto, 51, Colonia, N.J.
Eric Allen, 44, New York, N.Y.
Joseph Ryan Allen, 39, New York, N.Y.
Richard Lanard Allen, 30, New York, N.Y.
Richard Dennis Allen, 31, New York, N.Y.
Christopher Edward Allingham, 36, River Edge, N.J.
Janet M. Alonso, 41, Stony Point, N.Y.
Anthony Alvarado, 31, New York, N.Y.
Antonio Javier Alvarez, 23, New York, N.Y.
Telmo Alvear, 25, New York, N.Y.
Cesar A. Alviar, 60, Bloomfield, N.J.
Tariq Amanullah, 40, Metuchen, N.J.
Angelo Amaranto, 60, New York, N.Y.
James Amato, 43, Ronkonkoma, N.Y.
Joseph Amatuccio, 41, New York, N.Y.
Christopher Charles Amoroso, 29, New York, N.Y.
Kazuhiro Anai, 42, Scarsdale, N.Y.
Calixto Anaya, 35, Suffern, N.Y.
Jorge Octavio Santos Anaya, 25, Aguascalientes, Aguascalientes, Mexico
Joseph Peter Anchundia, 26, New York, N.Y.
Kermit Charles Anderson, 57, Green Brook, N.J.
Yvette Anderson, 53, New York, N.Y.
John Andreacchio, 52, New York, N.Y.
Michael Rourke Andrews, 34, Belle Harbor, N.Y.
Jean A. Andrucki, 42, Hoboken, N.J.
Siew-Nya Ang, 37, East Brunswick, N.J.
Joseph Angelini, 38, Lindenhurst, N.Y.
Joseph Angelini, 63, Lindenhurst, N.Y.
Laura Angilletta, 23, New York, N.Y.
Doreen J. Angrisani, 44, New York, N.Y.
Lorraine D. Antigua, 32, Middletown, N.J.
Peter Paul Apollo, 26, Hoboken, N.J.
Faustino Apostol, 55, New York, N.Y.
Frank Thomas Aquilino, 26, New York, N.Y.
Patrick Michael Aranyos, 26, New York, N.Y.
David Gregory Arce, 36, New York, N.Y.
Michael G. Arczynski, 45, Little Silver, N.J.
Louis Arena, 32, New York, N.Y.
Adam Arias, 37, Staten Island, N.Y.
Michael J. Armstrong, 34, New York, N.Y.
Jack Charles Aron, 52, Bergenfield, N.J.
Joshua Aron, 29, New York, N.Y.
Richard Avery Aronow, 48, Mahwah, N.J.
Japhet J. Aryee, 49, Spring Valley, N.Y.
Carl Asaro, 39, Middletown, N.Y.
Michael A. Asciak, 47, Ridgefield, N.J.
Michael Edward Asher, 53, Monroe, N.Y.
Janice Ashley, 25, Rockville Centre, N.Y.
Thomas J. Ashton, 21, New York, N.Y.
Manuel O. Asitimbay, 36, New York, N.Y.
Lt. Gregg Arthur Atlas, 45, Howells, N.Y.
Gerald Atwood, 38, New York, N.Y.
James Audiffred, 38, New York, N.Y.
Kenneth W. Van Auken, 47, East Brunswick, N.J.
Louis F. Aversano, Jr, 58, Manalapan, N.J.
Ezra Aviles, 41, Commack, N.Y.
Ayodeji Awe, 42, New York, N.Y
Samuel (Sandy) Ayala, 36, New York, N.Y.
Arlene T. Babakitis, 47, Secaucus, N.J.
Eustace (Rudy) Bacchus, 48, Metuchen, N.J.
John James Badagliacca, 35, New York, N.Y.
Jane Ellen Baeszler, 43, New York, N.Y.
Robert J. Baierwalter, 44, Albertson, N.Y.
Andrew J. Bailey, 29, New York, N.Y.
Brett T. Bailey, 28, Bricktown, N.J.
Tatyana Bakalinskaya, 43, New York, N.Y.
Michael S. Baksh, 36, Englewood, N.J.
Sharon Balkcom, 43, White Plains, N.Y.
Michael Andrew Bane, 33, Yardley, Pa.
Kathy Bantis, 44, Chicago, Ill.
Gerard Jean Baptiste, 35, New York, N.Y.
Walter Baran, 42, New York, N.Y.
Gerard A. Barbara, 53, New York, N.Y.
Paul V. Barbaro, 35, Holmdel, N.J.
James W. Barbella, 53, Oceanside, N.Y.
Ivan Kyrillos Fairbanks Barbosa, 30, Jersey City, N.J.
Victor Daniel Barbosa, 23, New York, N.Y.
Colleen Ann Barkow, 26, East Windsor, N.J.
David Michael Barkway, 34, Toronto, Ontario, Canada
Matthew Barnes, 37, Monroe, N.Y.
Sheila Patricia Barnes, 55, Bay Shore, N.Y.
Evan J. Baron, 38, Bridgewater, N.J.
Renee Barrett-Arjune, 41, Irvington, N.J.
Arthur T. Barry, 35, New York, N.Y.
Diane G. Barry, 60, New York, N.Y.
Maurice Vincent Barry, 49, Rutherford, N.J.
Scott D. Bart, 28, Malverne, N.Y.
Carlton W. Bartels, 44, New York, N.Y.
Guy Barzvi, 29, New York, N.Y.
Inna Basina, 43, New York, N.Y.
Alysia Basmajian, 23, Bayonne, N.J.
Kenneth William Basnicki, 48, Etobicoke, Ontario, Canada
Lt. Steven J. Bates, 42, New York, N.Y.
Paul James Battaglia, 22, New York, N.Y.
W. David Bauer, 45, Rumson, N.J.
Ivhan Luis Carpio Bautista, 24, New York, N.Y.
Marlyn C. Bautista, 46, Iselin, N.J.
Jasper Baxter, 45, Philadelphia, Pa.
Michele (Du Berry) Beale, 37, Essex, Britain
Paul F. Beatini, 40, Park Ridge, N.J.
Jane S. Beatty, 53, Belford, N.J.
Larry I. Beck, 38, Baldwin, N.Y.
Manette Marie Beckles, 43, Rahway, N.J.
Carl John Bedigian, 35, New York, N.Y.
Michael Beekman, 39, New York, N.Y.
Maria Behr, 41, Milford, N.J.
Yelena Belilovsky, 38, Mamaroneck, N.Y.
Nina Patrice Bell, 39, New York, N.Y.
Andrea Della Bella, 59, Jersey City, N.J.
Debbie S. Bellows, 30, East Windsor, N.J.
Stephen Elliot Belson, 51, New York, N.Y.
Paul Michael Benedetti, 32, New York, N.Y.
Denise Lenore Benedetto, 40, New York, N.Y.
Bryan Craig Bennett, 25, New York, N.Y.
Oliver Duncan Bennett, 29, London, England
Eric L. Bennett, 29, New York, N.Y.
Margaret L. Benson, 52, Rockaway, N.J.
Dominick J. Berardi, 25, New York, N.Y.
James Patrick Berger, 44, Lower Makefield, Pa.
Steven Howard Berger, 45, Manalapan, N.J.
John P. Bergin, 39, New York, N.Y.
Alvin Bergsohn, 48, Baldwin Harbor, N.Y.
Daniel D. Bergstein, 38, Teaneck, N.J.
Michael J. Berkeley, 38, New York, N.Y.
Donna Bernaerts-Kearns, 44, Hoboken, N.J.
David W. Bernard, 57, Chelmsford, Mass.
William Bernstein, 44, New York, N.Y.
David M. Berray, 39, New York, N.Y.
David S. Berry, 43, New York, N.Y.
Joseph J. Berry, 55, Saddle River, N.J.
William Reed Bethke, 36, Hamilton, N.J.
Timothy D. Betterly, 42, Little Silver, N.J.
Edward F. Beyea, 42, New York, N.Y.
Paul Michael Beyer, 37, New York, N.Y.
Anil T. Bharvaney, 41, East Windsor, N.J.
Bella Bhukhan, 24, Union, N.J.
Shimmy D. Biegeleisen, 42, New York, N.Y.
Peter Alexander Bielfeld, 44, New York, N.Y.
William Biggart, 54, New York, N.Y.
Brian Bilcher, 36, New York, N.Y.
Carl Vincent Bini, 44, New York, N.Y.
Gary Bird, 51, Tempe, Ariz.
Joshua David Birnbaum, 24, New York, N.Y.
George Bishop, 52, Granite Springs, N.Y.
Jeffrey D. Bittner, 27, New York, N.Y.
Balewa Albert Blackman, 26, New York, N.Y.
Christopher Joseph Blackwell, 42, Patterson, N.Y.
Susan L. Blair, 35, East Brunswick, N.J.
Harry Blanding, 38, Blakeslee, Pa.
Janice L. Blaney, 55, Williston Park, N.Y.
Craig Michael Blass, 27, Greenlawn, N.Y.
Rita Blau, 52, New York, N.Y.
Richard M. Blood, 38, Ridgewood, N.J.
Michael A. Boccardi, 30, Bronxville, N.Y.
John Paul Bocchi, 38, New Vernon, N.J.
Michael L. Bocchino, 45, New York, N.Y.
Susan Mary Bochino, 36, New York, N.Y.
Bruce Douglas (Chappy) Boehm, 49, West Hempstead, N.Y.
Mary Katherine Boffa, 45, New York, N.Y.
Nicholas A. Bogdan, 34, Browns Mills, N.J.
Darren C. Bohan, 34, New York, N.Y.
Lawrence Francis Boisseau, 36, Freehold, N.J.
Vincent M. Boland, 25, Ringwood, N.J.
Alan Bondarenko, 53, Flemington, N.J.
Andre Bonheur, 40, New York, N.Y.
Colin Arthur Bonnett, 39, New York, N.Y.
Frank Bonomo, 42, Port Jefferson, N.Y.
Yvonne L. Bonomo, 30, New York, N.Y.
Sean Booker, 35, Irvington, N.J.
Sherry Ann Bordeaux, 38, Jersey City, N.J.
Krystine C. Bordenabe, 33, Old Bridge, N.J.
Martin Boryczewski, 29, Parsippany, N.J.
Richard E. Bosco, 34, Suffern, N.Y.
John Howard Boulton, 29, New York, N.Y.
Francisco Bourdier, 41, New York, N.Y.
Thomas H. Bowden, 36, Wyckoff, N.J.
Kimberly S. Bowers, 31, Islip, N.Y.
Veronique (Bonnie) Nicole Bowers, 28, New York, N.Y.
Larry Bowman, 46, New York, N.Y.
Shawn Edward Bowman, 28, New York, N.Y.
Kevin L. Bowser, 45, Philadelphia, Pa.
Gary R. Box, 37, North Bellmore, N.Y.
Gennady Boyarsky, 34, New York, N.Y.
Pamela Boyce, 43, New York, N.Y.
Michael Boyle, 37, Westbury, N.Y.
Alfred Braca, 54, Leonardo, N.J.
Sandra Conaty Brace, 60, New York, N.Y.
Kevin H. Bracken, 37, New York, N.Y.
David Brian Brady, 41, Summit, N.J.
Alexander Braginsky, 38, Stamford, Conn.
Nicholas W. Brandemarti, 21, Mantua, N.J.
Michelle Renee Bratton, 23, Yonkers, N.Y.
Patrice Braut, 31, New York, N.Y.
Lydia Estelle Bravo, 50, Dunellen, N.J.
Ronald Michael Breitweiser, 39, Middletown Township, N.J.
Edward A. Brennan, 37, New York, N.Y.
Frank H. Brennan, 50, New York, N.Y.
Michael Emmett Brennan, 27, New York, N.Y.
Peter Brennan, 30, Ronkonkoma, N.Y.
Thomas M. Brennan, 32, Scarsdale, N.Y.
Capt. Daniel Brethel, 43, Farmingdale, N.Y.
Gary L. Bright, 36, Union City, N.J.
Jonathan Eric Briley, 43, Mount Vernon, N.Y.
Mark A. Brisman, 34, Armonk, N.Y.
Paul Gary Bristow, 27, New York, N.Y.
Victoria Alvarez Brito, 38, New York, N.Y.
Mark Francis Broderick, 42, Old Bridge, N.J.
Herman C. Broghammer, 58, North Merrick, N.Y.
Keith Broomfield, 49, New York, N.Y.
Janice J. Brown, 35, New York, N.Y.
Lloyd Brown, 28, Bronxville, N.Y.
Capt. Patrick J. Brown, 48, New York, N.Y.
Bettina Browne, 49, Atlantic Beach, N.Y.
Mark Bruce, 40, Summit, N.J.
Richard Bruehert, 38, Westbury, N.Y.
Andrew Brunn, 28
Capt. Vincent Brunton, 43, New York, N.Y.
Ronald Paul Bucca, 47, Tuckahoe, N.Y.
Brandon J. Buchanan, 24, New York, N.Y.
Greg Joseph Buck, 37, New York, N.Y.
Dennis Buckley, 38, Chatham, N.J.
Nancy Bueche, 43, Hicksville, N.Y.
Patrick Joseph Buhse, 36, Lincroft, N.J.
John E. Bulaga, 35, Paterson, N.J.
Stephen Bunin, 45, New York, N.Y.
Thomas Daniel Burke, 38, Bedford Hills, N.Y.
Capt. William F. Burke, 46, New York, N.Y.
Matthew J. Burke, 28, New York, N.Y.
Donald James Burns, 61, Nissequogue, N.Y.
Kathleen A. Burns, 49, New York, N.Y.
Keith James Burns, 39, East Rutherford, N.J.
John Patrick Burnside, 36, New York, N.Y.
Irina Buslo, 32, New York, N.Y.
Milton Bustillo, 37, New York, N.Y.
Thomas M. Butler, 37, Kings Park, N.Y.
Patrick Byrne, 39, New York, N.Y.
Timothy G. Byrne, 36, Manhattan, N.Y.
Jesus Cabezas, 66, New York, N.Y.
Lillian Caceres, 48, New York, N.Y.
Brian Joseph Cachia, 26, New York, N.Y.
Steven Cafiero, 31, New York, N.Y.
Richard M. Caggiano, 25, New York, N.Y.
Cecile M. Caguicla, 55, Boonton, N.J.
Michael John Cahill, 37, East Williston, N.Y.
Scott W. Cahill, 30, West Caldwell, N.J.
Thomas J. Cahill, 36, Franklin Lakes, N.J.
George Cain, 35, Massapequa, N.Y.
Salvatore B. Calabro, 38, New York, N.Y.
Joseph Calandrillo, 49, Hawley, Pa.
Philip V. Calcagno, 57, New York, N.Y.
Edward Calderon, 44, Jersey City, N.J.
Kenneth Marcus Caldwell, 30, New York, N.Y.
Dominick E. Calia, 40, Manalapan, N.J.
Felix (Bobby) Calixte, 38, New York, N.Y.
Capt. Frank Callahan, 51, New York, N.Y.
Liam Callahan, 44, Rockaway, N.J.
Luigi Calvi, 34, East Rutherford, N.J.
Roko Camaj, 60, Manhasset, N.Y.
Michael Cammarata, 22, Huguenot, N.Y.
David Otey Campbell, 51, Basking Ridge, N.J.
Geoffrey Thomas Campbell, 31, New York, N.Y.
Sandra Patricia Campbell, 45, New York, N.Y.
Jill Marie Campbell, 31, New York, N.Y.
Robert Arthur Campbell, 25, New York, N.Y.
Juan Ortega Campos, 32, New York, N.Y.
Sean Canavan, 39, New York, N.Y.
John A. Candela, 42, Glen Ridge, N.J.
Vincent Cangelosi, 30, New York, N.Y.
Stephen J. Cangialosi, 40, Middletown, N.J.
Lisa B. Cannava, 30, New York, N.Y.
Brian Cannizzaro, 30, New York, N.Y.
Michael R. Canty, 30, Schenectady, N.Y.
Louis A. Caporicci, 35, New York, N.Y.
Jonathan N. Cappello, 23, Garden City, N.Y.
James Christopher Cappers, 33, Wading River, N.Y.
Richard M. Caproni, 34, Lynbrook, N.Y.
Jose Cardona, 32, New York, N.Y.
Dennis M Carey, 51, Wantagh, N.Y.
Edward Carlino, 46, New York, N.Y.
Michael Scott Carlo, 34, New York, N.Y.
David G. Carlone, 46, Randolph, N.J.
Rosemarie C. Carlson, 40, New York, N.Y.
Mark Stephen Carney, 41, Rahway, N.J.
Joyce Ann Carpeneto, 40, New York, N.Y.
Alicia Acevedo Carranza, Teziutlan, Puebla, Mexico
Jeremy M. Carrington, 34, New York, N.Y.
Michael T. Carroll, 39, New York, N.Y.
Peter Carroll, 42, New York, N.Y.
James J. Carson, 32, Massapequa, N.Y.
James Marcel Cartier, 26, New York, N.Y.
Vivian Casalduc, 45, New York, N.Y.
John F. Casazza, 38, Colts Neck, N.J.
Paul Cascio, 23, Manhasset, N.Y.
Kathleen Hunt Casey, 43, Middletown, N.J.
Margarito Casillas, 54, Guadalajara, Jalisco, Mexico
Thomas Anthony Casoria, 29, New York, N.Y.
William Otto Caspar, 57, Eatontown, N.J.
Alejandro Castano, 35, Englewood, N.J.
Arcelia Castillo, 49, Elizabeth, N.J.
Leonard M. Castrianno, 30, New York, N.Y.
Jose Ramon Castro, 37, New York, N.Y.
Richard G. Catarelli, 47, New York, N.Y.
Christopher Sean Caton, 34, New York, N.Y.
Robert J. Caufield, 48, Valley Stream, N.Y.
Mary Teresa Caulfield, 58, New York, N.Y.
Judson Cavalier, 26, Huntington, N.Y.
Michael Joseph Cawley, 32, Bellmore, N.Y.
Jason D. Cayne, 32, Morganville, N.J.
Juan Armando Ceballos, 47, New York, N.Y.
Marcia G. Cecil-Carter, 34, New York, N.Y.
Jason Cefalu, 30, West Hempstead, N.Y.
Thomas J. Celic, 43, New York, N.Y.
Ana M. Centeno, 38, Bayonne, N.J.
Joni Cesta, 37, Bellmore, N.Y.
Jeffrey M. Chairnoff, 35, West Windsor, N.J.
Swarna Chalasani, 33, Jersey City, N.J.
William Chalcoff, 41, Roslyn, N.Y.
Eli Chalouh, 23, New York, N.Y.
Charles Lawrence (Chip) Chan, 23, New York, N.Y.
Mandy Chang, 40, New York, N.Y.
Mark L. Charette, 38, Millburn, N.J.
Gregorio Manuel Chavez, 48, New York, N.Y.
Jayceryll M. de Chavez, 24, Carteret, N.J.
Pedro Francisco Checo, 35, New York, N.Y.
Douglas MacMillan Cherry, 38, Maplewood, N.J.
Stephen Patrick Cherry, 41, Stamford, Conn.
Vernon Paul Cherry, 49, New York, N.Y.
Nestor Chevalier, 30, New York, N.Y.
Swede Joseph Chevalier, 26, Locust, N.J.
Alexander H. Chiang, 51, New City, N.Y.
Dorothy J. Chiarchiaro, 61, Glenwood, N.J.
Luis Alfonso Chimbo, 39, New York, N.Y.
Robert Chin, 33, New York, N.Y.
Wing Wai (Eddie) Ching, 29, Union, N.J.
Nicholas P. Chiofalo, 39, Selden, N.Y.
John Chipura, 39, New York, N.Y.
Peter A. Chirchirillo, 47, Langhorne, Pa.
Catherine E. Chirls, 47, Princeton, N.J.
Kyung (Kaccy) Cho, 30, Clifton, N.J.
Abul K. Chowdhury, 30, New York, N.Y.
Mohammed Salahuddin Chowdhury, 38, New York, N.Y.
Kirsten L. Christophe, 39, Maplewood, N.J.
Pamela Chu, 31, New York, N.Y.
Steven Paul Chucknick, 44, Cliffwood Beach, N.J.
Wai-ching Chung, 36, New York, N.Y.
Christopher Ciafardini, 30, New York, N.Y.
Alex F. Ciccone, 38, New Rochelle, N.Y.
Frances Ann Cilente, 26, New York, N.Y.
Elaine Cillo, 40, New York, N.Y.
Edna Cintron, 46, New York, N.Y.
Nestor Andre Cintron, 26, New York, N.Y.
Lt. Robert Dominick Cirri, 39, Nutley, N.J.
Juan Pablo Alvarez Cisneros, 23, Weehawken, N.J.
Gregory Alan Clark, 40, Teaneck, N.J.
Mannie Leroy Clark, 54, New York, N.Y.
Thomas R. Clark, 37, Summit, N.J.
Eugene Clark, 47, New York, N.Y.
Benjamin Keefe Clark, 39, New York, N.Y.
Christopher Robert Clarke, 34, Philadelphia, Pa.
Donna Clarke, 39, New York, N.Y.
Michael Clarke, 27, Prince's Bay, N.Y.
Suria R.E. Clarke, 30, New York, N.Y.
Kevin Francis Cleary, 38, New York, N.Y.
James D. Cleere, 55, Newton, Iowa
Geoffrey W. Cloud, 36, Stamford, Conn.
Susan M. Clyne, 42, Lindenhurst, N.Y.
Steven Coakley, 36, Deer Park, N.Y.
Jeffrey Coale, 31, Souderton, Pa.
Patricia A. Cody, 46, Brigantine, N.J.
Daniel Michael Coffey, 54, Newburgh, N.Y.
Jason Matthew Coffey, 25, Newburgh, N.Y.
Florence Cohen, 62, New York, N.Y.
Kevin Sanford Cohen, 28, Edison, N.J.
Anthony Joseph Coladonato, 47, New York, N.Y.
Mark J. Colaio, 34, New York, N.Y.
Stephen J. Colaio, 32, Montauk, N.Y.
Christopher M. Colasanti, 33, Hoboken, N.J.
Michel Paris Colbert, 39, West New York, N.J.
Kevin Nathaniel Colbert, 25, New York, N.Y.
Keith Eugene Coleman, 34, Warren, N.J.
Scott Thomas Coleman, 31, New York, N.Y.
Tarel Coleman, 32
Liam Joseph Colhoun, 34, Flushing,, N.Y.
Robert D. Colin, 49, West Babylon, N.Y.
Robert J. Coll, 35, Glen Ridge, N.J.
Jean Marie Collin, 42, New York, N.Y.
John Michael Collins, 42, New York, N.Y.
Michael L. Collins, 38, Montclair, N.J.
Thomas J. Collins, 36, New York, N.Y.
Joseph Collison, 50, New York, N.Y.
Patricia Malia Colodner, 39, New York, N.Y.
Linda M. Colon, 46, Perrineville, N.J.
Soledi Colon, 39, New York, N.Y.
Ronald Comer, 56, Northport, N.Y.
Jaime Concepcion, 46, New York, N.Y.
Albert Conde, 62, Englishtown, N.J.
Denease Conley, 44, New York, N.Y.
Susan Clancy Conlon, 41, New York, N.Y.
Margaret Mary Conner, 57, New York, N.Y.
John E. Connolly, 46, Allenwood, N.J.
Cynthia L. Connolly, 40, Metuchen, N.J.
James Lee Connor, 38, Summit, N.J.
Jonathan (J.C.) Connors, 55, Old Brookville, N.Y.
Kevin P. Connors, 55, Greenwich, Conn.
Kevin Francis Conroy, 47, New York, N.Y.
Brenda E. Conway, 40, New York, N.Y.
Dennis Michael Cook, 33, Colts Neck, N.J.
Helen D. Cook, 24, New York, N.Y.
John A. Cooper, 40, Bayonne, N.J.
Joseph J. Coppo, 47, New Canaan, Conn.
Gerard J. Coppola, 46, New Providence, N.J.
Joseph Albert Corbett, 28, Islip, N.Y.
Alejandro Cordero, 23, New York, N.Y.
Robert Cordice, 28, New York, N.Y.
Ruben D. Correa, 44, New York, N.Y.
Danny A. Correa-Gutierrez, 25, Fairview, N.J.
James Corrigan, 60, New York, N.Y.
Carlos Cortes, 57, New York, N.Y.
Kevin M. Cosgrove, 46, West Islip, N.Y.
Dolores Marie Costa, 53, Middletown, N.J.
Digna Alexandra Rivera Costanza, 25, New York, N.Y.
Charles Gregory Costello, 46, Old Bridge, N.J.
Michael S. Costello, 27, Hoboken, N.J.
Conrod K.H. Cottoy, 51, New York, N.Y.
Martin Coughlan, 54, New York, N.Y.
Sgt. John Gerard Coughlin, 43, Pomona, N.Y.
Timothy John Coughlin, 42, New York, N.Y.
James E. Cove, 48, Rockville Centre, N.Y.
Andre Cox, 29, New York, N.Y.
Frederick John Cox, 27, New York, N.Y.
James Raymond Coyle, 26, New York, N.Y.
Michelle Coyle-Eulau, 38, Garden City, N.Y.
Anne M. Cramer, 47, New York, N.Y.
Christopher Seton Cramer, 34, Manahawkin, N.J.
Denise Crant, 46, Hackensack, N.J.
Robert James Crawford, 62, New York, N.Y.
James L. Crawford, 33, Madison, N.J.
Joanne Mary Cregan, 32, New York, N.Y.
Lucia Crifasi, 51, Glendale, N.Y.
Lt. John Crisci, 48, Holbrook, N.Y.
Daniel Hal Crisman, 25, New York, N.Y.
Dennis A. Cross, 60, Islip Terrace, N.Y.
Helen Crossin-Kittle, 34, Larchmont, N.Y.
Kevin Raymond Crotty, 43, Summit, N.J.
Thomas G. Crotty, 42, Rockville Centre, N.Y.
John Crowe, 57, Rutherford, N.J.
Welles Remy Crowther, 24, Upper Nyack, N.Y.
Robert L. Cruikshank, 64, New York, N.Y.
Francisco Cruz, 47, New York, N.Y.
John Robert Cruz, 32, Jersey City, N.J.
Kenneth John Cubas, 48, Woodstock, N.Y.
Richard Joseph Cudina, 46, Glen Gardner, N.J.
Neil James Cudmore, 38, Port Washington, N.Y.
Thomas Patrick Cullen, 31, New York, N.Y.
Joan McConnell Cullinan, 47, Scarsdale, N.Y.
Joyce Cummings, 65
Brian Thomas Cummins, 38, Manasquan, N.J.
Nilton Albuquerque Fernao Cunha, 41
Michael Joseph Cunningham, 39, Princeton Junction, N.J.
Robert Curatolo, 31, New York, N.Y.
Laurence Curia, 41, Garden City, N.Y.
Paul Dario Curioli, 53, Norwalk, Conn.
Beverly Curry, 41, New York, N.Y.
Sgt. Michael Curtin, 45, Medford, N.Y.
Gavin Cushny, 47, Hoboken, N.J.
Caleb Arron Dack, 39, Montclair, N.J.
Carlos S. DaCosta, 41, Elizabeth, N.J.
John D'Allara, 47, Pearl River, N.Y.
Vincent D'Amadeo, 36, East Patchoque, N.Y.
Thomas A. Damaskinos, 33, Matawan, N.J.
Jack L. D'Ambrosi, 45, Woodcliff Lake, N.J.
Jeannine Marie Damiani-Jones, 28, New York, N.Y.
Patrick W. Danahy, 35, Yorktown Heights, N.Y.
Nana Kwuku Danso, 47, New York, N.Y.
Mary D'Antonio, 55, New York, N.Y.
Vincent G. Danz, 38, Farmingdale, N.Y.
Dwight Donald Darcy, 55, Bronxville, N.Y.
Elizabeth Ann Darling, 28, Newark, N.J.
Annette Andrea Dataram, 25, New York, N.Y.
Lt. Edward Alexander D'Atri, 38, New York, N.Y.
Michael D. D'Auria, 25, New York, N.Y.
Lawrence Davidson, 51, New York, N.Y.
Michael Allen Davidson, 27, Westfield, N.J.
Scott Matthew Davidson, 33, New York, N.Y.
Titus Davidson, 55, New York, N.Y.
Niurka Davila, 47, New York, N.Y.
Clinton Davis, 38, New York, N.Y.
Wayne Terrial Davis, 29, Fort Meade, Md.
Calvin Dawson, 46, New York, N.Y.
Anthony Richard Dawson, 32, Southampton, Hampshire, England
Edward James Day, 45, New York, N.Y.
Emerita (Emy) De La Pena, 32, New York, N.Y.
Melanie Louise De Vere, 30, London, England
William T. Dean, 35, Floral Park, N.Y.
Robert J. DeAngelis, 48, West Hempstead, N.Y.
Thomas P. Deangelis, 51, Westbury, N.Y.
Tara Debek, 35, Babylon, N.Y.
Anna Debin, 30, East Farmingdale, N.Y.
James V. DeBlase, 45, Manalapan, N.J.
Paul DeCola, 39, Ridgewood, N.Y.
Simon Dedvukaj, 26, Mohegan Lake, N.Y.
Jason Christopher DeFazio, 29, New York, N.Y.
David A. Defeo, 37, New York, N.Y.
Jennifer DeJesus, 23, New York, N.Y.
Monique E. DeJesus, 28, New York, N.Y.
Nereida DeJesus, 30, New York, N.Y.
Donald A. Delapenha, 37, Allendale, N.J.
Vito Joseph Deleo, 41, New York, N.Y.
Danielle Delie, 47, New York, N.Y.
Colleen Ann Deloughery, 41, Bayonne, N.J.
Francis (Frank) Albert DeMartini, 49, New York, N.Y.
Anthony Demas, 61, New York, N.Y.
Martin DeMeo, 47, Farmingville, N.Y.
Francis X. Deming, 47, Franklin Lakes, N.J.
Carol K. Demitz, 49, New York, N.Y.
Kevin Dennis, 43, Peapack, N.J.
Thomas F. Dennis, 43, Setauket, N.Y.
Jean C. DePalma, 42, Newfoundland, N.J.
Jose Nicolas Depena, 42, New York, N.Y.
Robert J. Deraney, 43, New York, N.Y.
Michael DeRienzo, 37, Hoboken, N.J.
David Paul Derubbio, 38, New York, N.Y.
Jemal Legesse DeSantis, 28, Jersey City, N.J.
Christian L. DeSimone, 23, Ringwood, N.J.
Edward DeSimone, 36, Atlantic Highlands, N.J.
Lt. Andrew Desperito, 44, Patchogue, N.Y.
Michael Jude D'Esposito, 32, Morganville, N.J.
Cindy Ann Deuel, 28, New York, N.Y.
Jerry DeVito, 66, New York, N.Y.
Robert P. Devitt, 36, Plainsboro, N.J.
Dennis Lawrence Devlin, 51, Washingtonville, N.Y.
Gerard Dewan, 35, New York, N.Y.
Simon Suleman Ali Kassamali Dhanani, 62, Hartsdale, N.Y.
Michael L. DiAgostino, 41, Garden City, N.Y.
Matthew Diaz, 33, New York, N.Y.
Nancy Diaz, 28, New York, N.Y.
Obdulio Ruiz Diaz, 44, New York, N.Y.
Lourdes Galletti Diaz, 32, New York, N.Y.
Michael Diaz-Piedra, 49
Judith Belguese Diaz-Sierra, 32, Bay Shore, N.Y.
Patricia F. DiChiaro, 63, New York, N.Y.
Joseph Dermot Dickey, 50, Manhasset, N.Y.
Lawrence Patrick Dickinson, 35, Morganville, N.J.
Michael David Diehl, 48, Brick, N.J.
John DiFato, 39, New York, N.Y.
Vincent F. DiFazio, 43, Hampton, N.J.
Carl DiFranco, 27, New York, N.Y.
Donald J. DiFranco, 43, New York, N.Y.
Debra Ann DiMartino, 36, New York, N.Y.
Stephen P. Dimino, 48, Basking Ridge, N.J.
William J. Dimmling, 47, Garden City, N.Y.
Christopher Dincuff, 31, Jersey City, N.J.
Jeffrey M. Dingle, 32, New York, N.Y.
Anthony DiOnisio, 38, Glen Rock, N.J.
George DiPasquale, 33, New York, N.Y.
Joseph DiPilato, 57, New York, N.Y.
Douglas Frank DiStefano, 24, Hoboken, N.J.
Ramzi A. Doany, 35, Bayonne, N.J., Jordanian
John J. Doherty, 58, Hartsdale, N.Y.
Melissa C. Doi, 32, New York, N.Y.
Brendan Dolan, 37, Glen Rock, N.J.
Neil Dollard, 28, Hoboken, N.J.
James Joseph Domanico, 56, New York, N.Y.
Benilda Pascua Domingo, 37, New York, N.Y.
Charles (Carlos) Dominguez, 34, East Meadow, N.Y.
Geronimo (Jerome) Mark Patrick Dominguez, 37, Holtsville, N.Y.
Lt. Kevin W. Donnelly, 43, New York, N.Y.
Jacqueline Donovan, 34, New York, N.Y.
Stephen Dorf, 39, New Milford, N.J.
Thomas Dowd, 37, Monroe, N.Y.
Lt. Kevin Christopher Dowdell, 46, New York, N.Y.
Mary Yolanda Dowling, 46, New York, N.Y.
Raymond M. Downey, 63, Deer Park, N.Y.
Joseph M. Doyle, 25, New York, N.Y.
Frank Joseph Doyle, 39, Englewood, N.J.
Randy Drake, 37, Lee's Summit, Mo.
Stephen Patrick Driscoll, 38, Lake Carmel, N.Y.
Mirna A. Duarte, 31, New York, N.Y.
Luke A. Dudek, 50, Livingston, N.J.
Christopher Michael Duffy, 23, New York, N.Y.
Gerard Duffy, 53, Manorville, N.Y.
Michael Joseph Duffy, 29, Northport, N.Y.
Thomas W. Duffy, 52, Pittsford, N.Y.
Antoinette Duger, 44, Belleville, N.J.
Jackie Sayegh Duggan, 34
Sareve Dukat, 53, New York, N.Y.
Christopher Joseph Dunne, 28, Mineola, N.Y.
Richard A. Dunstan, 54, New Providence, N.J.
Patrick Thomas Dwyer, 37, Nissequogue, N.Y.
Joseph Anthony Eacobacci, 26, New York, N.Y.
John Bruce Eagleson, 53, Middlefield, Conn.
Robert D. Eaton, 37, Manhasset, N.Y.
Dean P. Eberling, 44, Cranford, N.J.
Margaret Ruth Echtermann, 33, Hoboken, N.J.
Paul Robert Eckna, 28, West New York, N.J.
Constantine (Gus) Economos, 41, New York, N.Y.
Dennis Michael Edwards, 35, Huntington, N.Y.
Michael Hardy Edwards, 33, New York, N.Y.
Lisa Egan, 31, Cliffside Park, N.J.
Capt. Martin Egan, 36, New York, N.Y.
Michael Egan, 51, Middletown, N.J.
Christine Egan, 55, Winnipeg, Manitoba, Canada
Samantha Egan, 24, Jersey City, N.J.
Carole Eggert, 60, New York, N.Y.
Lisa Caren Weinstein Ehrlich, 36, New York, N.Y.
John Ernst (Jack) Eichler, 69, Cedar Grove, N.J.
Eric Adam Eisenberg, 32, Commack, N.Y.
Daphne F. Elder, 36, Newark, N.J.
Michael J. Elferis, 27, College Point, N.Y.
Mark J. Ellis, 26, South Huntington, N.Y.
Valerie Silver Ellis, 46, New York, N.Y.
Albert Alfy William Elmarry, 30, North Brunswick, N.J.
Edgar H. Emery, 45, Clifton, N.J.
Doris Suk-Yuen Eng, 30, New York, N.Y.
Christopher S. Epps, 29, New York, N.Y.
Ulf Ramm Ericson, 79, Greenwich, Conn.
Erwin L. Erker, 41, Farmingdale, N.Y.
William J. Erwin, 30, Verona, N.J.
Sarah (Ali) Escarcega, 35, New York, N.Y.
Jose Espinal, 31
Fanny M. Espinoza, 29, Teaneck, N.J.
Francis Esposito, 32, New York, N.Y.
Lt. Michael Esposito, 41, New York, N.Y.
William Esposito, 51, Bellmore, N.Y.
Brigette Ann Esposito, 34, New York, N.Y.
Ruben Esquilin, 35, New York, N.Y.
Sadie Ette, 36, New York, N.Y.
Barbara G. Etzold, 43, Jersey City, N.J.
Eric Brian Evans, 31, Weehawken, N.J.
Robert Edward Evans, 36, Franklin Square, N.Y.
Meredith Emily June Ewart, 29, Hoboken, N.J.
Catherine K. Fagan, 58, New York, N.Y.
Patricia M. Fagan, 55, Toms River, N.J.
Keith G. Fairben, 24, Floral Park, N.Y.
William Fallon, 38, Coram, N.Y.
William F. Fallon, 53, Rocky Hill, N.J.
Anthony J. Fallone, 39, New York, N.Y.
Dolores B. Fanelli, 38, Farmingville, N.Y.
John Joseph Fanning, 54, West Hempstead, N.Y.
Kathleen (Kit) Faragher, 33, Denver, Colo.
Capt. Thomas Farino, 37, Bohemia, N.Y.
Nancy Carole Farley, 45, Jersey City, N.J.
Elizabeth Ann (Betty) Farmer, 62, New York, N.Y.
Douglas Farnum, 33, New York, N.Y.
John W. Farrell, 41, Basking Ridge, N.J.
Terrence Patrick Farrell, 45, Huntington, N.Y.
John G. Farrell, 32, New York, N.Y.
Capt. Joseph Farrelly, 47, New York, N.Y.
Thomas P. Farrelly, 54, East Northport, N.Y.
Syed Abdul Fatha, 54, Newark, N.J.
Christopher Faughnan, 37, South Orange, N.J.
Wendy R. Faulkner, 47, Mason, Ohio
Shannon M. Fava, 30, New York, N.Y.
Bernard D. Favuzza, 52, Suffern, N.Y.
Robert Fazio, 41, Freeport, N.Y.
Ronald C. Fazio, 57, Closter, N.J.
William Feehan, 72, New York, N.Y.
Francis J. (Frank) Feely, 41, Middletown, N.Y.
Garth E. Feeney, 28, New York, N.Y.
Sean B. Fegan, 34, New York, N.Y.
Lee S. Fehling, 28, Wantagh, N.Y.
Peter Feidelberg, 34, Hoboken, N.J.
Alan D. Feinberg, 48, New York, N.Y.
Rosa Maria Feliciano, 30, New York, N.Y.
Edward T. Fergus, 40, Wilton, Conn.
George Ferguson, 54, Teaneck, N.J.
Henry Fernandez, 23, New York, N.Y.
Judy H. Fernandez, 27, Parlin, N.J.
Jose Manuel Contreras Fernandez, El Aguacate, Jalisco, Mexico
Elisa Giselle Ferraina, 27, London, England
Anne Marie Sallerin Ferreira, 29, Jersey City, N.J.
Robert John Ferris, 63, Garden City, N.Y.
David Francis Ferrugio, 46, Middletown, N.J.
Louis V. Fersini, 38, Basking Ridge, N.J.
Michael David Ferugio, 37, New York, N.Y.
Bradley James Fetchet, 24, New York, N.Y.
Jennifer Louise Fialko, 29, Teaneck, N.J.
Kristen Fiedel, 27, New York, N.Y.
Samuel Fields, 36, New York, N.Y.
Michael Bradley Finnegan, 37, Basking Ridge, N.J.
Timothy J. Finnerty, 33, Glen Rock, N.J.
Michael Curtis Fiore, 46, New York, N.Y.
Stephen J. Fiorelli, 43, Aberdeen, N.J.
Paul M. Fiori, 31, Yorktown Heights, N.Y.
John Fiorito, 40, Stamford, Conn.
Lt. John R. Fischer, 46, New York, N.Y.
Andrew Fisher, 42, New York, N.Y.
Thomas J. Fisher, 36, Union, N.J.
Bennett Lawson Fisher, 58, Stamford, Conn.
John Roger Fisher, 46, Bayonne, N.J.
Lucy Fishman, 37, New York, N.Y.
Ryan D. Fitzgerald, 26, New York, N.Y.
Thomas Fitzpatrick, 35, Tuckahoe, N.Y.
Richard P. Fitzsimons, 57, Lynbrook, N.Y.
Salvatore A. Fiumefreddo, 47, Manalapan, N.J.
Christina Donovan Flannery, 26, New York, N.Y.
Eileen Flecha, 33, New York, N.Y.
Andre G. Fletcher, 37, North Babylon, N.Y.
Carl Flickinger, 38, Conyers, N.Y.
John Joseph Florio, 33, Oceanside, N.Y.
Joseph W. Flounders, 46, East Stroudsburg, Pa.
David Fodor, 38, Garrison, N.Y.
Lt. Michael N. Fodor, 53, Warwick, N.Y.
Steven Mark Fogel, 40, Westfield, N.Y.
Thomas Foley, 32, West Nyack, N.Y.
David Fontana, 37, New York, N.Y.
Chih Min (Dennis) Foo, 40, Holmdel, N.J.
Del Rose Forbes-Cheatham, 48, New York, N.Y.
Godwin Forde, 39, New York, N.Y.
Donald A. Foreman, 53, New York, N.Y.
Christopher Hugh Forsythe, 44, Basking Ridge, N.J.
Claudia Alicia Martinez Foster, 26, New York, N.Y.
Noel J. Foster, 40, Bridgewater, N.J.
Ana Fosteris, 58, Coram, N.Y.
Robert J. Foti, 42, Albertson, N.Y.
Jeffrey L. Fox, 40, Cranbury, N.J.
Virginia Fox, 58, New York, N.Y.
Virgin (Lucy) Francis, 62, New York, N.Y.
Pauline Francis, 57, New York, N.Y.
Joan Francis
Gary J. Frank, 35, South Amboy, N.J.
Morton Frank, 31, New York, N.Y.
Peter Christopher Frank, 29, New York, N.Y.
Richard K. Fraser, 32, New York, N.Y.
Kevin Joseph Frawley, 34, Bronxville, N.Y.
Clyde Frazier, 41, New York, N.Y.
Lillian I. Frederick, 46, Teaneck, N.J.
Andrew Fredericks, 40, Suffern, N.Y.
Tamitha Freemen, 35, New York, N.Y.
Brett O. Freiman, 29, Roslyn, N.Y.
Lt. Peter L. Freund, 45, Westtown, N.Y.
Arlene E. Fried, 49, Roslyn Heights, N.Y.
Alan Wayne Friedlander, 52, Yorktown Heights, N.Y.
Andrew K. Friedman, 44, Woodbury, N.Y.
Gregg J. Froehner, 46, Chester, N.J.
Peter Christian Fry, 36, Wilton, Conn.
Clement Fumando, 59, New York, N.Y.
Steven Elliot Furman, 40, Wesley Hills, N.Y.
Paul James Furmato, 37, Colts Neck, N.J.
Fredric Gabler, 30, New York, N.Y.
Richard S. Gabrielle, 50, West Haven, Conn.
James Andrew Gadiel, 23, New York, N.Y.
Pamela Gaff, 51, Robinsville, N.J.
Ervin Vincent Gailliard, 42, New York, N.Y.
Deanna L. Galante, 32, New York, N.Y.
Grace Galante, 29, New York, N.Y.
Anthony Edward Gallagher, 41, New York, N.Y.
Daniel James Gallagher, 23, Red Bank, N.J.
John Patrick Gallagher, 31, Yonkers, N.Y.
Cono E. Gallo, 30, New York, N.Y.
Vincenzo Gallucci, 36, Monroe Township, N.J.
Thomas Edward Galvin, 32, New York, N.Y.
Giovanna (Genni) Gambale, 27, New York, N.Y.
Thomas Gambino, 48, Babylon, N.Y.
Giann F. Gamboa, 26, New York, N.Y.
Peter J. Ganci, 55, North Massapequa, N.Y.
Claude Michael Gann, 41, Roswell, Ga.
Lt. Charles William Garbarini, 44, Pleasantville, N.Y.
Cesar Garcia, 36, New York, N.Y.
David Garcia, 40, Freeport, N.Y.
Jorge Luis Morron Garcia, 38, New York, N.Y.
Juan Garcia, 50, New York, N.Y.
Marlyn C. Garcia, 21, New York, N.Y.
Christopher Gardner, 36, Darien, Conn.
Douglas B. Gardner, 39, New York, N.Y.
Harvey J. Gardner, 35, Lakewood, N.J.
Thomas A. Gardner, 39, Oceanside, N.Y.
Jeffrey B. Gardner, 36, Hoboken, N.J.
William Arthur Gardner, 45, Lynbrook, N.Y.
Francesco Garfi, 29, New York, N.Y.
Rocco Gargano, 28, Bayside, N.Y.
James M. Gartenberg, 36, New York, N.Y.
Matthew David Garvey, 37
Bruce Gary, 51, Bellmore, N.Y.
Palmina Delli Gatti, 33, New York, N.Y.
Boyd A. Gatton, 38, Jersey City, N.J.
Donald Richard Gavagan, 35, New York, N.Y.
Terence D. Gazzani, 24, New York, N.Y.
Gary Geidel, 44, New York, N.Y.
Paul Hamilton Geier, 36, Farmingdale, N.Y.
Julie M. Geis, 44, Lees Summit, Mo.
Peter Gelinas, 34, New York, N.Y.
Steven Paul Geller, 52, New York, N.Y.
Howard G. Gelling, 28, New York, N.Y.
Peter Victor Genco, 36, Rockville Centre, N.Y.
Steven Gregory Genovese, 37, Basking Ridge, N.J.
Alayne F. Gentul, 44, Mountain Lakes, N.J.
Edward F. Geraghty, 45, Rockville Centre, N.Y.
Suzanne Geraty, 30, New York, N.Y.
Ralph Gerhardt, 33, New York, N.Y.
Robert J. Gerlich, 56, Monroe, Conn.
Denis P. Germain, 33, Tuxedo Park, N.Y.
Marina R. Gertsberg, 25, New York, N.Y.
Susan M. Getzendanner, 57, New York, N.Y.
James Gerard Geyer, 41, Rockville Centre, N.Y.
Joseph M. Giaccone, 43, Monroe, N.J.
Lt. Vincent Francis Giammona, 40, Valley Stream, N.Y.
Debra L. Gibbon, 43, Hackettstown, N.J.
James A. Giberson, 43, New York, N.Y.
Craig Neil Gibson, 37, New York, N.Y.
Ronnie Gies, 43, Merrick, N.Y.
Laura A. Giglio, 35, Oceanside, N.Y.
Andrew Clive Gilbert, 39, Califon, N.J.
Timothy Paul Gilbert, 35, Lebanon, N.J.
Paul Stuart Gilbey, 39, Chatham, N.J.
Paul John Gill, 34, New York, N.Y.
Mark Y. Gilles, 33, New York, N.Y.
Evan H. Gillette, 40, New York, N.Y.
Ronald Gilligan, 43, Norwalk, Conn.
Sgt. Rodney C. Gillis, 34, New York, N.Y.
Laura Gilly, 32, New York, N.Y.
Lt. John F. Ginley, 37, Warwick, N.Y.
Jeffrey Giordano, 46, New York, N.Y.
John Giordano, 46, Newburgh, N.Y.
Donna Marie Giordano, 44, Parlin, N.J.
Steven A. Giorgetti, 43, Manhasset, N.Y.
Martin Giovinazzo, 34, New York, N.Y.
Kum-Kum Girolamo, 41, New York, N.Y.
Salvatore Gitto, 44, Manalapan, N.J.
Cynthia Giugliano, 46, Nesconset, N.Y.
Mon Gjonbalaj, 65, New York, N.Y.
Dianne Gladstone, 55, New York, N.Y.
Keith Alexander Glascoe, 38, New York, N.Y.
Thomas I. Glasser, 40, Summit, N.J.
Harry Glenn, 38, Piscataway, N.J.
Barry H. Glick, 55, Wayne, N.J.
Steven Lawrence Glick, 42, Greenwich, Conn.
John T. Gnazzo, 32, New York, N.Y.
William (Bill) Robert Godshalk, 35, New York, N.Y.
Michael Gogliormella, 43, New Providence, N.J.
Brian Fredric Goldberg, 26, Union, N.J.
Jeffrey Grant Goldflam, 48, Melville, N.Y.
Michelle Herman Goldstein, 31, New York, N.Y.
Monica Goldstein, 25, New York, N.Y.
Steven Goldstein, 35, Princeton, N.J.
Andrew H. Golkin, 30, New York, N.Y.
Dennis James Gomes, 40, New York, N.Y.
Enrique Antonio Gomez, 42, New York, N.Y.
Jose Bienvenido Gomez, 45, New York, N.Y.
Manuel Gomez, 42, New York, N.Y.
Wilder Gomez, 38, New York, N.Y.
Jenine Gonzalez, 27, New York, N.Y.
Joel Guevara Gonzalez, 23, Aguascalientes, Aguascalientes, Mexico
Rosa J. Gonzalez, 32, Jersey City, N.J.
Mauricio Gonzalez, 27, New York, N.Y.
Calvin J. Gooding, 38, Riverside, N.Y.
Harry Goody, 50, New York, N.Y.
Kiran Reddy Gopu, 24, Bridgeport, Conn.
Catherine Carmen Gorayeb, 41, New York, N.Y.
Kerene Gordon, 43, New York, N.Y.
Sebastian Gorki, 27, New York, N.Y.
Thomas E. Gorman, 41, Middlesex, N.J.
Kieran Gorman, 35, Yonkers, N.Y.
Michael Edward Gould, 29, Hoboken, N.J.
Yugi Goya, 42, Rye, N.Y.
Jon Richard Grabowski, 33, New York, N.Y.
Christopher Michael Grady, 39, Cranford, N.J.
Edwin John Graf, 48, Rowayton, Conn.
David M. Graifman, 40, New York, N.Y.
Gilbert Granados, 51, Hicksville, N.Y.
Elvira Granitto, 43, New York, N.Y.
Winston Arthur Grant, 59, West Hempstead, N.Y.
Christopher Stewart Gray, 32, Weehawken, N.J.
James Michael Gray, 34, New York, N.Y.
Linda Mair Grayling, 44, New York, N.Y.
John Michael Grazioso, 41, Middletown, N.J.
Timothy Grazioso, 42, Gulf Stream, Fla.
Derrick Arthur Green, 44, New York, N.Y.
Wade Brian Green, 42, Westbury, N.Y.
Elaine Myra Greenberg, 56, New York, N.Y.
Gayle R. Greene, 51, Montville, N.J.
James Arthur Greenleaf, 32, New York, N.Y.
Eileen Marsha Greenstein, 52, Morris Plains, N.J.
Elizabeth (Lisa) Martin Gregg, 52, New York, N.Y.
Donald H. Gregory, 62, Ramsey, N.J.
Florence M. Gregory, 38, New York, N.Y.
Denise Gregory, 39, New York, N.Y.
Pedro (David) Grehan, 35, Hoboken, N.J.
John M. Griffin, 38, Waldwick, N.J.
Tawanna Griffin, 30, New York, N.Y.
Joan D. Griffith, 39, Willingboro, N.J.
Warren Grifka, 54, New York, N.Y.
Ramon Grijalvo, 58
Joseph F. Grillo, 46, New York, N.Y.
David Grimner, 51, Merrick, N.Y.
Kenneth Grouzalis, 56, Lyndhurst, N.J.
Joseph Grzelak, 52, New York, N.Y.
Matthew J. Grzymalski, 34, New Hyde Park, N.Y.
Robert Joseph Gschaar, 55, Spring Valley, N.Y.
Liming (Michael) Gu, 34, Piscataway, N.J.
Jose A. Guadalupe, 37, New York, N.Y.
Yan Zhu (Cindy) Guan, 25, New York, N.Y.
Geoffrey E. Guja, 47, Lindenhurst, N.Y.
Lt. Joseph Gullickson, 37, New York, N.Y.
Babita Guman, 33, New York, N.Y.
Douglas B. Gurian, 38, Tenafly, N.J.
Philip T. Guza, 54, Sea Bright, N.J.
Barbara Guzzardo, 49, Glendale, N.Y.
Peter Gyulavary, 44, Warwick, N.Y.
Gary Robert Haag, 36, Ossining, N.Y.
Andrea Lyn Haberman, 25, Chicago, Ill.
Barbara M. Habib, 49, New York, N.Y.
Philip Haentzler, 49, New York, N.Y.
Nizam A. Hafiz, 32, New York, N.Y.
Karen Hagerty, 34, New York, N.Y.
Steven Hagis, 31, New York, N.Y.
Mary Lou Hague, 26, New York, N.Y.
David Halderman, 40, New York, N.Y.
Maile Rachel Hale, 26, Cambridge, Mass.
Richard Hall, 49, Purchase, N.Y.
Vaswald George Hall, 50, New York, N.Y.
Robert John Halligan, 59, Basking Ridge, N.J.
Lt. Vincent Gerard Halloran, 43, North Salem, N.Y.
James D. Halvorson, 56, Greenwich, Conn.
Mohammad Salman Hamdani, 23, New York, N.Y.
Felicia Hamilton, 62, New York, N.Y.
Robert Hamilton, 43, Washingtonville, N.Y.
Frederic Kim Han, 45, Marlboro, N.J.
Christopher James Hanley, 34, New York, N.Y.
Sean Hanley, 35, New York, N.Y.
Valerie Joan Hanna, 57, Freeville, N.Y.
Thomas Hannafin, 36, New York, N.Y.
Kevin James Hannaford, 32, Basking Ridge, N.J.
Michael L. Hannan, 34, Lynbrook, N.Y.
Dana Hannon, 29, Suffern, N.Y.
Vassilios G. Haramis, 56, New York, N.Y.
James A. Haran, 41, Malverne, N.Y.
Jeffrey P. Hardy, 46, New York, N.Y.
Timothy John Hargrave, 38, Readington, N.J.
Daniel Harlin, 41, Kent, N.Y.
Frances Haros, 76, New York, N.Y.
Lt. Harvey L. Harrell, 49, New York, N.Y.
Lt. Stephen Gary Harrell, 44, Warwick, N.Y.
Stewart D. Harris, 52, Marlboro, N.J.
Aisha Harris, 22, New York, N.Y.
John Patrick Hart, 38, Danville, Calif.
John Clinton Hartz, 64, Basking Ridge, N.J.
Emeric J. Harvey, 56, Montclair, N.J.
Capt. Thomas Theodore Haskell, 37, Massapequa, N.Y.
Timothy Haskell, 34, Seaford, N.Y.
Joseph John Hasson, 34, New York, N.Y.
Capt. Terence S. Hatton, 41, New York, N.Y.
Leonard William Hatton, 45, Ridgefield Park, N.J.
Michael Helmut Haub, 34, Roslyn Heights, N.Y.
Timothy Aaron Haviland, 41, Oceanside, N.Y.
Donald G. Havlish, 53, Yardley, Pa.
Anthony Hawkins, 30, New York, N.Y.
Nobuhiro Hayatsu, 36, Scarsdale, N.Y.
Philip Hayes, 67, Northport, N.Y.
William Ward Haynes, 35, Rye, N.Y.
Scott Hazelcorn, 29, Hoboken, N.J.
Lt. Michael K. Healey, 42, East Patchogue, N.Y.
Roberta Bernstein Heber, 60, New York, N.Y.
Charles Francis Xavier Heeran, 23, Belle Harbor, N.Y.
John Heffernan, 37, New York, N.Y.
Howard Joseph Heller, 37, Ridgefield, Conn.
JoAnn L. Heltibridle, 46, Springfield, N.J.
Mark F. Hemschoot, 45, Red Bank, N.J.
Ronnie Lee Henderson, 52, Newburgh, N.Y.
Janet Hendricks, 48, New York, N.Y.
Brian Hennessey, 35, Ringoes, N.J.
Michelle Marie Henrique, 27, New York, N.Y.
Joseph P. Henry, 25, New York, N.Y.
William Henry, 49, New York, N.Y.
John Henwood, 35, New York, N.Y.
Robert Allan Hepburn, 39, Union, N.J.
Mary (Molly) Herencia, 47, New York, N.Y.
Lindsay Coates Herkness, 58, New York, N.Y.
Harvey Robert Hermer, 59, New York, N.Y.
Claribel Hernandez, 31, New York, N.Y.
Norberto Hernandez, 42, New York, N.Y.
Raul Hernandez, 51, New York, N.Y.
Gary Herold, 44, Farmingdale, N.Y.
Jeffrey A. Hersch, 53, New York, N.Y.
Thomas Hetzel, 33, Elmont, N.Y.
Capt. Brian Hickey, 47, New York, N.Y.
Ysidro Hidalgo-Tejada, 47, New York, N.Y., Dominican Republic
Lt. Timothy Higgins, 43, Farmingville, N.Y.
Robert D. Higley, 29, New Fairfield, Conn.
Todd Russell Hill, 34, Boston, Mass.
Clara Victorine Hinds, 52, New York, N.Y.
Neal Hinds, 28, New York, N.Y.
Mark D. Hindy, 28, New York, N.Y.
Richard Bruce Van Hine, 48, Greenwood Lake, N.Y.
Katsuyuki Hirai, 32, Hartsdale, N.Y.
Heather Malia Ho, 32, New York, N.Y.
Tara Yvette Hobbs, 31, New York, N.Y.
Thomas A. Hobbs, 41, Baldwin, N.Y.
James L. Hobin, 47, Marlborough, Conn.
Robert Wayne Hobson, 36, New Providence, N.J.
DaJuan Hodges, 29, New York, N.Y.
Ronald George Hoerner, 58, Massapequa Park, N.Y.
Patrick Aloysius Hoey, 53, Middletown, N.J.
Stephen G. Hoffman, 36, Long Beach, N.Y.
Marcia Hoffman, 52, New York, N.Y.
Frederick J. Hoffmann, 53, Freehold, N.J.
Michele L. Hoffmann, 27, Freehold, N.J.
Judith Florence Hofmiller, 53, Brookfield, Conn.
Thomas Warren Hohlweck, 57, Harrison, N.Y.
Jonathan R. Hohmann, 48, New York, N.Y.
Joseph Francis Holland, 32, Glen Rock, N.J.
John Holland, 30
Elizabeth Holmes, 42, New York, N.Y.
Thomas P. Holohan, 36, Chester, N.Y.
Bradley Hoorn, 22, New York, N.Y.
James P. Hopper, 51, Farmingdale, N.Y.
Montgomery McCullough Hord, 46, Pelham, N.Y.
Michael Horn, 27, Lynbrook, N.Y.
Matthew D. Horning, 26, Hoboken, N.J.
Robert L. Horohoe, 31, New York, N.Y.
Aaron Horwitz, 24, New York, N.Y.
Charles J. Houston, 42, New York, N.Y.
Uhuru G. Houston, 32, Englewood, N.J.
George Howard, 45, Hicksville, N.Y.
Steven L. Howell, 36, New York, N.Y.
Michael C. Howell, 60, New York, N.Y.
Jennifer L. Howley, 34, New Hyde Park, N.Y.
Milagros "Millie" Hromada, 35, New York, N.Y.
Marian Hrycak, 56, New York, N.Y.
Stephen Huczko, 44, Bethlehem, N.J.
Kris R. Hughes, 30, Nesconset, N.Y.
Melissa Harrington Hughes, 31, San Francisco, Calif.
Thomas F. Hughes, 46, Spring Lake Heights, N.J.
Timothy Robert Hughes, 43, Madison, N.J.
Paul R. Hughes, 38, Stamford, Conn.
Robert T. "Bobby" Hughes, 23, Sayreville, N.J.
Susan Huie, 43, Fair Lawn, N.J.
Mychal Lamar Hulse, 30, New York, N.Y.
William C. Hunt, 32, Norwalk, Conn.
Joseph G. Hunter, 31, South Hempstead, N.Y.
Robert Hussa, 51, Roslyn, N.Y.
Capt. Walter Hynes, 46, Belle Harbor, N.Y.
Thomas E. Hynes, 28, Norwalk, Conn.
Joseph Anthony Ianelli, 28, Hoboken, N.J.
Zuhtu Ibis, 25, Clifton, N.J.
Jonathan Lee Ielpi, 29, Great Neck, N.Y.
Michael Patrick Iken, 37, New York, N.Y.
Daniel Ilkanayev, 36, New York, N.Y.
Capt. Frederick Ill, 49, Pearl River, N.Y.
Abraham Nethanel Ilowitz, 51, New York, N.Y.
Anthony P. Infante, 47, Chatham, N.J.
Louis S. Inghilterra, 45, New Castle, N.Y.
Christopher N. Ingrassia, 28, Watchung, N.J.
Paul Innella, 33, East Brunswick, N.J.
Stephanie V. Irby, 38, New York, N.Y.
Douglas Irgang, 32, New York, N.Y.
Todd A. Isaac, 29, New York, N.Y.
Erik Hans Isbrandtsen, 30, New York, N.Y.
Taizo Ishikawa, 50
Aram Iskenderian, 41, Merrick, N.Y.
John Iskyan, 41, Wilton, Conn.
Kazushige Ito, 35, New York, N.Y.
Aleksandr Valeryerich Ivantsov, 23, New York, N.Y.
Virginia Jablonski, 49, Matawan, N.J.
Brooke Alexandra Jackman, 23, New York, N.Y.
Aaron Jacobs, 27, New York, N.Y.
Jason Kyle Jacobs, 32, Mendham, N.J.
Michael Grady Jacobs, 54, Danbury, Conn.
Ariel Louis Jacobs, 29, Briarcliff Manor, N.Y.
Steven A. Jacobson, 53, New York, N.Y.
Ricknauth Jaggernauth, 58, New York, N.Y.
Jake Denis Jagoda, 24, Huntington, N.Y.
Yudh V.S. Jain, 54, New City, N.Y.
Maria Jakubiak, 41, Ridgewood, N.Y.
Gricelda E. James, 44, Willingboro, N.J.
Ernest James, 40, New York, N.Y.
Mark Jardim, 39, New York, N.Y.
Mohammed Jawara, 30, New York, N.Y.
Francois Jean-Pierre, 58, New York, N.Y.
Maxima Jean-Pierre, 40, Bellport, N.Y.
Paul E. Jeffers, 39, New York, N.Y.
Joseph Jenkins, 47, New York, N.Y.
Alan K. Jensen, 49, Wyckoff, N.J.
Prem N. Jerath, 57, Edison, N.J.
Farah Jeudy, 32, Spring Valley, N.Y.
Hweidar Jian, 42, East Brunswick, N.J.
Eliezer Jimenez, 38, New York, N.Y.
Luis Jimenez, 25, New York, N.Y.
Charles Gregory John, 44, New York, N.Y.
Nicholas John, 42, New York, N.Y.
Scott M. Johnson, 26, New York, N.Y.
LaShawana Johnson, 27, New York, N.Y.
William Johnston, 31, North Babylon, N.Y.
Arthur Joseph Jones, 37, Ossining, N.Y.
Allison Horstmann Jones, 31, New York, N.Y.
Brian L. Jones, 44, New York, N.Y.
Christopher D. Jones, 53, Huntington, N.Y.
Donald T. Jones, 39, Livingston, N.J.
Donald W. Jones, 43, Fairless Hills, Pa.
Linda Jones, 50, New York, N.Y.
Mary S. Jones, 72, New York, N.Y.
Andrew Jordan, 35, Remsenburg, N.Y.
Robert Thomas Jordan, 34, Williston, N.Y.
Ingeborg Joseph, 60, Germany
Karl Henri Joseph, 25, New York, N.Y.
Stephen Joseph, 39, Franklin Park, N.J.
Albert Joseph, 79
Jane Eileen Josiah, 47, Bellmore, N.Y.
Lt. Anthony Jovic, 39, Massapequa, N.Y.
Angel Luis Juarbe, 35, New York, N.Y.
Karen Susan Juday, 52, New York, N.Y.
The Rev. Mychal Judge, 68, New York, N.Y.
Paul W. Jurgens, 47, Levittown, N.Y.
Thomas Edward Jurgens, 26, Lawrence, N.Y.
Kacinga Kabeya, 63, McKinney, Texas
Shashi Kiran Lakshmikantha Kadaba, 25, Hackensack, N.J.
Gavkharoy Mukhometovna Kamardinova, 26, New York, N.Y.
Shari Kandell, 27, Wyckoff, N.J.
Howard Lee Kane, 40, Hazlet, N.J.
Jennifer Lynn Kane, 26, Fair Lawn, N.J.
Vincent D. Kane, 37, New York, N.Y.
Joon Koo Kang, 34, Riverdale, N.J.
Sheldon R. Kanter, 53, Edison, N.J.
Deborah H. Kaplan, 45, Paramus, N.J.
Alvin Peter Kappelmann, 57, Green Brook, N.J.
Charles Karczewski, 34, Union, N.J.
William A. Karnes, 37, New York, N.Y.
Douglas G. Karpiloff, 53, Mamaroneck, N.Y.
Charles L. Kasper, 54, New York, N.Y.
Andrew Kates, 37, New York, N.Y.
John Katsimatides, 31, East Marion, N.Y.
Sgt. Robert Kaulfers, 49, Kenilworth, N.J.
Don Jerome Kauth, 51, Saratoga Springs, N.Y.
Hideya Kawauchi, 36, Fort Lee, N.J.
Edward T. Keane, 66, West Caldwell, N.J.
Richard M. Keane, 54, Wethersfield, Conn.
Lisa Kearney-Griffin, 35, Jamaica, N.Y.
Karol Ann Keasler, 42, New York, N.Y.
Paul Hanlon Keating, 38, New York, N.Y.
Leo Russell Keene, 33, Westfield, N.J.
Joseph J. Keller, 31, Park Ridge, N.J.
Peter Rodney Kellerman, 35, New York, N.Y.
Joseph P. Kellett, 37, Riverdale, N.Y.
Frederick H. Kelley, 57, Huntington, N.Y.
James Joseph Kelly, 39, Oceanside, N.Y.
Joseph A. Kelly, 40, Oyster Bay, N.Y.
Maurice Patrick Kelly, 41, New York, N.Y.
Richard John Kelly, 50, New York, N.Y.
Thomas Michael Kelly, 41, Wyckoff, N.J.
Thomas Richard Kelly, 38, Riverhead, N.Y.
Thomas W. Kelly, 51, New York, N.Y.
Timothy C. Kelly, 37, Port Washington, N.Y.
William Hill Kelly, 30, New York, N.Y.
Robert C. Kennedy, 55, Toms River, N.J.
Thomas J. Kennedy, 36, Islip Terrace, N.Y.
John Keohane, 41, Jersey City, N.J.
Lt. Ronald T. Kerwin, 42, Levittown, N.Y.
Howard L. Kestenbaum, 56, Montclair, N.J.
Douglas D. Ketcham, 27, New York, N.Y.
Ruth E. Ketler, 42, New York, N.Y.
Boris Khalif, 30, New York, N.Y.
Sarah Khan, 32, New York, N.Y.
Taimour Firaz Khan, 29, New York, N.Y.
Rajesh Khandelwal, 33, South Plainfield, N.J.
SeiLai Khoo, 38, Jersey City, N.J.
Michael Kiefer, 25, Hempstead, N.Y.
Satoshi Kikuchihara, 43, Scarsdale, N.Y.
Andrew Jay-Hoon Kim, 26, Leonia, N.J.
Lawrence Don Kim, 31, Blue Bell, Pa.
Mary Jo Kimelman, 34, New York, N.Y.
Andrew Marshall King, 42, Princeton, N.J.
Lucille T. King, 59, Ridgewood, N.J.
Robert King, 36, Bellerose Terrace, N.Y.
Lisa M. King-Johnson, 34, New York, N.Y.
Takashi Kinoshita, 46, Rye, N.Y.
Chris Michael Kirby, 21, New York, N.Y.
Howard (Barry) Kirschbaum, 53, New York, N.Y.
Glenn Davis Kirwin, 40, Scarsdale, N.Y.
Richard J. Klares, 59, Somers, N.Y.
Peter A. Klein, 35, Weehawken, N.J.
Alan D. Kleinberg, 39, East Brunswick, N.J.
Karen J. Klitzman, 38, New York, N.Y.
Ronald Philip Kloepfer, 39, Franklin Square, N.Y.
Yevgeny Kniazev, 46, New York, N.Y.
Thomas Patrick Knox, 31, Hoboken, N.J.
Andrew Knox, 30, Adelaide, Australia
Rebecca Lee Koborie, 48, Guttenberg, N.J.
Deborah Kobus, 36, New York, N.Y.
Gary Edward Koecheler, 57, Harrison, N.Y.
Frank J. Koestner, 48, New York, N.Y.
Ryan Kohart, 26, New York, N.Y.
Vanessa Lynn Kolpak, 21, New York, N.Y.
Irina Kolpakova, 37, New York, N.Y.
Suzanne Kondratenko, 27, Chicago, Ill.
Abdoulaye Kone, 37, New York, N.Y.
Bon-seok Koo, 42, River Edge, N.J.
Dorota Kopiczko, 26, Nutley, N.J.
Scott Kopytko, 32, New York, N.Y.
Bojan Kostic, 34, New York, N.Y.
Danielle Kousoulis, 29, New York, N.Y.
John J. Kren, 52
William Krukowski, 36, New York, N.Y.
Lyudmila Ksido, 46, New York, N.Y.
Shekhar Kumar, 30, New York, N.Y.
Kenneth Kumpel, 42, Cornwall, N.Y.
Frederick Kuo, 53, Great Neck, N.Y.
Patricia Kuras, 42, New York, N.Y.
Nauka Kushitani, 44, New York, N.Y.
Thomas Joseph Kuveikis, 48, Carmel, N.Y.
Victor Kwarkye, 35, New York, N.Y.
Kui Fai Kwok, 31, New York, N.Y.
Angela R. Kyte, 49, Boonton, N.J.
Amarnauth Lachhman, 42, Valley Stream, N.Y.
Andrew LaCorte, 61, Jersey City, N.J.
Ganesh Ladkat, 27, Somerset, N.J.
James P. Ladley, 41, Colts Neck, N.J.
Daniel M. Van Laere, 46, Glen Rock, N.J.
Joseph A. Lafalce, 54, New York, N.Y.
Jeanette LaFond-Menichino, 49, New York, N.Y.
David LaForge, 50, Port Richmond, N.Y.
Michael Patrick LaForte, 39, Holmdel, N.J.
Alan Lafrance, 43
Juan Lafuente, 61, Poughkeepsie, N.Y.
Neil K. Lai, 59, East Windsor, N.J.
Vincent A. Laieta, 31, Edison, N.J.
William David Lake, 44, New York, N.Y.
Franco Lalama, 45, Nutley, N.J.
Chow Kwan Lam, 48, Maywood, N.J.
Stephen LaMantia, 38, Darien, Conn.
Amy Hope Lamonsoff, 29, New York, N.Y.
Robert T. Lane, 28, New York, N.Y.
Brendan M. Lang, 30, Red Bank, N.J.
Rosanne P. Lang, 42, Middletown, N.J.
Vanessa Langer, 29, Yonkers, N.Y.
Mary Lou Langley, 53, New York, N.Y.
Peter J. Langone, 41, Roslyn Heights, N.Y.
Thomas Langone, 39, Williston Park, N.Y.
Michele B. Lanza, 36, New York, N.Y.
Ruth Sheila Lapin, 53, East Windsor, N.J.
Carol Ann LaPlante, 59, New York, N.Y.
Ingeborg Astrid Desiree Lariby, 42, New York, N.Y.
Robin Larkey, 48, Chatham, N.J.
Christopher Randall Larrabee, 26, New York, N.Y.
Hamidou S. Larry, 37, New York, N.Y.
Scott Larsen, 35, New York, N.Y.
John Adam Larson, 37, Colonia, N.J.
Gary E. Lasko, 49, Memphis, Tenn.
Nicholas C. Lassman, 28, Cliffside Park, N.J.
Paul Laszczynski, 49, Paramus, N.J.
Jeffrey Latouche, 49, New York, N.Y.
Cristina de Laura
Oscar de Laura
Charles Laurencin, 61, New York, N.Y.
Stephen James Lauria, 39, New York, N.Y.
Maria Lavache, 60, New York, N.Y.
Denis F. Lavelle, 42, Yonkers, N.Y.
Jeannine M. LaVerde, 36, New York, N.Y.
Anna A. Laverty, 52, Middletown, N.J.
Steven Lawn, 28, West Windsor, N.J.
Robert A. Lawrence, 41, Summit, N.J.
Nathaniel Lawson, 61, New York, N.Y.
Eugen Lazar, 27, New York, N.Y.
James Patrick Leahy, 38, New York, N.Y.
Lt. Joseph Gerard Leavey, 45, Pelham, N.Y.
Neil Leavy, 34, New York, N.Y.
Leon Lebor, 51, Jersey City, N.J.
Kenneth Charles Ledee, 38, Monmouth, N.J.
Alan J. Lederman, 43, New York, N.Y.
Elena Ledesma, 36, New York, N.Y.
Alexis Leduc, 45, New York, N.Y.
Myung-woo Lee, 41, Lyndhurst, N.J.
David S. Lee, 37, West Orange, N.J.
Gary H. Lee, 62, Lindenhurst, N.Y.
Hyun-joon (Paul) Lee, 32, New York, N.Y.
Jong-min Lee, 24, New York, N.Y.
Juanita Lee, 44, New York, N.Y.
Lorraine Lee, 37, New York, N.Y.
Richard Y.C. Lee, 34, Great Neck, N.Y.
Yang Der Lee, 63, New York, N.Y.
Kathryn Blair Lee, 55, New York, N.Y.
Stuart (Soo-Jin) Lee, 30, New York, N.Y.
Linda C. Lee, 34, New York, N.Y.
Stephen Lefkowitz, 50, Belle Harbor, N.Y.
Adriana Legro, 32, New York, N.Y.
Edward J. Lehman, 41, Glen Cove, N.Y.
Eric Andrew Lehrfeld, 32, New York, N.Y.
David Ralph Leistman, 43, Garden City, N.Y.
David Prudencio LeMagne, 27, North Bergen, N.J.
Joseph A. Lenihan, 41, Greenwich, Conn.
John J. Lennon, 44, Howell, N.J.
John Robinson Lenoir, 38, Locust Valley, N.Y.
Jorge Luis Leon, 43, Union City, N.J.
Matthew Gerard Leonard, 38, New York, N.Y.
Michael Lepore, 39, New York, N.Y.
Charles Antoine Lesperance, 55
Jeffrey Earle LeVeen, 55, Manhasset, N.Y.
John D. Levi, 50, New York, N.Y.
Alisha Caren Levin, 33, New York, N.Y.
Neil D. Levin, 47, New York, N.Y.
Robert Levine, 56, West Babylon, N.Y.
Robert M. Levine, 66, Edgewater, N.J.
Shai Levinhar, 29, New York, N.Y.
Adam J. Lewis, 36, Fairfield, Conn.
Margaret Susan Lewis, 49, Elizabeth, N.J.
Ye Wei Liang, 27, New York, N.Y.
Orasri Liangthanasarn, 26, Bayonne, N.J.
Daniel F. Libretti, 43, New York, N.Y.
Ralph M. Licciardi, 30, West Hempstead, N.Y.
Edward Lichtschein, 35, New York, N.Y.
Steven B. Lillianthal, 38, Millburn, N.J.
Carlos R. Lillo, 37, Babylon, N.Y.
Craig Damian Lilore, 30, Lyndhurst, N.J.
Arnold A. Lim, 28, New York, N.Y.
Darya Lin, 32, Chicago, Ill.
Wei Rong Lin, 31, Jersey City, N.J.
Nickie L. Lindo, 31, New York, N.Y.
Thomas V. Linehan, 39, Montville, N.J.
Robert Thomas Linnane, 33, West Hempstead, N.Y.
Alan Linton, 26, Jersey City, N.J.
Diane Theresa Lipari, 42, New York, N.Y.
Kenneth P. Lira, 28, Paterson, N.J.
Francisco Alberto Liriano, 33, New York, N.Y.
Lorraine Lisi, 44, New York, N.Y.
Paul Lisson, 45, New York, N.Y.
Vincent Litto, 52, New York, N.Y.
Ming-Hao Liu, 41, Livingston, N.J.
Nancy Liz, 39, New York, N.Y.
Harold Lizcano, 31, East Elmhurst, N.Y.
Martin Lizzul, 31, New York, N.Y.
George A. Llanes, 33, New York, N.Y.
Elizabeth Claire Logler, 31, Rockville Centre, N.Y.
Catherine Lisa Loguidice, 30, New York, N.Y.
Jerome Robert Lohez, 30, Jersey City, N.J.
Michael W. Lomax, 37, New York, N.Y.
Laura M. Longing, 35, Pearl River, N.Y.
Salvatore P. Lopes, 40, Franklin Square, N.Y.
Daniel Lopez, 39, New York, N.Y.
Luis Lopez, 38, New York, N.Y.
Manuel L. Lopez, 54, Jersey City, N.J.
George Lopez, 40, Stroudsburg, Pa.
Joseph Lostrangio, 48, Langhorne, Pa.
Chet Louie, 45, New York, N.Y.
Stuart Seid Louis, 43, East Brunswick, N.J.
Joseph Lovero, 60, Jersey City, N.J.
Michael W. Lowe, 48, New York, N.Y.
Garry Lozier, 47, Darien, Conn.
John Peter Lozowsky, 45, New York, N.Y.
Charles Peter Lucania, 34, East Atlantic Beach, N.Y.
Edward (Ted) H. Luckett, 40, Fair Haven, N.J.
Mark G. Ludvigsen, 32, New York, N.Y.
Lee Charles Ludwig, 49, New York, N.Y.
Sean Thomas Lugano, 28, New York, N.Y.
Daniel Lugo, 45, New York, N.Y.
Marie Lukas, 32, New York, N.Y.
William Lum, 45, New York, N.Y.
Michael P. Lunden, 37, New York, N.Y.
Christopher Lunder, 34, Wall, N.J.
Anthony Luparello, 62, New York, N.Y.
Gary Lutnick, 36, New York, N.Y.
Linda Luzzicone, 33, New York, N.Y.
Alexander Lygin, 28, New York, N.Y.
Farrell Peter Lynch, 39, Centerport, N.Y.
James Francis Lynch, 47, Woodbridge, N.J.
Louise A. Lynch, 58, Amityville, N.Y.
Michael Lynch, 34, New York, N.Y.
Michael F. Lynch, 33, New Hyde Park, N.Y.
Michael Francis Lynch, 30, New York, N.Y.
Richard Dennis Lynch, 30, Bedford Hills, N.Y.
Robert H. Lynch, 44, Cranford, N.J.
Sean Patrick Lynch, 36, Morristown, N.J.
Sean Lynch, 34, New York, N.Y.
Michael J. Lyons, 32, Hawthorne, N.Y.
Patrick Lyons, 34, South Setauket, N.Y.
Monica Lyons, 53, New York, N.Y.
Robert Francis Mace, 43, New York, N.Y.
Jan Maciejewski, 37, New York, N.Y.
Catherine Fairfax MacRae, 23, New York, N.Y.
Richard B. Madden, 35, Westfield, N.J.
Simon Maddison, 40, Florham Park, N.J.
Noell Maerz, 29, Long Beach, N.Y.
Jeannieann Maffeo, 40, New York, N.Y.
Joseph Maffeo, 30, New York, N.Y.
Jay Robert Magazine, 48, New York, N.Y.
Charles Wilson Magee, 51, Wantagh, N.Y.
Brian Magee, 52, Floral Park, N.Y.
Joseph Maggitti, 47, Abingdon, Md.
Ronald E. Magnuson, 57, Park Ridge, N.J.
Daniel L. Maher, 50, Hamilton, N.J.
Thomas Anthony Mahon, 37, East Norwich, N.Y.
William Mahoney, 38, Bohemia, N.Y.
Joseph Maio, 32, Roslyn Harbor, N.Y.
Takashi Makimoto, 49, New York, N.Y.
Abdu Malahi, 37, New York, N.Y.
Debora Maldonado, 47, New York, N.Y.
Myrna T. Maldonado-Agosto, 49, New York, N.Y.
Alfred R. Maler, 39, Convent Station, N.J.
Gregory James Malone, 42, Hoboken, N.J.
Edward Francis (Teddy) Maloney, 32, Darien, Conn.
Joseph E. Maloney, 46, Farmingville, N.Y.
Gene E. Maloy, 41, New York, N.Y.
Christian Maltby, 37, Chatham, N.J.
Francisco Miguel (Frank) Mancini, 26, New York, N.Y.
Joseph Mangano, 53, Jackson, N.J.
Sara Elizabeth Manley, 31, New York, N.Y.
Debra M. Mannetta, 31, Islip, N.Y.
Terence J. Manning, 36, Rockville Centre, N.Y.
Marion Victoria (vickie) Manning, 27, Rochdale, N.Y.
James Maounis, 42, New York, N.Y.
Joseph Ross Marchbanks, 47, Nanuet, N.Y.
Peter Edward Mardikian, 29, New York, N.Y.
Edward Joseph Mardovich, 42, Lloyd Harbor, N.Y.
Lt. Charles Joseph Margiotta, 44, New York, N.Y.
Kenneth Joseph Marino, 40, Monroe, N.Y.
Lester Vincent Marino, 57, Massapequa, N.Y.
Vita Marino, 49, New York, N.Y.
Kevin D. Marlo, 28, New York, N.Y.
Jose J. Marrero, 32, Old Bridge, N.J.
John Marshall, 35, Congers, N.Y.
James Martello, 41, Rumson, N.J.
Michael A. Marti, 26, Glendale, N.Y.
Lt. Peter Martin, 43, Miller Place, N.Y.
William J. Martin, 35, Rockaway, N.J.
Brian E. Martineau, 37, Edison, N.J.
Betsy Martinez, 33, New York, N.Y.
Edward J. Martinez, 60, New York, N.Y.
Jose Angel Martinez, 49, Hauppauge, N.Y.
Robert Gabriel Martinez, 24, New York, N.Y.
Lizie Martinez-Calderon, 32, New York, N.Y.
Lt. Paul Richard Martini, 37, New York, N.Y.
Joseph A. Mascali, 44, New York, N.Y.
Bernard Mascarenhas, 54, Newmarket, Ontario, Canada
Stephen F. Masi, 55, New York, N.Y.
Nicholas G. Massa, 65, New York, N.Y.
Patricia A. Massari, 25, Glendale, N.Y.
Michael Massaroli, 38, New York, N.Y.
Philip W. Mastrandrea, 42, Chatham, N.J.
Rudolph Mastrocinque, 43, Kings Park, N.Y.
Joseph Mathai, 49, Arlington, Mass.
Charles William Mathers, 61, Sea Girt, N.J.
William A. Mathesen, 40, Morristown, N.J.
Marcello Matricciano, 31, New York, N.Y.
Margaret Elaine Mattic, 51, New York, N.Y.
Robert D. Mattson, 54, Green Pond, N.J.
Walter Matuza, 39, New York, N.Y.
Charles A. (Chuck) Mauro, 65, New York, N.Y.
Charles J. Mauro, 38, New York, N.Y.
Dorothy Mauro, 55, New York, N.Y.
Nancy T. Mauro, 51, New York, N.Y.
Tyrone May, 44, Rahway, N.J.
Keithroy Maynard, 30, New York, N.Y.
Robert J. Mayo, 46, Morganville, N.J.
Kathy Nancy Mazza-Delosh, 46, Farmingdale, N.Y.
Edward Mazzella, 62, Monroe, N.Y.
Jennifer Mazzotta, 23, New York, N.Y.
Kaaria Mbaya, 39, Edison, N.J.
James J. McAlary, 42, Spring Lake Heights, N.J.
Brian McAleese, 36, Baldwin, N.Y.
Patricia A. McAneney, 50, Pomona, N.Y.
Colin Richard McArthur, 52, Howell, N.J.
John McAvoy, 47, New York, N.Y.
Kenneth M. McBrayer, 49, New York, N.Y.
Brendan McCabe, 40, Sayville, N.Y.
Michael J. McCabe, 42, Rumson, N.J.
Thomas McCann, 46, Manalapan, N.J.
Justin McCarthy, 30, Port Washington, N.Y.
Kevin M. McCarthy, 42, Fairfield, Conn.
Michael Desmond McCarthy, 33, Huntington, N.Y.
Robert Garvin McCarthy, 33, Stony Point, N.Y.
Stanley McCaskill, 47, New York, N.Y.
Katie Marie McCloskey, 25, Mount Vernon, N.Y.
Tara McCloud-Gray, 30, New York, N.Y.
Charles Austin McCrann, 55, New York, N.Y.
Tonyell McDay, 25, Colonia, N.J.
Matthew T. McDermott, 34, Basking Ridge, N.J.
Joseph P. McDonald, 43, Livingston, N.J.
Brian G. McDonnell, 38, Wantagh, N.Y.
Michael McDonnell, 34, Red Bank, N.J.
John F. McDowell, 33, New York, N.Y.
Eamon J. McEneaney, 46, New Canaan, Conn.
John Thomas McErlean, 39, Larchmont, N.Y.
Daniel F. McGinley, 40, Ridgewood, N.J.
Mark Ryan McGinly, 26, New York, N.Y.
Lt. William E. McGinn, 43, New York, N.Y.
Thomas H. McGinnis, 41, Oakland, N.J.
Michael Gregory McGinty, 42, Foxboro, Mass.
Ann McGovern, 68, East Meadow, N.Y.
Scott Martin McGovern, 35, Wyckoff, N.J.
William J. McGovern, 49, Smithtown, N.Y.
Stacey S. McGowan, 38, Basking Ridge, N.J.
Francis Noel McGuinn, 48, Rye, N.Y.
Patrick J. McGuire, 40, Madison, N.J.
Thomas M. McHale, 33, Huntington, N.Y.
Keith McHeffey, 31, Monmouth Beach, N.J.
Denis J. McHugh, 36, New York, N.Y.
Dennis P. McHugh, 34, Sparkill, N.Y.
Michael Edward McHugh, 35, Tuckahoe, N.Y.
Ann M. McHugh, 35, New York, N.Y.
Robert G. McIlvaine, 26, New York, N.Y.
Donald James McIntyre, 38, New City, N.Y.
Stephanie McKenna, 45, New York, N.Y.
Barry J. McKeon, 47, Yorktown Heights, N.Y.
Evelyn C. McKinnedy, 60, New York, N.Y.
Darryl Leron McKinney, 26, New York, N.Y.
Robert C. McLaughlin, 29, Westchester, N.Y.
George Patrick McLaughlin, 36, Hoboken, N.J.
Gavin McMahon, 35, Bayonne, N.J.
Robert Dismas McMahon, 35, New York, N.Y.
Edmund M. McNally, 41, Fair Haven, N.J.
Daniel McNeal, 29, Towson, Md.
Walter Arthur McNeil, 53, Stroudsburg, Pa.
Sean Peter McNulty, 30, New York, N.Y.
Christine Sheila McNulty, 42, Peterborough, England
Robert William McPadden, 30, Pearl River, N.Y.
Terence A. McShane, 37, West Islip, N.Y.
Timothy Patrick McSweeney, 37, New York, N.Y.
Martin E. McWilliams, 35, Kings Park, N.Y.
Rocco A. Medaglia, 49, Melville, N.Y.
Abigail Cales Medina, 46, New York, N.Y.
Ana Iris Medina, 39, New York, N.Y.
Deborah Medwig, 46, Dedham, Mass.
William J. Meehan, 49, Darien, Conn.
Damian Meehan, 32, Glen Rock, N.J.
Alok Kumar Mehta, 23, Hempstead, N.Y.
Raymond Meisenheimer, 46, West Babylon, N.Y.
Manuel Emilio Mejia, 54, New York, N.Y.
Eskedar Melaku, 31, New York, N.Y.
Antonio Melendez, 30, New York, N.Y.
Mary Melendez, 44, Stroudsburg, Pa.
Yelena Melnichenko, 28, Brooklyn, N.Y.
Stuart Todd Meltzer, 32, Syosset, N.Y.
Diarelia Jovannah Mena, 30, New York, N.Y.
Charles Mendez, 38, Floral Park, N.Y.
Lizette Mendoza, 33, North Bergen, N.J.
Shevonne Mentis, 25, New York, N.Y.
Steve Mercado, 38, New York, N.Y.
Wesley Mercer, 70, New York, N.Y.
Ralph Joseph Mercurio, 47, Rockville Centre, N.Y.
Alan H. Merdinger, 47, Allentown, Pa.
George C. Merino, 39, New York, N.Y.
Yamel Merino, 24, Yonkers, N.Y.
George Merkouris, 35, Levittown, N.Y.
Deborah Merrick, 45
Raymond J. Metz, 37, Trumbull, Conn.
Jill A. Metzler, 32, Franklin Square, N.Y.
David Robert Meyer, 57, Glen Rock, N.J.
Nurul Huq Miah, 35, New York, N.Y.
William Edward Micciulli, 30, Matawan, N.J.
Martin Paul Michelstein, 57, Morristown, N.J.
Luis Clodoaldo Revilla Mier, 54
Peter T. Milano, 43, Middletown, N.J.
Gregory Milanowycz, 25, Cranford, N.J.
Lukasz T. Milewski, 21, New York, N.Y.
Craig James Miller, 29, Va.
Corey Peter Miller, 34, New York, N.Y.
Douglas C. Miller, 34, Port Jervis, N.Y.
Henry Miller, 52, Massapequa, N.Y.
Michael Matthew Miller, 39, Englewood, N.J.
Phillip D. Miller, 53, New York, N.Y.
Robert C. Miller, 55, Hasbrouck Heights, N.J.
Robert Alan Miller, 46, Matawan, N.J.
Joel Miller, 55, Baldwin, N.Y.
Benjamin Millman, 40, New York, N.Y.
Charles M. Mills, 61, Brentwood, N.Y.
Ronald Keith Milstein, 54, New York, N.Y.
Robert Minara, 54, Carmel, N.Y.
William G. Minardi, 46, Bedford, N.Y.
Louis Joseph Minervino, 54, Middletown, N.J.
Thomas Mingione, 34, West Islip, N.Y.
Wilbert Miraille, 29, New York, N.Y.
Domenick Mircovich, 40, Closter, N.J.
Rajesh A. Mirpuri, 30, Englewood Cliffs, N.J.
Joseph Mistrulli, 47, Wantagh, N.Y.
Susan Miszkowicz, 37, New York, N.Y.
Lt. Paul Thomas Mitchell, 46, New York, N.Y.
Richard Miuccio, 55, New York, N.Y.
Frank V. Moccia, 57, Hauppauge, N.Y.
Capt. Louis Joseph Modafferi, 45, New York, N.Y.
Boyie Mohammed, 50, New York, N.Y.
Lt. Dennis Mojica, 50, New York, N.Y.
Manuel Mojica, 37, Bellmore, N.Y.
Manuel Dejesus Molina, 31, New York, N.Y.
Kleber Rolando Molina, 44, New York, N.Y.
Fernando Jimenez Molinar, 21, Oaxaca, Mexico
Carl Molinaro, 32, New York, N.Y.
Justin J. Molisani, 42, Middletown Township, N.J.
Brian Patrick Monaghan, 21, New York, N.Y.
Franklin Monahan, 45, Roxbury, N.Y.
John Gerard Monahan, 47, Wanamassa, N.J.
Kristen Montanaro, 34, New York, N.Y.
Craig D. Montano, 38, Glen Ridge, N.J.
Michael Montesi, 39, Highland Mills, N.Y.
Cheryl Ann Monyak, 43, Greenwich, Conn.
Capt. Thomas Moody, 45, Stony Brook, N.Y.
Sharon Moore, 37, New York, N.Y.
Krishna Moorthy, 59, Briarcliff Manor, N.Y.
Abner Morales, 37, New York, N.Y.
Carlos Morales, 29, New York, N.Y.
Paula Morales, 42, New York, N.Y.
Luis Morales, 46, New York, N.Y.
John Moran, 43, Rockaway, N.Y.
John Christopher Moran, 38, Haslemere, Surrey, England
Kathleen Moran, 42, New York, N.Y.
Lindsay S. Morehouse, 24, New York, N.Y.
George Morell, 47, Mount. Kisco, N.Y.
Steven P. Morello, 52, Bayonne, N.J.
Vincent S. Morello, 34, New York, N.Y.
Arturo Alva Moreno, 47, Mexico City, Mexico
Yvette Nicole Moreno, 25, New York, N.Y.
Dorothy Morgan, 47, Hempstead, N.Y.
Richard Morgan, 66, Glen Rock, N.J.
Nancy Morgenstern, 32, New York, N.Y.
Sanae Mori, 27, Tokyo, Japan
Blanca Morocho, 26, New York, N.Y.
Leonel Morocho, 36, New York, N.Y.
Dennis G. Moroney, 39, Eastchester, N.Y.
Lynne Irene Morris, 22, Monroe, N.Y.
Seth A. Morris, 35, Kinnelon, N.J.
Stephen Philip Morris, 31, Ormond Beach, Fla.
Christopher M. Morrison, 34, Charlestown, Mass.
Ferdinand V. Morrone, 63, Lakewood, N.J.
William David Moskal, 50, Brecksville, Ohio
Manuel Da Mota, 43, Valley Stream, N.Y.
Marco Motroni, 57, Fort Lee, N.J.
Iouri A. Mouchinski, 55, New York, N.Y.
Jude J. Moussa, 35, New York, N.Y.
Peter C. Moutos, 44, Chatham, N.J.
Damion Mowatt, 21, New York, N.Y.
Christopher Mozzillo, 27, New York, N.Y.
Stephen V. Mulderry, 33, New York, N.Y.
Richard Muldowney, 40, Babylon, N.Y.
Michael D. Mullan, 34, New York, N.Y.
Dennis Michael Mulligan, 32, New York, N.Y.
Peter James Mulligan, 28, New York, N.Y.
Michael Joseph Mullin, 27, Hoboken, N.J.
James Donald Munhall, 45, Ridgewood, N.J.
Nancy Muniz, 45, New York, N.Y.
Carlos Mario Munoz, 43
Francisco Munoz, 29, New York, N.Y.
Theresa (Terry) Munson, 54, New York, N.Y.
Robert M. Murach, 45, Montclair, N.J.
Cesar Augusto Murillo, 32, New York, N.Y.
Marc A. Murolo, 28, Maywood, N.J.
Robert Eddie Murphy, 56, New York, N.Y.
Brian Joseph Murphy, 41, New York, N.Y.
Christopher W. Murphy, 35, Easton, Md.
Edward C. Murphy, 42, Clifton, N.J.
James F. Murphy, 30, Garden City, N.Y.
James Thomas Murphy, 35, Middletown, N.J.
Kevin James Murphy, 40, Northport, N.Y.
Patrick Sean Murphy, 36, Millburn, N.J.
Lt. Raymond E. Murphy, 46, New York, N.Y.
Charles Murphy, 38, New York, N.Y.
John Joseph Murray, 32, Hoboken, N.J.
John Joseph Murray, 52, Colts Neck, N.J.
Susan D. Murray, 54, Summit, N.J.
Valerie Victoria Murray, 65, New York, N.Y.
Richard Todd Myhre, 37, New York, N.Y.
Lt. Robert B. Nagel, 55, New York, N.Y.
Takuya Nakamura, 30, Tuckahoe, N.Y.
Alexander J.R. Napier, 38, Morris Township, N.J.
Frank Joseph Naples, 29, Cliffside Park, N.J.
John Napolitano, 33, Ronkonkoma, N.Y.
Catherine A. Nardella, 40, Bloomfield, N.J.
Mario Nardone, 32, New York, N.Y.
Manika Narula, 22, Kings Park, N.Y.
Narender Nath, 33, Colonia, N.J.
Karen S. Navarro, 30, New York, N.Y.
Joseph M. Navas, 44, Paramus, N.J.
Francis J. Nazario, 28, Jersey City, N.J.
Glenroy Neblett, 42, New York, N.Y.
Marcus R. Neblett, 31, Roslyn Heights, N.Y.
Jerome O. Nedd, 39, New York, N.Y.
Laurence Nedell, 51, Lindenhurst, N.Y.
Luke G. Nee, 44, Stony Point, N.Y.
Pete Negron, 34, Bergenfield, N.J.
Ann Nicole Nelson, 30, New York, N.Y.
David William Nelson, 50, New York, N.Y.
James Nelson, 40, Clark, N.J.
Michele Ann Nelson, 27, Valley Stream, N.Y.
Peter Allen Nelson, 42, Huntington Station, N.Y.
Oscar Nesbitt, 58, New York, N.Y.
Gerard Terence Nevins, 46, Campbell Hall, N.Y.
Christopher Newton-Carter, 51, Middletown, N.J.
Kapinga Ngalula, 58, McKinney, Texas
Nancy Yuen Ngo, 36, Harrington Park, N.J.
Jody Tepedino Nichilo, 39, New York, N.Y.
Martin Niederer, 23, Hoboken, N.J.
Alfonse J. Niedermeyer, 40, Manasquan, N.J.
Frank John Niestadt, 55, Ronkonkoma, N.Y.
Gloria Nieves, 48, New York, N.Y.
Juan Nieves, 56, New York, N.Y.
Troy Edward Nilsen, 33, New York, N.Y.
Paul R. Nimbley, 42, Middletown, N.J.
John Ballantine Niven, 44, Oyster Bay, N.Y.
Katherine (Katie) McGarry Noack, 30, Hoboken, N.J.
Curtis Terrence Noel, 22, Poughkeepsie, N.Y.
Daniel R. Nolan, 44, Hopatcong, N.J.
Robert Walter Noonan, 36, Norwalk, Conn.
Daniela R. Notaro, 25, New York, N.Y.
Brian Novotny, 33, Hoboken, N.J.
Soichi Numata, 45, Irvington, N.Y.
Brian Felix Nunez, 29, New York, N.Y.
Jose R. Nunez, 42, New York, N.Y.
Jeffrey Nussbaum, 37, Oceanside, N.Y.
James A. Oakley, 52, Cortlandt Manor, N.Y.
Dennis O'Berg, 28, Babylon, N.Y.
James P. O'Brien, 33, New York, N.Y.
Scott J. O'Brien, 40, New York, N.Y.
Timothy Michael O'Brien, 40, Brookville, N.Y.
Michael O'Brien, 42, Cedar Knolls, N.J.
Captain Daniel O'Callaghan, 42, Smithtown, N.Y.
Richard J. O'Connor, 49, Poughkeepsie, N.Y.
Dennis J. O'Connor, 34, New York, N.Y.
Diana J. O'Connor, 38, Eastchester, N.Y.
Keith K. O'Connor, 28, Hoboken, N.J.
Amy O'Doherty, 23, New York, N.Y.
Marni Pont O'Doherty, 31, Armonk, N.Y.
Douglas Oelschlager, 36, New York, N.Y.
Takashi Ogawa, 37, Tokyo, Japan
Albert Ogletree, 49, New York, N.Y.
Philip Paul Ognibene, 39, New York, N.Y.
James Andrew O'Grady, 32, Harrington Park, N.J.
Joseph J. Ogren, 30, New York, N.Y.
Lt. Thomas O'Hagan, 43, New York, N.Y.
Samuel Oitice, 45, Peekskill, N.Y.
Patrick O'Keefe, 44, Oakdale, N.Y.
Capt. William O'Keefe, 49, New York, N.Y.
Gerald Michael Olcott, 55, New Hyde Park, N.Y.
Gerald O'Leary, 34, Stony Point, N.Y.
Christine Anne Olender, 39, New York, N.Y.
Elsy Carolina Osorio Oliva, 27, New York, N.Y.
Linda Mary Oliva, 44, New York, N.Y.
Edward K. Oliver, 31, Jackson, N.J.
Leah E. Oliver, 24, New York, N.Y.
Eric T. Olsen, 41, New York, N.Y.
Jeffrey James Olsen, 31, New York, N.Y.
Maureen L. Olson, 50, Rockville Centre, N.Y.
Steven John Olson, 38, New York, N.Y.
Matthew Timothy O'Mahony, 39, New York, N.Y.
Toshihiro Onda, 39, New York, N.Y.
Seamus L. Oneal, 52, New York, N.Y.
John P. O'Neill, 49, New York, N.Y.
Sean Gordon Corbett O'Neill, 34, Rye, N.Y.
Peter J. O'Neill, 21, Amityville, N.Y.
Michael C. Opperman, 45, Selden, N.Y.
Christopher Orgielewicz, 35, Larchmont, N.Y.
Margaret Orloske, 50, Windsor, Conn.
Virginia A. Ormiston, 42, New York, N.Y.
Kevin O'Rourke, 44, Hewlett, N.Y.
Juan Romero Orozco, Acatlan de Osorio, Puebla, Mexico
Ronald Orsini, 59, Hillsdale, N.J.
Peter K. Ortale, 37, New York, N.Y.
Emilio (Peter) Ortiz, 38, New York, N.Y.
David Ortiz, 37, Nanuet, N.Y.
Paul Ortiz, 21, New York, N.Y.
Sonia Ortiz, 58, New York, N.Y.
Alexander Ortiz, 36, Ridgewood, N.Y.
Pablo Ortiz, 49, New York, N.Y.
Masaru Ose, 36, Fort Lee, N.J.
Robert W. O'Shea, 47, Wall, N.J.
Patrick J. O'Shea, 45, Farmingdale, N.Y.
James Robert Ostrowski, 37, Garden City, N.Y.
Timothy O'Sullivan, 68, Albrightsville, Pa.
Jason Douglas Oswald, 28, New York, N.Y.
Michael Otten, 42, East Islip, N.Y.
Isidro Ottenwalder, 35, New York, N.Y.
Michael Chung Ou, 53, New York, N.Y.
Todd Joseph Ouida, 25, River Edge, N.J.
Jesus Ovalles, 60, New York, N.Y.
Peter J. Owens, 42, Williston Park, N.Y.
Adianes Oyola, 23, New York, N.Y.
Angel M. Pabon, 54, New York, N.Y.
Israel Pabon, 31, New York, N.Y.
Roland Pacheco, 25, New York, N.Y.
Michael Benjamin Packer, 45, New York, N.Y.
Deepa K. Pakkala, 31, Stewartsville, N.J.
Jeffrey Matthew Palazzo, 33, New York, N.Y.
Thomas Anthony Palazzo, 44, Armonk, N.Y.
Richard (Rico) Palazzolo, 39, New York, N.Y.
Orio Joseph Palmer, 45, Valley Stream, N.Y.
Frank A. Palombo, 46, New York, N.Y.
Alan N. Palumbo, 42, New York, N.Y.
Christopher M. Panatier, 36, Rockville Centre, N.Y.
Dominique Pandolfo, 27, Hoboken, N.J.
Paul Pansini, 34, New York, N.Y.
John M. Paolillo, 51, Glen Head, N.Y.
Edward J. Papa, 47, Oyster Bay, N.Y.
Salvatore Papasso, 34, New York, N.Y.
James N. Pappageorge, 29, Yonkers, N.Y.
Vinod K. Parakat, 34, Sayreville, N.J.
Vijayashanker Paramsothy, 23, New York, N.Y.
Nitin Ramesh Parandkar, 28, Waltham, Mass.
Hardai (Casey) Parbhu, 42, New York, N.Y.
James Wendell Parham, 32, New York, N.Y.
Debra (Debbie) Paris, 48, New York, N.Y.
George Paris, 33, New York, N.Y.
Gye-Hyong Park, 28, New York, N.Y.
Philip L. Parker, 53, Skillman, N.J.
Michael A. Parkes, 27, New York, N.Y.
Robert Emmett Parks, 47, Middletown, N.J.
Hasmukhrai Chuckulal Parmar, 48, Warren, N.J.
Robert Parro, 35, Levittown, N.Y.
Diane Marie Moore Parsons, 58, Malta, N.Y.
Leobardo Lopez Pascual, 41, New York, N.Y.
Michael J. Pascuma, 50, Massapequa Park, N.Y.
Jerrold H. Paskins, 56, Anaheim Hills, Calif.
Horace Robert Passananti, 55, New York, N.Y.
Suzanne H. Passaro, 38, East Brunswick, N.J.
Victor Antonio Martinez Pastrana, 38, Tlachichuca, Puebla, Mexico
Manish K. Patel, 29, Edison, N.J.
Avnish Ramanbhai Patel, 28, New York, N.Y.
Dipti Patel, 38, New Hyde Park, N.Y.
Steven B. Paterson, 40, Ridgewood, N.J.
James Matthew Patrick, 30, Norwalk, Conn.
Manuel Patrocino, 34
Bernard E. Patterson, 46, Upper Brookville, N.Y.
Cira Marie Patti, 40, New York, N.Y.
Robert Edward Pattison, 40, New York, N.Y.
James R. Paul, 58, New York, N.Y.
Sharon Cristina Millan Paz, 31, New York, N.Y.
Patrice Paz, 52, New York, N.Y.
Victor Paz-Gutierrez, 43, New York, N.Y.
Stacey L. Peak, 36, New York, N.Y.
Richard Allen Pearlman, 18, New York, N.Y.
Durrell Pearsall, 34, Hempstead, N.Y.
Thomas E. Pedicini, 30, Hicksville, N.Y.
Todd D. Pelino, 34, Fair Haven, N.J.
Michel Adrian Pelletier, 36, Greenwich, Conn.
Anthony Peluso, 46, New York, N.Y.
Angel Ramon Pena, 45, River Vale, N.J.
Richard Al Penny, 53, New York, N.Y.
Salvatore F. Pepe, 45, New York, N.Y.
Carl Allen Peralta, 37, New York, N.Y.
Robert David Peraza, 30, New York, N.Y.
Jon A. Perconti, 32, Brick, N.J.
Alejo Perez, 66, Union City, N.J.
Angel Perez, 43, Jersey City, N.J.
Angela Susan Perez, 35, New York, N.Y.
Ivan Perez, 37, New York, N.Y.
Nancy E. Perez, 36, Secaucus, N.J.
Anthony Perez, 33, Locust Valley, N.Y.
Joseph John Perroncino, 33, Smithtown, N.Y.
Edward J. Perrotta, 43, Mount Sinai, N.Y.
Lt. Glenn C. Perry, 41, Monroe, N.Y.
Emelda Perry, 52, Elmont, N.Y.
John William Perry, 38, New York, N.Y.
Franklin Allan Pershep, 59, New York, N.Y.
Daniel Pesce, 34, New York, N.Y.
Michael J. Pescherine, 32, New York, N.Y.
Davin Peterson, 25, New York, N.Y.
William Russel Peterson, 46, New York, N.Y.
Mark Petrocelli, 28, New York, N.Y.
Lt. Philip S. Petti, 43, New York, N.Y.
Glen Kerrin Pettit, 30, Oakdale, N.Y.
Dominick Pezzulo, 36, New York, N.Y.
Kaleen E. Pezzuti, 28, Fair Haven, N.J.
Lt. Kevin Pfeifer, 42, New York, N.Y.
Tu-Anh Pham, 42, Princeton, N.J.
Lt. Kenneth John Phelan, 41, New York, N.Y.
Michael V. San Phillip, 55, Ridgewood, N.J.
Eugenia Piantieri, 55, New York, N.Y.
Ludwig John Picarro, 44, Basking Ridge, N.J.
Matthew Picerno, 44, Holmdel, N.J.
Joseph O. Pick, 40, Hoboken, N.J.
Christopher Pickford, 32, New York, N.Y.
Dennis J. Pierce, 54, New York, N.Y.
Joseph A. Della Pietra, 24, New York, N.Y.
Bernard T. Pietronico, 39, Matawan, N.J.
Nicholas P. Pietrunti, 38, Belford, N.J.
Theodoros Pigis, 60, New York, N.Y.
Susan Elizabeth Ancona Pinto, 44, New York, N.Y.
Joseph Piskadlo, 48, North Arlington, N.J.
Christopher Todd Pitman, 30, New York, N.Y.
Josh Michael Piver, 23, New York, N.Y.
Joseph Plumitallo, 45, Manalapan, N.J.
John M. Pocher, 36, Middletown, N.J.
William Howard Pohlmann, 56, Ardsley, N.Y.
Laurence M. Polatsch, 32, New York, N.Y.
Thomas H. Polhemus, 39, Morris Plains, N.J.
Steve Pollicino, 48, Plainview, N.Y.
Susan M. Pollio, 45, Long Beach Township, N.J.
Joshua Poptean, 37, New York, N.Y.
Giovanna Porras, 24, New York, N.Y.
Anthony Portillo, 48, New York, N.Y.
James Edward Potorti, 52, Princeton, N.J.
Daphne Pouletsos, 47, Westwood, N.J.
Richard Poulos, 55, Levittown, N.Y.
Stephen E. Poulos, 45, Basking Ridge, N.J.
Brandon Jerome Powell, 26, New York, N.Y.
Shawn Edward Powell, 32, New York, N.Y.
Tony Pratt, 43, New York, N.Y.
Gregory M. Preziose, 34, Holmdel, N.J.
Wanda Ivelisse Prince, 30, New York, N.Y.
Vincent Princiotta, 39, Orangeburg, N.Y.
Kevin Prior, 28, Bellmore, N.Y.
Everett Martin (Marty) Proctor, 44, New York, N.Y.
Carrie B. Progen, 25, New York, N.Y.
David Lee Pruim, 53, Upper Montclair, N.J.
Richard Prunty, 57, Sayville, N.Y.
John F. Puckett, 47, Glen Cove, N.Y.
Robert D. Pugliese, 47, East Fishkill, N.Y.
Edward F. Pullis, 34, Hazlet, N.J.
Patricia Ann Puma, 33, New York, N.Y.
Hemanth Kumar Puttur, 26, White Plains, N.Y.
Edward R. Pykon, 33, Princeton, N.J.
Christopher Quackenbush, 44, Manhasset, N.Y.
Lars Peter Qualben, 49, New York, N.Y.
Lincoln Quappe, 38, Sayville, N.Y.
Beth Ann Quigley, 25, New York, N.Y.
Lt. Michael Quilty, 42, New York, N.Y.
Ricardo Quinn, 40, New York, N.Y.
James Francis Quinn, 23, New York, N.Y.
Carol Rabalais, 38, New York, N.Y.
Christopher Peter A. Racaniello, 30, New York, N.Y.
Leonard Ragaglia, 36, New York, N.Y.
Eugene J. Raggio, 55, New York, N.Y.
Laura Marie Ragonese-Snik, 41, Bangor, Pa.
Michael Ragusa, 29, New York, N.Y.
Peter F. Raimondi, 46, New York, N.Y.
Harry A. Raines, 37, New York, N.Y.
Ehtesham U. Raja, 28, Clifton, N.J.
Valsa Raju, 39, Yonkers, N.Y.
Edward Rall, 44, Holbrook, N.Y.
Lukas (Luke) Rambousek, 27, New York, N.Y.
Julio Fernandez Ramirez, 51, New York, N.Y.
Maria Isabel Ramirez, 25, New York, N.Y.
Harry Ramos, 41, Newark, N.J.
Vishnoo Ramsaroop, 44, New York, N.Y.
Lorenzo Ramzey, 48, East Northport, N.Y.
A. Todd Rancke, 42, Summit, N.J.
Adam David Rand, 30, Bellmore, N.Y.
Jonathan C. Randall, 42, New York, N.Y.
Srinivasa Shreyas Ranganath, 26, Hackensack, N.J.
Anne Rose T. Ransom, 45, Edgewater, N.J.
Faina Rapoport, 45, New York, N.Y.
Robert Arthur Rasmussen, 42, Hinsdale, Ill.
Amenia Rasool, 33, New York, N.Y.
Roger Mark Rasweiler, 53, Flemington, N.J.
David Alan James Rathkey, 47, Mountain Lakes, N.J.
William Ralph Raub, 38, Saddle River, N.J.
Gerard Rauzi, 42, New York, N.Y.
Alexey Razuvaev, 40, New York, N.Y.
Gregory Reda, 33, New Hyde Park, N.Y.
Sarah Prothero Redheffer, 35, London, England
Michele Reed, 26, Ringoes, N.J.
Judith A. Reese, 56, Kearny, N.J.
Donald J. Regan, 47, Wallkill, N.Y.
Lt. Robert M. Regan, 48, Floral Park, N.Y.
Thomas M. Regan, 43, Cranford, N.J.
Christian Michael Otto Regenhard, 28, New York, N.Y.
Howard Reich, 59, New York, N.Y.
Gregg Reidy, 26, Holmdel, N.J.
Kevin O. Reilly, 28, New York, N.Y.
James Brian Reilly, 25, New York, N.Y.
Timothy E. Reilly, 40, New York, N.Y.
Joseph Reina, 32, New York, N.Y.
Thomas Barnes Reinig, 48, Bernardsville, N.J.
Frank B. Reisman, 41, Princeton, N.J.
Joshua Scott Reiss, 23, New York, N.Y.
Karen Renda, 52, New York, N.Y.
John Armand Reo, 28, Larchmont, N.Y.
Richard Rescorla, 62, Morristown, N.J.
John Thomas Resta, 40, New York, N.Y.
Sylvia San Pio Resta, 26, New York, N.Y.
Eduvigis (Eddie) Reyes, 37, New York, N.Y.
Bruce A. Reynolds, 41, Columbia, N.J.
John Frederick Rhodes, 57, Howell, N.J.
Francis S. Riccardelli, 40, Westwood, N.J.
Rudolph N. Riccio, 50, New York, N.Y.
AnnMarie (Davi) Riccoboni, 58, New York, N.Y.
Eileen Mary Rice, 57, New York, N.Y.
David Rice, 31, New York, N.Y.
Kenneth F. Rice, 34, Hicksville, N.Y.
Lt. Vernon Allan Richard, 53, Nanuet, N.Y.
Claude D. Richards, 46, New York, N.Y.
Gregory Richards, 30, New York, N.Y.
Michael Richards, 38, New York, N.Y.
Venesha O. Richards, 26, North Brunswick, N.J.
James C. Riches, 29, New York, N.Y.
Alan Jay Richman, 44, New York, N.Y.
John M. Rigo, 48, New York, N.Y.
Theresa (Ginger) Risco, 48, New York, N.Y.
Rose Mary Riso, 55, New York, N.Y.
Moises N. Rivas, 29, New York, N.Y.
Joseph Rivelli, 43, New York, N.Y.
Isaias Rivera, 51, Perth Amboy, N.J.
Linda Rivera, 26, New York, N.Y.
Juan William Rivera, 27, New York, N.Y.
Carmen A. Rivera, 33, Westtown, N.Y.
David E. Rivers, 40, New York, N.Y.
Joseph R. Riverso, 34, White Plains, N.Y.
Paul Rizza, 34, Park Ridge, N.J.
John Frank Rizzo, 50, New York, N.Y.
Stephen Louis Roach, 36, Verona, N.J.
Joseph Roberto, 37, Midland Park, N.J.
Leo A. Roberts, 44, Wayne, N.J.
Michael Roberts, 30, New York, N.Y.
Michael Edward Roberts, 31, New York, N.Y.
Donald Walter Robertson, 35, Rumson, N.J.
Catherina Robinson, 45, New York, N.Y.
Jeffrey Robinson, 38, Monmouth Junction, N.J.
Michell Lee Robotham, 32, Kearny, N.J.
Donald Robson, 52, Manhasset, N.Y.
Antonio Augusto Tome Rocha, 34, East Hanover, N.J.
Raymond J. Rocha, 29, Malden, Mass.
Laura Rockefeller, 41, New York, N.Y.
John M. Rodak, 39, Mantua, N.J.
Antonio Jose Carrusca Rodrigues, 35, Port Washington, N.Y.
Anthony Rodriguez, 36, New York, N.Y.
Carmen Milagros Rodriguez, 46, Freehold, N.J.
Marsha A. Rodriguez, 41, West Paterson, N.J.
Richard Rodriguez, 31, Cliffwood, N.J.
Gregory E. Rodriguez, 31, White Plains, N.Y.
David B. Rodriguez-Vargas, 44, New York, N.Y.
Matthew Rogan, 37, West Islip, N.Y.
Karlie Barbara Rogers, 25, London, England
Scott Rohner, 22, Hoboken, N.J.
Keith Roma, 27, New York, N.Y.
Joseph M. Romagnolo, 37, Coram, N.Y.
Elvin Santiago Romero, 34, Matawan, N.J.
Efrain Franco Romero, 57, Hazleton, Pa.
James A. Romito, 51, Westwood, N.J.
Sean Rooney, 50, Stamford, Conn.
Eric Thomas Ropiteau, 24, New York, N.Y.
Aida Rosario, 42, Jersey City, N.J.
Angela Rosario, 27, New York, N.Y.
Fitzroy St. Rose, 40, New York, N.Y.
Mark H. Rosen, 45, West Islip, N.Y.
Linda Rosenbaum, 41, Little Falls, N.J.
Brooke David Rosenbaum, 31, Franklin Square, N.Y.
Sheryl Lynn Rosenbaum, 33, Warren, N.J.
Lloyd D. Rosenberg, 31, Morganville, N.J.
Mark Louis Rosenberg, 26, Teaneck, N.J.
Andrew I. Rosenblum, 45, Rockville Centre, N.Y.
Joshua M. Rosenblum, 28, Hoboken, N.J.
Joshua A. Rosenthal, 44, New York, N.Y.
Richard David Rosenthal, 50, Fair Lawn, N.J.
Daniel Rossetti, 32, Bloomfield, N.J.
Norman Rossinow, 39, Cedar Grove, N.J.
Nicholas P. Rossomando, 35, New York, N.Y.
Michael Craig Rothberg, 39, Greenwich, Conn.
Donna Marie Rothenberg, 53, New York, N.Y.
Nick Rowe, 29, Hoboken, N.J.
Timothy A. Roy, 36, Massapequa Park, N.Y.
Paul G. Ruback, 50, Newburgh, N.Y.
Ronald J. Ruben, 36, Hoboken, N.J.
Joanne Rubino, 45, New York, N.Y.
David Michael Ruddle, 31, New York, N.Y.
Bart Joseph Ruggiere, 32, New York, N.Y.
Susan Ann Ruggiero, 30, Plainview, N.Y.
Adam K. Ruhalter, 40, Plainview, N.Y.
Gilbert Ruiz, 57, New York, N.Y.
Stephen P. Russell, 40, Rockaway Beach, N.Y.
Steven Harris Russin, 32, Mendham, N.J.
Lt. Michael Thomas Russo, 44, Nesconset, N.Y.
Wayne Alan Russo, 37, Union, N.J.
John J. Ryan, 45, West Windsor, N.J.
Edward Ryan, 42, Scarsdale, N.Y.
Jonathan Stephan Ryan, 32, Bayville, N.Y.
Matthew Lancelot Ryan, 54, Seaford, N.Y.
Kristin A. Irvine Ryan, 30, New York, N.Y.
Tatiana Ryjova, 36, South Salem, N.Y.
Christina Sunga Ryook, 25, New York, N.Y.
Thierry Saada, 27, New York, N.Y.
Jason E. Sabbag, 26, New York, N.Y.
Thomas E. Sabella, 44, New York, N.Y.
Scott Saber, 36, New York, N.Y.
Joseph Sacerdote, 48, Freehold, N.J.
Mohammad Ali Sadeque, 62, New York, N.Y.
Francis J. Sadocha, 41, Huntington, N.Y.
Jude Elias Safi, 24, New York, N.Y.
Brock Joel Safronoff, 26, New York, N.Y.
Edward Saiya, 49, New York, N.Y.
John Patrick Salamone, 37, North Caldwell, N.J.
Hernando R. Salas, 71, New York, N.Y.
Juan Salas, 35, New York, N.Y.
Esmerlin Salcedo, 36, New York, N.Y.
John Salvatore Salerno, 31, Westfield, N.J.
Richard L. Salinardi, 32, Hoboken, N.J.
Wayne John Saloman, 43, Seaford, N.Y.
Nolbert Salomon, 33, New York, N.Y.
Catherine Patricia Salter, 37, New York, N.Y.
Frank Salvaterra, 41, Manhasset, N.Y.
Paul R. Salvio, 27, New York, N.Y.
Samuel R. Salvo, 59, Yonkers, N.Y.
Carlos Samaniego, 29, New York, N.Y.
Rena Sam-Dinnoo, 28, New York, N.Y.
James Kenneth Samuel, 29, Hoboken, N.J.
Hugo Sanay-Perafiel, 41, New York, N.Y.
Alva Jeffries Sanchez, 41, Hempstead, N.Y.
Jacquelyn P. Sanchez, 23, New York, N.Y.
Erick Sanchez, 43, New York, N.Y.
Eric Sand, 36, Westchester, N.Y.
Stacey Leigh Sanders, 25, New York, N.Y.
Herman Sandler, 57, New York, N.Y.
James Sands, 39, Bricktown, N.J.
Ayleen J. Santiago, 40, New York, N.Y.
Kirsten Santiago, 26, New York, N.Y.
Maria Theresa Santillan, 27, Morris Plains, N.J.
Susan G. Santo, 24, New York, N.Y.
Christopher Santora, 23, New York, N.Y.
John Santore, 49, New York, N.Y.
Mario L. Santoro, 28, New York, N.Y.
Rafael Humberto Santos, 42, New York, N.Y.
Rufino Conrado F. (Roy) Santos, 37, New York, N.Y.
Kalyan K. Sarkar, 53, Westwood, N.J.
Chapelle Sarker, 37, New York, N.Y.
Paul F. Sarle, 38, Babylon, N.Y.
Deepika Kumar Sattaluri, 33, Edison, N.J.
Gregory Thomas Saucedo, 31, New York, N.Y.
Susan Sauer, 48, Chicago, Ill.
Anthony Savas, 72, New York, N.Y.
Vladimir Savinkin, 21, New York, N.Y.
John Sbarbaro, 45, New York, N.Y.
Robert L. Scandole, 36, Pelham Manor, N.Y.
Michelle Scarpitta, 26, New York, N.Y.
Dennis Scauso, 46, Dix Hills, N.Y.
John A. Schardt, 34, New York, N.Y.
John G. Scharf, 29, Manorville, N.Y.
Fred Claude Scheffold, 57, Piermont, N.Y.
Angela Susan Scheinberg, 46, New York, N.Y.
Scott M. Schertzer, 28, Edison, N.J.
Sean Schielke, 27, New York, N.Y.
Steven Francis Schlag, 41, Franklin Lakes, N.J.
Jon S. Schlissel, 51, Jersey City, N.J.
Karen Helene Schmidt, 42, Bellmore, N.Y.
Ian Schneider, 45, Short Hills, N.J.
Thomas G. Schoales, 27, Stony Point, N.Y.
Marisa Di Nardo Schorpp, 38, White Plains, N.Y.
Frank G. Schott, 39, Massapequa Park, N.Y.
Gerard P. Schrang, 45, Holbrook, N.Y.
Jeffrey Schreier, 48, New York, N.Y.
John T. Schroeder, 31, Hoboken, N.J.
Susan Lee Kennedy Schuler, 55, Allentown, N.J.
Edward W. Schunk, 54, Baldwin, N.Y.
Mark E. Schurmeier, 44, McLean, Va.
Clarin Shellie Schwartz, 51, New York, N.Y.
John Schwartz, 49, Goshen, Conn.
Mark Schwartz, 50, West Hempstead, N.Y.
Adriane Victoria Scibetta, 31, New York, N.Y.
Raphael Scorca, 61, Beachwood, N.J.
Randolph Scott, 48, Stamford, Conn.
Christopher J. Scudder, 34, Monsey, N.Y.
Arthur Warren Scullin, 57, New York, N.Y.
Michael Seaman, 41, Manhasset, N.Y.
Margaret Seeliger, 34, New York, N.Y.
Carlos Segarra, 54, New York, N.Y.
Anthony Segarra, 52, New York, N.Y.
Jason Sekzer, 31, New York, N.Y.
Matthew Carmen Sellitto, 23, Morristown, N.J.
Howard Selwyn, 47, Hewlett, N.Y.
Larry John Senko, 34, Yardley, Pa.
Arturo Angelo Sereno, 29, New York, N.Y.
Frankie Serrano, 23, Elizabeth, N.J.
Alena Sesinova, 57, New York, N.Y.
Adele Sessa, 36, New York, N.Y.
Sita Nermalla Sewnarine, 37, New York, N.Y.
Karen Lynn Seymour-Dietrich, 40, Millington, N.J.
Davis (Deeg) Sezna, 22, New York, N.Y.
Thomas Joseph Sgroi, 45, New York, N.Y.
Jayesh Shah, 38, Edgewater, N.J.
Khalid M. Shahid, 25, Union, N.J.
Mohammed Shajahan, 41, Spring Valley, N.Y.
Gary Shamay, 23, New York, N.Y.
Earl Richard Shanahan, 50, New York, N.Y.
Shiv Shankar, New York, N.Y.
Neil G. Shastri, 25, New York, N.Y.
Kathryn Anne Shatzoff, 37, New York, N.Y.
Barbara A. Shaw, 57, Morris Township, N.J.
Jeffrey J. Shaw, 42, Levittown, N.Y.
Robert J. Shay, 27, New York, N.Y.
Daniel James Shea, 37, Pelham Manor, N.Y.
Joseph Patrick Shea, 47, Pelham, N.Y.
Linda Sheehan, 40, New York, N.Y.
Hagay Shefi, 34, Tenafly, N.J.
John Anthony Sherry, 34, Rockville Centre, N.Y.
Atsushi Shiratori, 36, New York, N.Y.
Thomas Shubert, 43, New York, N.Y.
Mark Shulman, 47, Old Bridge, N.J.
See-Wong Shum, 44, Westfield, N.J.
Allan Shwartzstein, 37, Chappaqua, N.Y.
Johanna Sigmund, 25, Wyndmoor, Pa.
Dianne T. Signer, 32, New York, N.Y.
Gregory Sikorsky, 34, Spring Valley, N.Y.
Stephen Gerard Siller, 34, West Brighton, N.Y.
David Silver, 35, New Rochelle, N.Y.
Craig A. Silverstein, 41, Wyckoff, N.J.
Nasima H. Simjee, 38, New York, N.Y.
Bruce Edward Simmons, 41, Ridgewood, N.J.
Arthur Simon, 57, Thiells, N.Y.
Kenneth Alan Simon, 34, Secaucus, N.J.
Michael John Simon, 40, Harrington Park, N.J.
Paul Joseph Simon, 54, New York, N.Y.
Marianne Simone, 62, New York, N.Y.
Barry Simowitz, 64, New York, N.Y.
Jeff Simpson, 38, Lake Ridge, Va.
Roshan R. (Sean) Singh, 21, New York, N.Y.
Khamladai K. (Khami) Singh, 25, New York, N.Y.
Thomas E. Sinton, 44, Croton-on-hudson, N.Y.
Peter A. Siracuse, 29, New York, N.Y.
Muriel F. Siskopoulos, 60, New York, N.Y.
Joseph M. Sisolak, 35, New York, N.Y.
John P. Skala, 31, Clifton, N.J.
Francis J. Skidmore, 58, Mendham, N.J.
Toyena Corliss Skinner, 27, Kingston, N.J.
Paul A. Skrzypek, 37, New York, N.Y.
Christopher Paul Slattery, 31, New York, N.Y.
Vincent R. Slavin, 41, Belle Harbor, N.Y.
Robert Sliwak, 42, Wantagh, N.Y.
Paul K. Sloan, 26, New York, N.Y.
Stanley S. Smagala, 36, Holbrook, N.Y.
Wendy L. Small, 26, New York, N.Y.
Catherine T. Smith, 44, West Haverstraw, N.Y.
Daniel Laurence Smith, 47, Northport, N.Y.
George Eric Smith, 38, West Chester, Pa.
James G. Smith, 43, Garden City, N.Y.
Joyce Smith, 55, New York, N.Y.
Karl Trumbull Smith, 44, Little Silver, N.J.
Kevin Smith, 47, Mastic, N.Y.
Leon Smith, 48, New York, N.Y.
Moira Smith, 38, New York, N.Y.
Rosemary A. Smith, 61, New York, N.Y.
Sandra Fajardo Smith, 37, New York, N.Y.
Jeffrey Randall Smith, 36, New York, N.Y.
Bonnie S. Smithwick, 54, Quogue, N.Y.
Rochelle Monique Snell, 24, Mount Vernon, N.Y.
Leonard J. Snyder, 35, Cranford, N.J.
Astrid Elizabeth Sohan, 32, Freehold, N.J.
Sushil Solanki, 35, New York, N.Y.
Ruben Solares, 51, New York, N.Y.
Naomi Leah Solomon, 52, New York, N.Y.
Daniel W. Song, 34, New York, N.Y.
Michael C. Sorresse, 34, Morris Plains, N.J.
Fabian Soto, 31, Harrison, N.J.
Timothy P. Soulas, 35, Basking Ridge, N.J.
Gregory T. Spagnoletti, 32, New York, N.Y.
Donald F. Spampinato, 39, Manhasset, N.Y.
Thomas Sparacio, 35, New York, N.Y.
John Anthony Spataro, 32, Mineola, N.Y.
Robert W. Spear, 30, Valley Cottage, N.Y.
Maynard S. Spence, 42, Douglasville, Ga.
George E. Spencer, 50, West Norwalk, Conn.
Robert Andrew Spencer, 35, Red Bank, N.J.
Mary Rubina Sperando, 39, New York, N.Y.
Frank J. Spinelli, 44, Short Hills, N.J.
William E. Spitz, 49, Oceanside, N.Y.
Joseph P. Spor, 35, Yorktown Heights, N.Y.
Klaus Johannes Sprockamp, 42, Muhltal, Germany
Saranya Srinuan, 23, New York, N.Y.
Michael F. Stabile, 50, New York, N.Y.
Lawrence T. Stack, 58, Lake Ronkonkoma, N.Y.
Capt. Timothy Stackpole, 42, New York, N.Y.
Richard James Stadelberger, 55, Middletown, N.J.
Eric A. Stahlman, 43, Holmdel Township, N.J.
Gregory M. Stajk, 46, Long Beach, N.Y.
Corina Stan, 31, Middle Village, N.Y.
Alexandru Liviu Stan, 34, New York, N.Y.
Mary D. Stanley, 53, New York, N.Y.
Joyce Stanton
Patricia Stanton
Anthony M. Starita, 35, Westfield, N.J.
Jeffrey Stark, 30, New York, N.Y.
Derek James Statkevicus, 30, Norwalk, Conn.
Craig William Staub, 30, Basking Ridge, N.J.
William V. Steckman, 56, West Hempstead, N.Y.
Eric Thomas Steen, 32, New York, N.Y.
William R. Steiner, 56, New Hope, Pa.
Alexander Robbins Steinman, 32, Hoboken, N.J.
Andrew Stergiopoulos, 23, New York, N.Y.
Andrew Stern, 41, Bellmore, N.Y.
Martha Jane Stevens, 55, New York, N.Y.
Richard H. Stewart, 35, New York, N.Y.
Michael James Stewart, 42, New York, N.Y.
Sanford M. Stoller, 54, New York, N.Y.
Lonny J. Stone, 43, Bellmore, N.Y.
Jimmy Nevill Storey, 58, Katy, Texas
Timothy Stout, 42, Dobbs Ferry, N.Y.
Thomas S. Strada, 41, Chatham, N.J.
James J. Straine, 36, Oceanport, N.J.
Edward W. Straub, 48, Morris Township, N.J.
George Strauch, 53, Avon-by-the-Sea, N.J.
Edward T. Strauss, 44, Edison, N.J.
Steven R. Strauss, 51, Fresh Meadows, N.Y.
Steven F. Strobert, 33, Ridgewood, N.J.
Walwyn W. Stuart, 28, Valley Stream, N.Y.
Benjamin Suarez, 36, New York, N.Y.
David S. Suarez, 24, Princeton, N.J.
Ramon Suarez, 45, New York, N.Y.
Yoichi Sugiyama, 34, Fort Lee, N.J.
William Christopher Sugra, 30, New York, N.Y.
Daniel Suhr, 37, Nesconset, N.Y.
David Marc Sullins, 30, New York, N.Y.
Lt. Christopher P. Sullivan, 38, Massapequa, N.Y.
Patrick Sullivan, 32, New York, N.Y.
Thomas Sullivan, 38, Kearney, N.J.
Hilario Soriano (Larry) Sumaya, 42, New York, N.Y.
James Joseph Suozzo, 47, Hauppauge, N.Y.
Colleen Supinski, 27, New York, N.Y.
Robert Sutcliffe, 39, Huntington, N.Y.
Selina Sutter, 63, New York, N.Y.
Claudia Suzette Sutton, 34, New York, N.Y.
John F. Swaine, 36, Larchmont, N.Y.
Kristine M. Swearson, 34, New York, N.Y.
Brian Edward Sweeney, 29, Merrick, N.Y.
Kenneth J. Swensen, 40, Chatham, N.J.
Thomas F. Swift, 30, Jersey City, N.J.
Derek O. Sword, 29, New York, N.Y.
Kevin T. Szocik, 27, Garden City, N.Y.
Gina Sztejnberg, 52, Ridgewood, N.J.
Norbert P. Szurkowski, 31, New York, N.Y.
Harry Taback, 56, New York, N.Y.
Joann Tabeek, 41, New York, N.Y.
Norma C. Taddei, 64, New York, N.Y.
Michael Taddonio, 39, Huntington, N.Y.
Keiji Takahashi, 42, Tenafly, N.J.
Keiichiro Takahashi, 53, Port Washington, N.Y.
Phyllis Gail Talbot, 53, New York, N.Y.
Robert R. Talhami, 40, Shrewsbury, N.J.
Sean Patrick Tallon, 26, Yonkers, N.Y.
Paul Talty, 40, Wantagh, N.Y.
Maurita Tam, 22, New York, N.Y.
Rachel Tamares, 30, New York, N.Y.
Hector Tamayo, 51, New York, N.Y.
Michael Andrew Tamuccio, 37, Pelham Manor, N.Y.
Kenichiro Tanaka, 52, Rye Brook, N.Y.
Rhondelle Cherie Tankard, 31, Devonshire, Bermuda
Michael Anthony Tanner, 44, Secaucus, N.J.
Dennis Gerard Taormina, 36, Montville, N.J.
Kenneth Joseph Tarantino, 39, Bayonne, N.J.
Allan Tarasiewicz, 45, New York, N.Y.
Ronald Tartaro, 39, Bridgewater, N.J.
Darryl Taylor, 52, New York, N.Y.
Donnie Brooks Taylor, 40, New York, N.Y.
Lorisa Ceylon Taylor, 31, New York, N.Y.
Michael M. Taylor, 42, New York, N.Y.
Paul A. Tegtmeier, 41, Hyde Park, N.Y.
Yeshavant Moreshwar Tembe, 59, Piscataway, N.J.
Anthony Tempesta, 38, Elizabeth, N.J.
Dorothy Temple, 52, New York, N.Y.
Stanley L. Temple, 77, New York, N.Y.
David Tengelin, 25, New York, N.Y.
Brian J. Terrenzi, 29, Hicksville, N.Y.
Lisa Marie Terry, 42, Rochester, Mich.
Goumatie T. Thackurdeen, 35, New York, N.Y.
Harshad Sham Thatte, 30, Norcross, Ga.
Thomas F. Theurkauf, 44, Stamford, Conn.
Lesley Anne Thomas, 40, Hoboken, N.J.
Brian T. Thompson, 49, Dix Hills, N.Y.
Clive Thompson, 43, Summit, N.J.
Glenn Thompson, 44, New York, N.Y.
Perry Anthony Thompson, 36, Mount Laurel, N.J.
Vanavah Alexi Thompson, 26, New York, N.Y.
Capt. William Harry Thompson, 51, New York, N.Y.
Nigel Bruce Thompson, 33, New York, N.Y.
Eric Raymond Thorpe, 35, New York, N.Y.
Nichola A. Thorpe, 22, New York, N.Y.
Sal Tieri, 40, Shrewsbury, N.J.
John Patrick Tierney, 27, New York, N.Y.
Mary Ellen Tiesi, 38, Jersey City, N.J.
William R. Tieste, 54, Basking Ridge, N.J.
Kenneth F. Tietjen, 31, Matawan, N.J.
Stephen Edward Tighe, 41, Rockville Centre, N.Y.
Scott C. Timmes, 28, Ridgewood, N.Y.
Michael E. Tinley, 56, Dallas, Texas
Jennifer M. Tino, 29, Livingston, N.J.
Robert Frank Tipaldi, 25, New York, N.Y.
John J. Tipping, 33, Port Jefferson, N.Y.
David Tirado, 26, New York, N.Y.
Hector Luis Tirado, 30, New York, N.Y.
Michelle Titolo, 34, Copiague, N.Y.
John J. Tobin, 47, Kenilworth, N.J.
Richard J. Todisco, 61, Wyckoff, N.J.
Vladimir Tomasevic, 36, Etobicoke, Ontario, Canada
Stephen K. Tompsett, 39, Garden City, N.Y.
Thomas Tong, 31, New York, N.Y.
Azucena de la Torre, 50, New York, N.Y.
Doris Torres, 32, New York, N.Y.
Luis Eduardo Torres, 31, New York, N.Y.
Amy E. Toyen, 24, Newton, Mass.
Christopher M. Traina, 25, Bricktown, N.J.
Daniel Patrick Trant, 40, Northport, N.Y.
Abdoul Karim Traore, 41, New York, N.Y.
Glenn J. Travers, 53, Tenafly, N.J.
Walter (Wally) P. Travers, 44, Upper Saddle River, N.J.
Felicia Traylor-Bass, 38, New York, N.Y.
Lisa L. Trerotola, 38, Hazlet, N.J.
Karamo Trerra, 40, New York, N.Y.
Michael Trinidad, 33, New York, N.Y.
Francis Joseph Trombino, 68, Clifton, N.J.
Gregory J. Trost, 26, New York, N.Y.
William Tselepis, 33, New Providence, N.J.
Zhanetta Tsoy, 32, Jersey City, N.J.
Michael Patrick Tucker, 40, Rumson, N.J.
Lance Richard Tumulty, 32, Bridgewater, N.J.
Ching Ping Tung, 44, New York, N.Y.
Simon James Turner, 39, London, England
Donald Joseph Tuzio, 51, Goshen, N.Y.
Robert T. Twomey, 48, New York, N.Y.
Jennifer Tzemis, 26, New York, N.Y.
John G. Ueltzhoeffer, 36, Roselle Park, N.J.
Tyler V. Ugolyn, 23, New York, N.Y.
Michael A. Uliano, 42, Aberdeen, N.J.
Jonathan J. Uman, 33, Westport, Conn.
Anil Shivhari Umarkar, 34, Hackensack, N.J.
Allen V. Upton, 44, New York, N.Y.
Diane Maria Urban, 50, Malverne, N.Y.
John Damien Vaccacio, 30, New York, N.Y.
Bradley H. Vadas, 37, Westport, Conn.
William Valcarcel, 54, New York, N.Y.
Mayra Valdes-Rodriguez, 39, New York, N.Y.
Felix Antonio Vale, 29, New York, N.Y.
Ivan Vale, 27, New York, N.Y.
Santos Valentin, 39, New York, N.Y.
Benito Valentin, 33, New York, N.Y.
Manuel Del Valle, 32, New York, N.Y.
Carlton Francis Valvo, 38, New York, N.Y.
Edward Raymond Vanacore, 29, Jersey City, N.J.
Jon C. Vandevander, 44, Ridgewood, N.J.
Frederick T. Varacchi, 35, Greenwich, Conn.
Gopalakrishnan Varadhan, 32, New York, N.Y.
David Vargas, 46, New York, N.Y.
Scott C. Vasel, 32, Park Ridge, N.J.
Santos Vasquez, 55, New York, N.Y.
Azael Ismael Vasquez, 21, New York, N.Y.
Arcangel Vazquez, 47, New York, N.Y.
Peter Anthony Vega, 36, New York, N.Y.
Sankara S. Velamuri, 63, Avenel, N.J.
Jorge Velazquez, 47, Passaic, N.J.
Lawrence Veling, 44, New York, N.Y.
Anthony M. Ventura, 41, Middletown, N.J.
David Vera, 41, New York, N.Y.
Loretta A, Vero, 51, Nanuet, N.Y.
Christopher Vialonga, 30, Demarest, N.J.
Matthew Gilbert Vianna, 23, Manhasset, N.Y.
Robert A. Vicario, 40, Weehawken, N.J.
Celeste Torres Victoria, 41, New York, N.Y.
Joanna Vidal, 26, Yonkers, N.Y.
John T. Vigiano, 36, West Islip, N.Y.
Joseph Vincent Vigiano, 34, Medford, N.Y.
Frank J. Vignola, 44, Merrick, N.Y.
Joseph B. Vilardo, 44, Stanhope, N.J.
Sergio Villanueva, 33, New York, N.Y.
Chantal Vincelli, 38, New York, N.Y.
Melissa Vincent, 28, Hoboken, N.J.
Francine A. Virgilio, 48, New York, N.Y.
Lawrence Virgilio, 38
Joseph G. Visciano, 22, New York, N.Y.
Joshua S. Vitale, 28, Great Neck, N.Y.
Maria Percoco Vola, 37, New York, N.Y.
Lynette D. Vosges, 48, New York, N.Y.
Garo H. Voskerijian, 43, Valley Stream, N.Y.
Alfred Vukosa, 37, New York, N.Y.
Gregory Wachtler, 25, Ramsey, N.J.
Gabriela Waisman, 33, New York, N.Y.
Wendy Alice Rosario Wakeford, 40, Freehold, N.J.
Courtney Wainsworth Walcott, 37, New York, N.Y.
Victor Wald, 49, New York, N.Y.
Benjamin Walker, 41, Suffern, N.Y.
Glen J. Wall, 38, Rumson, N.J.
Mitchel Scott Wallace, 34, Mineola, N.Y.
Lt. Robert F. Wallace, 43, New York, N.Y.
Roy Michael Wallace, 42, Wyckoff, N.J.
Peter G. Wallace, 66, Lincoln Park, N.J.
Jean Marie Wallendorf, 23, New York, N.Y.
Matthew Blake Wallens, 31, New York, N.Y.
John Wallice, 43, Huntington, N.Y.
Barbara P. Walsh, 59, New York, N.Y.
James Walsh, 37, Scotch Plains, N.J.
Jeffrey Patrick Walz, 37, Tuckahoe, N.Y.
Ching H. Wang, 59, New York, N.Y.
Weibin Wang, 41, Orangeburg, N.Y.
Lt. Michael Warchola, 51, Middle Village, N.Y.
Stephen Gordon Ward, 33, Gorham, Maine
James A. Waring, 49, New York, N.Y.
Brian G. Warner, 32, Morganville, N.J.
Derrick Washington, 33, Calverton, N.Y.
Charles Waters, 44, New York, N.Y.
James Thomas (Muddy) Waters, 39, New York, N.Y.
Capt. Patrick J. Waters, 44, New York, N.Y.
Kenneth Watson, 39, Smithtown, N.Y.
Michael H. Waye, 38, Morganville, N.J.
Walter E. Weaver, 30, Centereach, N.Y.
Todd C. Weaver, 30, New York, N.Y.
Nathaniel Webb, 56, Jersey City, N.J.
Dinah Webster, 50, Port Washington, N.Y.
Joanne Flora Weil, 39, New York, N.Y.
Michael Weinberg, 34, New York, N.Y.
Steven Weinberg, 41, New City, N.Y.
Scott Jeffrey Weingard, 29, New York, N.Y.
Steven Weinstein, 50, New York, N.Y.
Simon Weiser, 65, New York, N.Y.
David T. Weiss, 50, New York, N.Y.
David M. Weiss, 41, Maybrook, N.Y.
Vincent Michael Wells, 22, Redbridge, England
Timothy Matthew Welty, 34, Yonkers, N.Y.
Christian Hans Rudolf Wemmers, 43, San Francisco, Calif.
Ssu-Hui (Vanessa) Wen, 23, New York, N.Y.
Oleh D. Wengerchuk, 56, Centerport, N.Y.
Peter M. West, 54, Pottersville, N.J.
Whitfield West, 41, New York, N.Y.
Meredith Lynn Whalen, 23, Hoboken, N.J.
Eugene Whelan, 31, Rockaway Beach, N.Y.
John S. White, 48, New York, N.Y.
Edward James White, 30, New York, N.Y.
James Patrick White, 34, Hoboken, N.J.
Kenneth W. White, 50, New York, N.Y.
Leonard Anthony White, 57, New York, N.Y.
Malissa White, 37, New York, N.Y.
Wayne White, 38, New York, N.Y.
Adam S. White, 26, New York, N.Y.
Leanne Marie Whiteside, 31, New York, N.Y.
Mark Whitford, 31, Salisbury Mills, N.Y.
Michael T. Wholey, 34, Westwood, N.J.
Mary Lenz Wieman, 43, Rockville Centre, N.Y.
Jeffrey David Wiener, 33, New York, N.Y.
William J. Wik, 44, Crestwood, N.Y.
Alison Marie Wildman, 30, New York, N.Y.
Lt. Glenn Wilkinson, 46, Bayport, N.Y.
John C. Willett, 29, Jersey City, N.J.
Brian Patrick Williams, 29, New York, N.Y.
Crossley Williams, 28, Uniondale, N.Y.
David Williams, 34, New York, N.Y.
Deborah Lynn Williams, 35, Hoboken, N.J.
Kevin Michael Williams, 24, New York, N.Y.
Louis Calvin Williams, 53, Mandeville, La.
Louie Anthony Williams, 44, New York, N.Y.
Lt. John Williamson, 46, Warwick, N.Y.
Donna Wilson, 48, Williston Park, N.Y.
William E. Wilson, 58, New York, N.Y.
Cynthia Wilson, 52, New York, N.Y.
David H. Winton, 29, New York, N.Y.
Glenn J. Winuk, 40, New York, N.Y.
Thomas Francis Wise, 43, New York, N.Y.
Alan L. Wisniewski, 47, Howell, N.J.
Frank T. Wisniewski, 54, Basking Ridge, N.J.
David Wiswall, 54, North Massapequa, N.Y.
Sigrid Charlotte Wiswe, 41, New York, N.Y.
Michael R. Wittenstein, 34, Hoboken, N.J.
Christopher W. Wodenshek, 35, Ridgewood, N.J.
Martin P. Wohlforth, 47, Greenwich, Conn.
Katherine S. Wolf, 40, New York, N.Y.
Jenny Seu Kueng Low Wong, 25, New York, N.Y.
Jennifer Y. Wong, 26, New York, N.Y.
Siu Cheung Wong, 34, Jersey City, N.J.
Yin Ping (Steven) Wong, 34, New York, N.Y.
Yuk Ping Wong, 47, New York, N.Y.
Brent James Woodall, 31, Oradell, N.J.
James J. Woods, 26, New York, N.Y.
Patrick Woods, 36, New York, N.Y.
Richard Herron Woodwell, 44, Ho-Ho-Kus, N.J.
Capt. David Terence Wooley, 54, Nanuet, N.Y.
John Bentley Works, 36, Darien, Conn.
Martin Michael Wortley, 29, Park Ridge, N.J.
Rodney James Wotton, 36, Middletown, N.J.
William Wren, 61, Lynbrook, N.Y.
John Wright, 33, Rockville Centre, N.Y.
Neil R. Wright, 30, Asbury, N.J.
Sandra Wright, 57, Langhorne, Pa.
Jupiter Yambem, 41, Beacon, N.Y.
Suresh Yanamadala, 33, Plainsboro, N.J.
Matthew David Yarnell, 26, Jersey City, N.J.
Myrna Yaskulka, 59, New York, N.Y.
Shakila Yasmin, 26, New York, N.Y.
Olabisi L. Yee, 38, New York, N.Y.
Edward P. York, 45, Wilton, Conn.
Kevin Patrick York, 41, Princeton, N.J.
Raymond York, 45, Valley Stream, N.Y.
Suzanne Youmans, 60, New York, N.Y.
Jacqueline (Jakki) Young, 37, New York, N.Y.
Barrington L. Young, 35, New York, N.Y.
Elkin Yuen, 32, New York, N.Y.
Joseph Zaccoli, 39, Valley Stream, N.Y.
Adel Agayby Zakhary, 50, North Arlington, N.J.
Arkady Zaltsman, 45, New York, N.Y.
Edwin J. Zambrana, 24, New York, N.Y.
Robert Alan Zampieri, 30, Saddle River, N.J.
Mark Zangrilli, 36, Pompton Plains, N.J.
Ira Zaslow, 55, North Woodmere, N.Y.
Kenneth Albert Zelman, 37, Succasunna, N.J.
Abraham J. Zelmanowitz, 55, New York, N.Y.
Martin Morales Zempoaltecatl, 22, New York, N.Y.
Zhe (Zack) Zeng, 28, New York, N.Y.
Marc Scott Zeplin, 33, Harrison, N.Y.
Jie Yao Justin Zhao, 27, New York, N.Y.
Ivelin Ziminski, 40, Tarrytown, N.Y.
Michael Joseph Zinzi, 37, Newfoundland, N.J.
Charles A. Zion, 54, Greenwich, Conn.
Julie Lynne Zipper, 44, Paramus, N.J.
Salvatore J. Zisa, 45, Hawthorne, N.J.
Prokopios Paul Zois, 46, Lynbrook, N.Y.
Joseph J. Zuccala, 54, Croton-on-Hudson, N.Y.
Andrew Steven Zucker, 27, New York, N.Y.
Igor Zukelman, 29, New York, N.Y.
Barbara Arestegui, 38, Marstons Mills, Massachusetts
Jeffrey Collman, 41, Novato, Calif.
Sara Low, 28, Batesville, Arkansas
Karen A. Martin, 40, Danvers, Mass.
First Officer Thomas McGuinness, 42, Portsmouth, New Hampshire
Kathleen Nicosia, 54, Winthrop, Mass.
John Ogonowski, 52, Dracut, Massachusetts
Betty Ong, 45, Andover, Massachusetts
Jean Roger, 24, Longmeadow, Massachusetts
Dianne Snyder, 42, Westport, Massachusetts
Madeline Sweeney, 35, Acton, Massachusetts
Anna Williams Allison, 48, Stoneham, Massachusetts
David Angell, 54, Pasadena, California
Lynn Angell, 45, Pasadena, California
Seima Aoyama, 48, Culver City, Calif.
Myra Aronson, 52, Charlestown, Massachusetts
Christine Barbuto, 32, Brookline, Massachusetts
Carolyn Beug, 48, Los Angeles, California
Kelly Ann Booms, 24, Brookline, Mass.
Carol Bouchard, 43, Warwick, Rhode Island
Neilie Anne Heffernan Casey, 32, Wellesley, Massachusetts
Jeffrey Coombs, 42, Abington, Massachusetts
Tara Creamer, 30, Worcester, Massachusetts
Thelma Cuccinello, 71, Wilmot, New Hampshire
Patrick Currivan, 52, Winchester, Mass.
Brian Dale, 43, Warren, New Jersey
David DiMeglio, 22, Wakefield, Mass.
Donald Americo DiTullio, 49, Peabody, Mass.
Albert Dominguez, 66, Sydney, Australia
Paige Farley-Hackel, 46, Newton, Mass.
Alex Filipov, 70, Concord, Massachusetts
Carol Flyzik, 40, Plaistow, N.H.
Paul Friedman, 45, Belmont, Massachusetts
Karleton D.B. Fyfe, 31, Brookline, Massachusetts
Peter Gay, 54, Tewksbury, Massachusetts
Linda George, 27, Westboro, Massachusetts
Edmund Glazer, 41, Los Angeles, California
Lisa Fenn Gordenstein, 41, Needham, Massachusetts
Andrew Peter Charles Curry Green, 34, Santa Monica, Calif.
Peter Hashem, 40, Tewksbury, Massachusetts
Robert Hayes, 37, from Amesbury, Massachusetts
Edward (Ted) R. Hennessy, 35, Belmont, Mass.
John A. Hofer, 45, Los Angeles, Calif.
Cora Hidalgo Holland, 52, of Sudbury, Massachusetts
Nicholas Humber, 60, of Newton, Massachusetts,
Waleed Iskandar, 34, London, England
John Charles Jenkins, 45, Cambridge, Mass.
Charles Edward Jones, 48, Bedford, Mass.
Robin Kaplan, 33, Westboro, Massachusetts
Barbara Keating, 72, Palm Springs, Calif.
David P. Kovalcin, 42, Hudson, New Hampshire
Judy Larocque, 50, Framingham, Mass.
Natalie Janis Lasden, 46, Peabody, Mass.
Daniel John Lee, 34, Van Nuys, Calif.
Daniel C. Lewin, 31, Charlestown, Mass.
Susan A. MacKay, 44, Westford, Massachusetts
Christopher D. Mello, 25, Boston, Mass.
Jeff Mladenik, 43, Hinsdale, Illinois
Antonio Jesus Montoya Valdes, 46, East Boston, Mass.
Carlos Alberto Montoya, 36, Bellmont, Mass.
Laura Lee Morabito, 34, Framingham, Massachusetts
Mildred Rose Naiman, 81, Andover, Mass.
Laurie Ann Neira, 48, Los Angeles, Calif.
Renee Newell, 37, of Cranston, Rhode Island
Jacqueline J. Norton, 61, Lubec, Maine
Robert Grant Norton, 85, Lubec, Maine
Jane M. Orth, 49, Haverhill, Mass.
Thomas Pecorelli, 31, of Los Angeles, California
Berinthia Berenson Perkins, 53, Los Angeles, Calif.
Sonia Morales Puopolo, 58, of Dover, Massachusetts
David E. Retik, 33, Needham, Mass.
Philip M. Rosenzweig, 47, Acton, Mass.
Richard Ross, 58, Newton, Massachusetts
Jessica Sachs, 22, Billerica, Massachusetts
Rahma Salie, 28, Boston, Mass.
Heather Lee Smith, 30, Boston, Mass.
Douglas J. Stone, 54, Dover, N.H
Xavier Suarez, 41, Chino Hills, Calif.
Michael Theodoridis, 32, Boston, Mass.
James Trentini, 65, Everett, Massachusetts
Mary Trentini, 67, Everett, Massachusetts
Pendyala Vamsikrishna, 30, Los Angeles, Calif.
Mary Wahlstrom, 78, Kaysville, Utah
Kenneth Waldie, 46, Methuen, Massachusetts
John Wenckus, 46, Torrance, Calif.
Candace Lee Williams, 20, Danbury, Conn.
Christopher Zarba, 47, Hopkinton, Massachusetts
Charles Burlingame, 51, Herndon, Va.
David M. Charlebois, 39, Washington, D.C
Michele Heidenberger, 57, Chevy Chase, Md.
Jennifer Lewis, 38, Culpeper, Virginia
Kenneth Lewis, 49, Culpeper, Virginia
Renee A. May, 39, Baltimore, Md
Paul Ambrose, 32, Washington, D.C.
Yeneneh Betru, 35, Burbank, Calif
Mary Jane (MJ) Booth, 64, Falls Church, Va.
Bernard Curtis Brown, 11, Washington, D.C.
Suzanne Calley, 42, San Martin, Calif.
William Caswell, 54, Silver Spring, Md.
Sarah Clark, 65, Columbia, Md.
Zandra Cooper, Annandale, Va.
Asia Cottom, 11, Washington, D.C.
James Debeuneure, 58, Upper Marlboro, Md.
Rodney Dickens, 11, Washington, D.C.
Eddie Dillard, Alexandria, Va.
Charles Droz, 52, Springfield, Va.
Barbara G. Edwards, 58, Las Vegas, Nev.
Charles S. Falkenberg, 45, University Park, Md.
Zoe Falkenberg, 8, University Park, Md.
Dana Falkenberg, 3, of University Park, Md.
James Joe Ferguson, 39, Washington, D.C.
Wilson "Bud" Flagg, 63, Millwood, Va.
Darlene Flagg, 63, Millwood, Va.
Richard Gabriel, 54, Great Falls, Va.
Ian J. Gray, 55, Columbia, Md.
Stanley Hall, 68, Rancho Palos Verdes, Calif.
Bryan Jack, 48, Alexandria, Va.
Steven D. Jacoby, 43, Alexandria, Va.
Ann Judge, 49, Great Falls, Va.
Chandler Keller, 29, El Segundo, Calif.
Yvonne Kennedy, 62, Sydney, New South Wales, Australia
Norma Khan, 45, Reston, Va.
Karen A. Kincaid, 40, Washington, D.C.
Dong Lee, 48, Leesburg, Va.
Dora Menchaca, 45, of Santa Monica, Calif.
Christopher Newton, 38, Anaheim, Calif.
Barbara Olson, 45, Great Falls, Va
Ruben Ornedo, 39, Los Angeles, Calif.
Robert Penniger, 63, of Poway, Calif.
Robert R. Ploger, 59, Annandale, Va.
Lisa J. Raines, 42, Great Falls, Va.
Todd Reuben, 40, Potomac, Maryland
John Sammartino, 37, Annandale, Va.
Diane Simmons, Great Falls, Va.
George Simmons, Great Falls, Va.
Mari-Rae Sopper, 35, Santa Barbara, Calif.
Robert Speisman, 47, Irvington, N.Y
Norma Lang Steuerle, 54, Alexandria, Va.
Hilda E. Taylor, 62, Forestville, Md
Leonard Taylor, 44, Reston, Va.
Sandra Teague, 31, Fairfax, Va.
Leslie A. Whittington, 45, University Park, Maryland.
John D. Yamnicky, 71, Waldorf, Md.
Vicki Yancey, 43, Springfield, Va.
Shuyin Yang, 61, Beijing, China
Yuguag Zheng, 65, Beijing, China
Robert Fangman, 33, Claymont, Del.
Michael R. Horrocks, 38, Glen Mills, Pa.
Amy N. Jarret, 28, North Smithfield, R.I.
Amy R. King, 29, Stafford Springs, Conn.
Kathryn L. LaBorie, 44, Providence, R.I.
Alfred Gilles Padre Joseph Marchand, 44, Alamogordo, N.M.
Capt. Victor Saracini, 51, Lower Makefield Township, Pa.
Michael C. Tarrou, 38, Stafford Springs, Conn.
Alicia Nicole Titus, 28, San Francisco, Calif.
Alona Avraham, 30, Asdod, Israel.
Garnet Edward (Ace) Bailey, 54, Lynnfield, Mass.
Mark Bavis, 31, West Newton, Mass.
Graham Andrew Berkeley, 37, Boston, Mass.
Touri Bolourchi, 69, Beverly Hills, Calif.
Klaus Bothe, 31, Linkenheim, Baden-Wurttemberg, Germany
Daniel R. Brandhorst, 41, Los Angeles, Calif
David Reed Gamboa Brandhorst, 3, Los Angeles, Calif.
John Brett Cahill, 56, Wellesley, Mass.
Christoffer Carstanjen, 33, Turner Falls, Mass.
John (Jay) J. Corcoran, 43, Norwell, Mass
Dorothy Alma DeAraujo, 80, Long Beach, Calif.
Ana Gloria Pocasangre de Barrera, 49, San Salvador, El Salvador
Lisa Frost, 22, Rancho Santa Margarita, Calif.
Ronald Gamboa, 33, Los Angeles, Calif.
Lynn Catherine Goodchild, 25, Attleboro, Mass.
Peter Morgan Goodrich, 33, Sudbury, Mass.
Douglas A. Gowell, 52, Methuen, Mass.
The Rev. Francis E. Grogan, 76, of Easton, Mass.
Carl Max Hammond, 37, Derry, N.H.
Peter Hanson, 32, Groton, Mass.
Sue Kim Hanson, 35, Groton, Mass.
Christine Lee Hanson, 2, Groton, Mass.
Gerald F. Hardacre, 61, Carlsbad, Calif.
Eric Samadikan Hartono, 20, Boston, Mass.
James E. Hayden, 47, Westford, Mass.
Herbert W. Homer, 48, Milford, Mass.
Robert Adrien Jalbert, 61, Swampscott, Mass.
Ralph Francis Kershaw, 52, Manchester-by-the-Sea, Mass.
Heinrich Kimmig, 43, Willstaett, Germany
Brian Kinney, 29, Lowell, Mass.
Robert George LeBlanc, 70, Lee, N.H.
Maclovio Lopez, Jr., 41, Norwalk, Calif.
Marianne MacFarlane, MacFarlane, 34, Revere, Mass.
Louis Neil Mariani, 59, Derry, N.H.
Juliana Valentine McCourt, 4, New London, Conn.
Ruth Magdaline McCourt, 45, New London, Conn.
Wolfgang Peter Menzel, 59, Wilhelmshaven, Germany
Shawn M. Nassaney, 25, Pawtucket, R.I.
Marie Pappalardo, 53, Paramount, Calif.
Patrick Quigley, 40, of Wellesley, Mass.
Frederick Charles Rimmele, 32, Marblehead, Mass.
James M. Roux, 43, Portland, Maine
Jesus Sanchez, 45, Hudson, Mass.
Mary Kathleen Shearer, 61, Dover, N.H.
Robert Michael Shearer, 63, Dover, N.H.
Jane Louise Simpkin, 36, Wayland, Mass.
Brian D. Sweeney, 38, Barnstable, Mass.
Timothy Ward, 38, San Diego, Calif.
William M. Weems, 46, Marblehead, Mass.
Lorraine G. Bay, 58, East Windsor, N.J.
Sandra W. Bradshaw, 38, Greensboro, N.C.
Jason Dahl, 43, Denver, Colo.
Wanda Anita Green, 49, Linden, N.J.
Leroy Homer, 36, Marlton, N.J.
CeeCee Lyles, 33, Fort Myers, Fla.
Deborah Welsh, 49, New York, N.Y.
Christian Adams, 37, Biebelsheim, Germany
Todd Beamer, 32, Cranbury, N.J.
Alan Beaven, 48, Oakland, CA
Mark K. Bingham, 31, San Francisco, Calif.
Deora Frances Bodley, 20, San Diego, Calif.
Marion Britton, 53, New York, N.Y.
Thomas E. Burnett Jr., 38, San Ramon, Calif.
William Cashman, 57, North Bergen, N.J.
Georgine Rose Corrigan, 56, Honolulu, Hawaii
Patricia Cushing, 69, Bayonne, N.J.
Joseph Deluca, 52, Ledgewood, N.J.
Patrick Joseph Driscoll, 70, Manalapan, N.J.
Edward P. Felt, 41, Matawan, N.J.
Jane C. Folger, 73, Bayonne, N.J.
Colleen Laura Fraser, 51, Elizabeth, N.J.
Andrew Garcia, 62, Portola Valley, Calif.
Jeremy Glick, 31, Hewlett, N.J.
Lauren Grandcolas, 38, San Rafael, Calif.
Donald F. Greene, 52, Greenwich, Conn.
Linda Gronlund, 46, Warwick, N.Y.
Richard Guadagno, 38, of Eureka, Calif.
Toshiya Kuge, 20, Nishimidoriguoska, Japan
Hilda Marcin, 79, Budd Lake, N.J.
Nicole Miller, 21, San Jose, Calif.
Louis J. Nacke, 42, New Hope, Pa.
Donald Arthur Peterson, 66, Spring Lake, N.J.
Jean Hoadley Peterson, 55, Spring Lake, N.J.
Waleska Martinez Rivera, 37, Jersey City, N.J.
Mark Rothenberg, 52, Scotch Plains, N.J.
Christine Snyder, 32, Kailua, Hawaii
John Talignani, 72, New York, N.Y.
Honor Elizabeth Wainio, 27, Watchung, N.J.
Olga Kristin

Native American Prayer

"I give you this one thought to keep - I am with you still - I do not sleep.
I am a thousand winds that blow, I am the diamond glints on snow, I am the sunlight on ripened grain, I am the gentle autumn rain.
When you awaken in the morning's hush, I am the swift, uplifting rush of quiet birds in circled flight.
I am the soft stars that shine at night.
Do not
think of me as gone - I am with you still - in each new dawn."

2011-09-01T20:30:00.003-04:00

hurricane update...
we decided to play safe, rather than sorry and headed for higher ground... our friends in the next town graciously put us up for the night...spent most of the night in their garage with our five cats... tornado blew through less than a hundred feet from where we were hunkered down, twisted trees until they shattered... our town was completely closed due to flooding... when I finally got back home on Sunday afternoon, Stately Sad Old Goth Manor was still standing, only a few huge branches down, but we took on some water in the kitchen, seven inches worth, contending with the cleanup and drying out now... had a huge cherry tree blow down Sunday afternoon while I was standing outside during the wind gusts... our neighbor closer to the stream took it hard, looks to have had at least several feet of water in his house... still have to clean up the property, looks like a world war one battlefield... we're safe and sound, house is sound, although damp and stinky... we were going to remodel the kitchen next year, anyway...
more details over the weekend.
gregor

2011-08-27T10:29:00.004-04:00

half-assed live blogging of the hurricane known as Irene...

Who the hell ever thought of giving hurricanes human names, anyway?
was up at 3:30 this morning, thanks to Patch the Cat... hung around until it started to get light, then moved the bug-out boxes into the truck along with some other stuff, just in case I decide to seek higher ground, although waiting until then might be too late... time will tell.
cut down a small maple tree that had grown up around the power line from the pole to the house, figured i'd save JCP&L some work...
made a nice place for the two gray outside cats to hang out during the blow in one of the spare bedrooms.
just need to take in a few chairs and the last patio table, then nail the shed doors shut, then i'm in for the duration. mrs. SOG is heading out to a friend's house later today, so i'll be toughing it out here alone, with five cats. should be an interesting night.
i will be updating this post throughout the day and night, until i either have to take the computer upstairs or the power goes out.
wish me luck...

14:20
It's been raining lightly, no wind yet, but, unlike this morning when it was dead still, there is a slight stirring of leaves and small branches... it is coming,,,

16:34
Had a really huge rain band come through with moderate winds. The property is so saturated that it's all just sitting there, huge puddles already.
I'm going to get ready to wheel out of here on a moment's notice, I think. I'm going to move the computer and the rest of the electronics upstairs, get the back of the truck set up as a kitteh condo for the five cats and then all I'll have to do is round them up, get the stuff out of the freezer, grab my go-bag and head for the hills... Where I'm going, I have no idea, as long as it's high ground. I may just go up the to corner of my road, I can pull my truck into the alley between the Post Office and the local deli and ride it out. Cripes....
Will try to update via laptop until it's time to bug...
later.

2011-08-26T11:41:00.002-04:00

Big wind coming...

and it ain't from Winnetka...
Hurricane Irene is heading right for Stately Sad Old Goth Manor. Wish us luck.

2011-08-10T07:30:00.004-04:00

Here's a better picture of the two gray kitties...

and here's a picture of the ragmop that I'm keeping, she's a doll, but I think she's a little slow...

2011-08-09T21:16:00.004-04:00

Kittens need a home...
The Great Spirit saw fit to give me charge over three little kittens, that were apparently born in my little barn and abandoned by their mother when, I suppose, she felt they were weaned. I found them when I was cleaning out the shed back in June, I've taken care of them since. One of them, an orange and gray patchwork took a fancy to me and I've decided that I'm going to keep her. The other two, who are in the pictures below, are super cute, super friendly kittehs, that love to curl up in my lap and sleep. I can't keep all three, which is breaking my heart, but that's just the way it is right now. Their names are Some and None - Some has a patch of white on her chest, None doesn't have any white, so they're Some and None. They answer to their names. They're healthy, active, typical kittens that are slowly growing into cats. I can't bring in the one I'm keeping and leave those two outside, so I really need to find them a home. If anyone local to me is interested, just let me know.
Here's some pictures I took of them when they were still pretty little and living in the barn. Now they live in a cat shelter I made just outside our back door, but that's not going to work for much longer. They really are sweethearts.

This is Some. She's a real lap cat, loves to sleep all curled up in your arms.

This is None. She's not such a cuddle type, but will curl up in my lap and she loves to have her ears and chin rubbed.

If you're interested and local, drop me a line. I really have to find them a loving home and they absolutely need to stay together, they are best buds.

2011-08-06T20:37:00.009-04:00

Stave 3...

In which, under the influence of enough caffeine to kill most mere mortals, I reminisce about a party, a song and sex in a phone booth in the rain outside a drug store at a few minutes before the witching hour... or not...

So, where the fuck was I? I'm not sure, long has it been since I pondered and wandered here. I'll start with today. I went to a funeral this morning. It was sad for so many, on so many levels. I try to come away from such things with a better outlook on my own life, but not today... just couldn't do it. I took the long way home afterward, listened to some special music while driving, stopped and did some grocery shopping, but all for naught. Maybe be better tomorrow... tonight, I'll dwell on other things.

When I was seventeen, I went to a party at a girl's house, her parents were away for a while, so, of course, she threw a party. Her parents were rich. Very rich. Their kitchen was bigger than the house I grew up in. They had a Florida room, as it was called, that was actually a conservatory, where palms and ferns and tropical flowers grew all year round. They had a bathroom with a sunken tub the size of a small swimming pool. They had a daughter with one of those rich girls haircuts, all straight and longer one side than the other, with a hint of baby fat, a little more than a hint of freckles and a set of braces that probably cost more than my father made in a year, who flitted around the house full of moochers and drunks and freeloaders, being the perfect hostess until it got out of hand and she had to throw everyone out around one in the morning. I stayed to help clean up. We wiped up spilled drinks, puke, cigarette ashes and other stuff I can't imagine what from the hardwood floors. We washed dishes and glasses and bagged up all the liquor bottles and beer cans and stashed them behind the bushes in her back yard until she could get rid of them. She made us grilled cheese sandwiches and coffee as the sun was coming up and after we ate, she took me by the hand and walked me to the front door and bade me good-bye and thanks for helping me clean up and why don't you call me sometime we can go out and do something, you're really different from most guys I know but I don't have your phone number, let me get a pen I'll be right back and she was and wrote her number on my arm and she gave me a long kiss and smiled as she closed the door and I walked home and thought about her for a long time. So I called her and we went out and went out again and many times after that until she decided to throw me over for some bank robber type with a hot rod and she became a drunk and I became something else and someone else.

I'm sitting on the floor of a living room, my back against an expense leather sofa, the room is lit by candles, there's a half finished Martini in a sweaty Martini glass sitting on a mirror topped coffee table in front of me, there are stairs on the other side of the room that lead up to her bed room and she's sitting on them, her head in her hands, crying, not because she's upset but because she's pissed as all get out and she's telling me it's over and it's all my fault, but it's not my fault and I'm trying to focus through the water that's glazing my eyes and I really want to finish my Martini and get the hell out of there, but then she'll win and maybe she'll just get up and go upstairs and there will be door slamming and I'll finish my drink and leave, but not until the album that's playing is finished, the last cut on the first side is my favorite, it's called Starship Trooper and then I'll blow out the candles, leave the empty Martini glass on the table so she'll have to clean it up in the morning, but she just sits there and I just sit there and the album is over and I eat the last of the gin marinated olives, get up and walk through the house to the back door and go out into the cool summer night and walk around the front and get on my motorcycle and kick it to life and light a cigarette, put on my helmet and slowly roll off into the night.
That's it.

On Thanksgiving night, 1971, I had sex in a phone booth in front of a drug store in the pouring rain just before midnight with a girl with black hair, green eyes and a crescent moon shaped scar about the size of a dime on her left cheek, we were both madding drunk, she more than me and when it was over we went across the street and sat in a bus shelter and smoked cigarettes and she played her harmonica and I asked her why she wore green nail polish on one hand and orange on the other and she laughed at me and told me I thought too fucking much about shit that doesn't matter and can I walk her home because if she didn't get home soon her sister would probably be out driving around looking for her and did we finish that joint we had earlier if not she could really use some right now and that was the first time she ever fucked a guy in a phone booth and damn, it's a cold, wet night. really.

2011-06-21T08:44:00.003-04:00

Feill Sheathain...

a blessed summer solstice... to one and all.
Gregor

2011-06-12T11:24:00.022-04:00

i've been busy...

life has been... full, lately. many things going on, lots of things to think about, lots of things to do... here's one of them, my latest woodworking project - a Man in the Moon cradle for my grand daughter, Fable...

(click the photos to enlarge them...)

This project started after I saw a picture of a similar cradle that was supposedly created the a baby Ernest Hemingway. I didn't want to make an exact copy, so I adapted my own design, including the graphic of the face which is from an 1899 edition of The Old Farmer's Almanac. I started out creating a full size rough drawing in Photoshop, then ran a full size plotter print to use to rough out a template.

Here's the print, it's laid out on my dining room table, which is 48" in diameter, so you can see it's almost that big. 46" in diameter, to be exact...
Here's a template I then created, using a piece of white painted Masonite hardboard...

I traced the template onto 1/2" MDF and, using a trammel jig I made for my trusty old Bosch jig saw, I cut out two perfect circles...

Then I cut the face detail and inside curves to make the crescent man in the moon face.

I then laid out the locations of the internal elements, such as the bed platform, the headboard and footboard, the bottom piece and three braces that span the bottom to help support and strengthen the structure...

I made the start and stop point for the dadoes using a 3/4" Forstner bit in a portable drill press, the using some jigs, I routed the slots for the bed, headboard and footboard.

In order to create the 1/4" groove for the base plate that runs from the bottom of the headboard to the bottom of the footboard, I made a jig for my trusty old Craftsman router that ran along the outer bottom edge. Using a upward spiral 1/4" groove bit, I routed it out with ease...

The jig is made to the same curve as the bottom edge, with a handle to help keep the router level and make it easier to handle. It's attached with double sided tape, with some additional tape on the bottom plate of the router to make it level and slide easier.
I also routed a 1/4" groove on the bottom edges of the headboard and footboard on the router table using the same bit, to accept the ends of the bottom plate.

They and the bed platform are made from some 3/4" oak ply I had laying around from a bookcase project... waste not, want not.

Here's all the pieces ready for assembly...

I did a dry fit to try to figure out the balance point, which I had to guess at when I laid everything out, since there are no plans for this thing. I came pretty close, I had to add some counter weight to the foot end of the bed platform before I put the base plate on, it sits pretty level, but could actually be better balanced. The next one will be perfect.
The base plate is 3/16" hardboard, it's actually two pieces to ease sliding it into place, the joint is hidden by the bottom most stretcher dowel.
Here's how the groove for the base plate and the grooves in the bottom of the head and footboards line up to take the ends of the base plate...

I primed all the pieces before assembly and caulked all the joints and primed those when dry, then did the finish painting.

I then painted it with Glidden latex in a butter yellow and did the face detailing using a light gray acrylic craft paint. The headboard and footboards are painted a flat dark blue, with metallic gold painted stars forming the constellations Orion, who will watch over her, always...

and the Big Dipper and the North Star, so she can always find her way...

And here's the completed cradle...

It will need to be sealed with a water based poly after a few more weeks once the paint is 100% dried, but it's quite useable, as you can see...

Next project is a Tree of Life bed...

2011-05-01T18:11:00.007-04:00

Grab bag...
Been pretty busy over the past week, haven't had too much time to post more stuff for sale, but here's a fun one...

12 Wings Cigarettes Military Aircraft tobacco cards.

These were included in packs of Wings Cigarettes in the early 1940's (Ten cents a pack!!!), I have twelve out of the full set of fifty produced. Each card has a description on the back.

They grade as good condition and list anywhere from $4.00 to $8.00 each retail. I'm asking $40.00 for the lot and I'll throw in this nifty Korean War era US Army 2nd Infantry Division shoulder patch! It's not a reproduction and is in clean, unused condition.

I'm going to be listing these separately on Craig's list later this week at $40 for the cards and $15 for the patch, so if you want them, drop me a line.

More later in the week, including a huge collection of Hess, Ertl, Lindsay and other plastic and diecast trucks and planes!

2011-04-23T14:32:00.014-04:00

Yard sale...
Well, here we go. This is bordering on the ridiculous, there is so much stuffed into Stately Sad Old Goth Manor that it's going to take weeks to sort it out and get it on Ebay or Craigslist or where ever.
I'm going to be putting stuff up here for a week or so before I list it, so if you see something that you fancy, drop me a line, we can work something out. I hate to get rid of some of this stuff, but it's the only way we can finance our gardening and chicken adventure, so it goes. Besides, like they say, you can't take it with you.
You can contact me by clicking on the flying bat in the sidebar. Or via Facebook.

1. A Kelsey Mercury Excelsior printing press and all the stuff that goes with it:

You can see all the other stuff here:

I'm asking $900.00 as a starting bid on Ebay, the press alone is worth that. It all weighs a ton, so shipping is out of the question. Either pick it up, or I'll deliver it in New Jersey for a flat fee based upon mileage.

2. A late forties vintage Royal Aristocrat Portable typewriter:

Check out all the photos and info here:

$75.00 and it's yours. I'll even toss in UPS shipping.

3. Ok, this one is killing me, but I have to do it...
My cherished 2003 Kintail Drumrun Scottish small pipes.

This is one of the sweetest, mellow sets I've ever played. All synthetic materials, Polypenco drones, blowpipe, chanter and stocks. Synthetic Gortex bag. Synthetic reeds. Black velvet bag cover and a nice travel case.
If you want a new set, you're going to shell out close to $800.00 USD at today's exchange rate. I'm giving these away for $550.00.
More here:

You're going to have to pay the shipping and insurance on these, I'm not going there. This is breaking my heart, you know...

4. A 1960's vintage Central Railroad of New Jersey Trainman hat and tunic buttons.

These were given to me when I was thirteen years old by a relative who was retiring from the railroad. $65.00, I'll kick for the shipping. See more here:

There aren't many in this condition.

5. A Brody Mk1 helmet, British, World War II.

This came into my possession in the late sixties, it's been stored and protected for most of that time. All original, see more here:

$50.00, shipping included. Great for playing army with the kids...

Well, that's it for now. Like I said, everything here will be listed on-line after a week or so, then more will take it's place. The Collyer brothers have nothing on me...

2011-03-25T19:43:00.002-04:00

oh, no, no, no...
I haven't gone four-up or bagged blogging. I've just been on an extended break, partially brought on by the overbearing weight of the winter just passed, a good bout of disillusionment and general malaise. Too long did I tarry in the dark realms of hate and anger brought about by delving much too deeply into the current state of the Union, over which I really have no immediate control, so I decided it was time to shuck myself of that mantle of woe and get back into living my life and, basically, fuck 'em all until 2012.
I've grown a little long of tooth to keep putting aside those things that I need to do to keep myself happy and sane and, considering that I'm staring down the throat of mortality, I intend to keep myself occupied with the things and the people that make me happy and whole and the rest of the lot can go pound salt...
We're within pissing distance of being absolved of all debt with the exception of the balance of our mortgage. Well before this time next year, that will be the case, which will make a thorough re-evaluation of our lifestyle and needs something that has some reality to it. Over the next year, we will be making plans to use our property to raise a goodly amount of the food we consume, at least the vegetable, fruit and egg part of it. Over the next few months I will be making a catalog of everything that I've accumulated over the past thirty years or so and putting it all up for bid. By a really rough and realistic estimate, I can probably finance the construction of my long awaited wood working shop, chicken coop and an expanded raised bed gardening venture. Along with a limited number of berry bushes and moderate yield fruit trees, we can preserve enough to feed ourselves a good part of the year with minimal work and worry.
I'm also eagerly awaiting the arrival of our first grandchild, something that has a very concentrating effect on one's mind.
So, that's what's been going on. Good stuff. Sane stuff. Real stuff.
Gotta go play with the cat for a while. Have a pleasant eve, my fellow wanderers.
Fare thee well.

Gregor

2011-02-15T07:55:00.003-05:00

Just pull the covers back over your eyes...

there's nothing to see here, folks, just keep moving...

I wonder how many other of the like are being covered up by the current administration and their lap dog media?

Where's Bush when you need him..?

2011-02-13T18:51:00.022-05:00

It's Emeril LaGothy..!
It's about time things got back to normal around here, whatever the hell that is... Here's what's for dinner tonight -

Boeuf Bourguignon Soup

This pretty much follows the recipe that was published in the December 2010 edition of Martha Stewart Living, with a few slight alterations. Why, yes, I do read Martha Stewart Living... bite me...

1.5 lb stew beef (the original recipe calls for bone-in short ribs, but six dollars a pound was a bit much to bear).

Coarse salt and freshly ground pepper
2 teaspoons unbleached flour (again, the original called for cornstarch. I hate cornstarch).
3 tbs extra-virgin olive oil
8 oz. baby white button mushrooms, quartered (I left the really tiny ones whole).

3 carrots; 2 finely chopped and 1 cut into 3/4 inch cubes.

3 shallots, minced.

3 celery stalks, roughly chopped (I added one extra to the recipe, I love celery).

2 strips of bacon, thinly sliced crosswise.

1 tbs tomato paste.
2 springs thyme.
2 bay leaves
1 sprig fresh rosemary (I added this to the recipe).
1 cup or so of dry red wine.
8 cups no salt beef broth.
1 cup water (original called for two, didn't think it would all fit in the pot).

Before starting, be sure to arm yourself with the essentials for cooking...

1. Season the meat with salt, pepper and coat with flour. Heat oil, brown the meat on all sides, then remove to a plate.

2. Add mushrooms to pot, cook until brown, then transfer to a bowl with cubed carrots.

3. Add shallots, celery, bacon and chopped carrots to pot, cook until they carmelize, then stir in tomato paste.

4. Add meat and juices from the plate to pot, along with thyme, bay leaves and rosemary. Turn heat up to high, add the wine and cook until slightly reduced, scraping the good stuff from the bottom of the pot.

5. Add stock and water, bring to a boil and simmer, loosely covered until the meat is tender.

6. Add the mushrooms and cubed carrots and simmer again, loosely covered until the carrots are tender.

While that's simmering away, lets prep some Horseradish Chive Bread:

1. Mash 1 stick of room temperature unsalted butter in a bowl with about 2 tbs chopped chives, 2 tbs prepared horseradish and some coarse salt.

2. Slice some French bread almost all the way through and fill the cuts with the butter mixture.

3. Wrap in aluminum foil and hold in the fridge until you're ready to eat.

I'm going to let the soup sit in the fridge until tomorrow night (mostly because there's no one here but me and cats tonight until late, and it will probably taste better after is sits a day, anyway).

To serve:
Reheat soup. While that's going on, heat the oven to 375F for the bread and boil up some wide egg noodles. Throw the bread into the oven for about 15 minutes or so. Put some egg noodles in a bowl, ladle in some soup and rip off a hunk of that bread.
Should go nice with a little Merlot.

Bon Appetit!

2011-02-01T01:40:00.001-05:00

a brief interlude...
Karen needs to go back into the memory box for a while... Life 101 is rearing it's head... much to think about and even more to do...
A major life change is on the horizon...

2011-01-13T20:08:00.003-05:00

Monday...
I left Karen's place late Sunday night after we spent a long time sitting in bed, drinking coffee and talking. I walked across the island to the room I shared with Oliver, who, when I walked in, was banging a girl of questionable linage and vintage on the living room couch. I excused my intrusion and went to bed. I woke up early on Monday, drank a huge mug of coffee standing in the shower, the hoofed it to the bus and went into San Diego to work. The day didn't start well, I was making ready a job on the old two color Heidelburg press and a sheet took off and went into the rollers. Not a great way to start the day. I was peeling it out when Oliver's father came into the pressroom and yelled over the din,
"Hey, Spence, your girlfriend is on the phone."
Fuck. Now what. She never, ever called me during the week. Maybe she had second thoughts and decided to pack it in and go back to New Mexico. That would cap the day, for sure. I peeled off my rubber gloves and walked into the office and picked up the receiver from the desk and said hello...
"Hey, sorry to bother you at work, but I have some news."
"Yeah, everything OK?"
"Yeah. I was talking to Jake and he said we could use his brother's cabin up in the Sur if we wanted to. His brother is in the crazy house again, this time it looks like it's for good and we can stay there as long as we want. Can you get some time off? Jake said I can take off as long as I want."
"I guess. I'll find out and let you know later. It sounds pretty cool."
"OK, can you come over tonight, we can figure it all out?"
"Yeah, I'll see you some time or another."
"You know, it would be easier if you moved in with me, can we talk about that, too?"
Oh, shit, oh, shit, oh, shit...
"Uh, yeah, we can. I have to go, I'll see you tonight, OK?"
"OK."
"Bye."
"Bye."
I hung up the phone and turned around to find Commander West, as we all called Oliver's dad, was standing in the office doorway.
"Everything OK?"
"Yeah, she just had something important to tell me. I think she wants us to take a week and go up to the Sur and spend some time alone together. Any chance you can get along without me for a while? I'd really like to take a break."
"Yeah, sure. I guess Oliver can keep his dick in his pants and make it to work every day for a week if he has to. Take what ever time you need."
"Thanks, Commander."
"No problem. When do you need to take off?"
"I guess I'll know tomorrow. I gotta go clean up that press before it's a real mess. I think the grain of that stock is wrong, it's curling like a bitch."
"Yeah, it's a job lot. Do what you can with it"

So I struggled through the day and after work I went back to my room, got cleaned up and borrowed Oliver's bike and headed into the sunset. It was about seven o'clock by then, still light and still hot as hell.
I arrived at the cafe about a quarter of eight, I was getting pretty good at traveling by bike around town. I leaned the bike against the bottom of the back stairs and was starting up when Jake popped out of the cafe's back door.
"Hey, man, what's up? I thought you'd be half way back to the least coast by now after Saturday morning. Damn, that girl of yours has a temper plus one. She was giving her sister an earful and I had to separate them before it turned into a brawl. Everything OK?"
I fished out a smoke and lit it and sat on the bottom step.
"Yeah. Family squabble. Her sister is a fucking psycho. I gotta tell you, man, I thought it was going to be all over after that mess. I'll never figure Karen out."
"Dude, let me tell you, if and when it comes down to anything with Karen and you, you're going to win out. I've known her for three years and she's gone through a few guys, but I think you've hit some nerve or something. She's pretty flighty sometimes, but she's been pretty much grounded since you've been coming around. Where that's going is between you and her, but don't fuck it up, man. Whatever happens, happens, but let her be the one to run with it, OK? Maybe you got a magic dick or maybe you just let her be her, I don't know and I don't care, but she's a changed girl these days. Hey, did she tell you about my crazy ass brother's place up in the Sur? I told her you can use it for as long as you want, I think he's in the wacky-shack for the long haul this time. As long as you don't mind staying in a crazy man's place, I mean."
"Yeah, that's why I'm here, she wants to talk about it. Appreciate the offer, Jake."
"No problem. Don't know what it's like up there, I haven't been there since Winter, but it's a great place. You two can drink wine and smoke dope and run around the woods bare ass naked all day and then spend all night in a bed of pine needles, fucking yourselves silly under the stars. There's no neighbors and it's only a twenty minute hike to the ocean. It'll do your souls good. I gotta run. Let me know what's going on, I'll give you the key to the place, although I don't know if the locks have been changed or even it there are any locks. He's a pretty fucked up guy. Thinks the secret police are after him or some such shit. Later, man."
"Yeah, later. And thanks. We'll let you know."
He went back into the back door of the cafe. I really, really liked Jake. He knew just how much to poke his nose into things and he had a really good grasp on life, especially affairs of the heart. I wondered if he had someone like Karen in his life. If he didn't, he deserved to. I flicked the end of my cigarette into the parking lot, got up and walked up the stairs. I knocked on the back door. Why? I don't know, I never knocked. As much as I thought things were OK, I realized that things were actually changing. I thought I better heed Jake's advice; I better not fuck it up and I better let Karen take the lead. Ok with me.

"

2011-01-12T19:47:00.005-05:00

"the afternoon after the night before..."

Sunday morning came and went. I sat on the couch, drinking coffee, half-heartedly reading the paper and wondering what would unfold this day. Karen was sleeping in, I guess working and the encounter with big sister had worn her out. Good thing, at least for me, I wasn't looking forward to what I envisioned was to come. I thought about putting on the radio and listening to some music from the Mexican station from Tijuana, XETT-AM, raping the airways with fifty thousand watts, Mariachi, brass and something new they were pushing, Tex-Mex, but didn't want to chance waking her up. I got up from the couch and started into the kitchen to get another cup of coffee, when I almost collided with her walking out of the bedroom. I stopped in my tracks and searched for something to say... "Good afternoon", was all I could muster. She just stood there, looking at me, her hair all a-tangle, her eyes puffy and red. God damn, in spite of it, she was so beautiful. She took a step forward, wrapped her arms around me and put her head on my chest. I folded my arms around her and leaned my face down into her hair. She had the Breakfast Special thing going on, Jake was a great cook and her hair was as good as a menu as the greasy papers that served that purpose on his tables. She was making me hungry.
"Are we ok?", she half whispered to me.
"Yeah, sweetheart, we're fine. How 'bout you?"
"Yeah, I'm ok. How's Del?"
Damn.
"Well, apparently, she's left and gone home. She left a note. She asked me to say goodbye to you for her. I'm sorry..."
I could feel her stiffen and her arms around my waist pulled harder. She jerked a little sob and shook her head in my chest.
"Fuck."
"It's ok. You wanna talk?"
"No. I don't want to talk right now. I want you. Come back to bed. We can do it and then we can talk. Ok?"
"Ok... I guess. You sure?"
"Yeah."

So, we did it. And then, we talked.

"Where's this note she left? Can I read it?"
"Nope. She asked me to get rid of it, so I burned it."
"God, I fucking hate her sometimes. So tell me, did she really tell you things about me last night, or did you two just end up fucking on the beach?"
I let go of her and sat up in bed. It was dark. Sunday night. I swung my legs over the side of the bed and sat up.
"No, I didn't fuck her on the beach, why would you think I'd ever do that? You're really on the edge of pissing me off. All she did was tell me things I didn't want know and still don't want to know. God, I can't believe you asked me that."
"Sorry, but I know her better than you do, it wouldn't surprise me."
"Well, sorry to disappoint you, but nothing happened. I wouldn't do that to you, especially with your fucking sister. God, what do you take me for?"
"I didn't think you would, really, but I had to ask. She's done it before."
"Yeah, well that's between you and her. What's between you and me needs to be what we talk about."
"Come back her and lay down. Please?"
I thought about that for a minute, then got back in bed, lay behind her back and pulled her to me. Now or never, dude.
"I'd never do anything like that, especially to you. I know you told me never to tell you this, but I love you..."
Fuck. Summon Gabriel. It's the end of times...
She rolled over to face me. She brushed my hair out of my face and put her hand behind my head and looked me with those dark brown eyes of hers. I expected the worse.
"Yeah, I did. But I never said you couldn't love me. You need to listen better. You know I love you, don't you? I mean, God, you know that, right?"
I didn't want to tell her I found out through Della, so I sort of lied. I mean, sometimes, a little lie is a good thing, right?
"Yeah, I had a suspicion..."
"You're so perceptive... Look, what happened with Del never happened. Despite what she told you about me, she's really the psycho in the family. I might have been the family nympho, but I'm over that, but she's not really right. I'll leave it at that, if it's ok with you. So, you still love me, even though you know I fucked my way through Pie Town and beyond?"
"Yeah, I'm fine. That was then. One of these days, someone will tell you about my sordid past."
"Heh, I can't wait. I want some coffee."
"Yeah, me too. I'll make it."
"No, I will. You know, we need to get away from here for a while. Why don't you think of someplace we can go while I'm slaving away in the kitchen? Someplace different, someplace quiet and dark, where we can be all alone for a while."
"Del left you her car. I forgot to tell you."
"She left it to I can pack it up and go back to Pie Town, she was railing about that to me yesterday. Maybe one of these days. But not right now. Now I want coffee and I want more of you, if you're up to it..."
"I'll give it my best..."
"Yes, you will."

2010-12-18T19:38:00.012-05:00

"in the land of the blind..."

Fin.

No, on second thought, I didn't want any coffee. I wanted a shower, a smoke, a few shots of tequila and the pleasant little death of sleep. That's what I really needed to do, retreat from the bullshit of what happened on the beach in that place where only I could go, deep, dark sleep. I wasn't paying particular attention to where I was and found myself a block from Jake's place, where the cops had closed off the street to vehicles. The artsy-fartsy crowd was out in full force, setting up their tables and displays, and the street was crowded with people out for a day of culture. I left the sidewalk and melted into the throng, hoping I could slip past Jake's and Karen and sneak up the back stairs. I made it to about fifty feet or so from Jake's and saw Del's hot pink t-shirt. Shit, she must have gotten ahead of me when I was at the drug store, handing out joints and wishing the little hippie cashier with the braces was just a few years older... She and Karen were engaged in what was most certainly a heated conversation. Del was flapping her arms like a fledgling bird, trying to take to the air, while Karen was most definitely doing most of the talking, her right hand on her hip and her left index finger wagging about a hair's breadth from Del's face. I was always amazed, for some strange reason, with Karen's being left handed. Don't know why, right now I didn't care, I just wanted to get past this unseen and unscathed and get up to Karen's place. Maybe crashing there wasn't a good idea. Maybe I should just get my stuff and wander back to my room at Oliver's parents place and call it a day, but I really didn't think I had it in me to walk all the way across Coronado in what was promising, with no regrets, to be a scorcher of a day. Fuck. Double fuck. Actually, I thought that other than me walking right up to them and joining in the fun, they weren't likely to notice me, so I filtered by way past them, through the crowd and walked a full block past the cafe, cut over, went around the block behind Jake's and sneaked through the property that adjoined the back of his, and climbed over the fence that bordered his back parking lot. I practically had to pull myself up the stairs, dug around in the sand in my pockets, found the key and let myself in. It was still pretty early in the morning, but the place was stupidly hot. I pushed the living room windows open all the way and put the box fan that was in the hallway in one of them, turned it on exhaust and went into the kitchen and opened the windows facing the ocean. If the place didn't cool down, at least the ocean air would be a little refreshing. I went back into the living room, stepping over Del's stuff and grabbed the half empty bottle of Gavilan tequila from the bookcase, took it back into the kitchen and went out on the back porch. I sat down on the porch floor, propped myself up against the outside kitchen wall, opened my new pack of smokes and lit one. Man, did it taste good. I leaned my head back, exhaled and opened the bottle. I lifted it, took a long swig and enjoyed the burn and the feeling of my mucus membranes revolting against the sour taste. I chased it with another drag, then sucked down some more. The sun was just high enough to be hidden by the porch roof, but the combined heat of it and the tequila was making me sweat even more. I closed my eyes and breathed deep, trying to force evil from my soul, trying to purge myself of all the anger and confusion and just as I was starting to relax behind the dark of my eyelids, I heard the sound of Della's cowboy boots coming up the stairs. I let out a long, slow breath, and opened my eyes just as she mounted the steps enough to come eye to eye with me as I sat there. She stopped her ascent and just looked at me. Her eyes were red and swollen and wet and tears had streaked her face with shiny trails. She opened her mouth like she was going to say something, but nothing came out. She looked like a hot fish gasping it's last. I wanted to laugh at her and I wanted to throw the bottle at her and I wanted to get up and maybe unload on her like Karen obviously had, but I remembered what Jake has told me yesterday afternoon,
"Don't be a fucker."
I took another deep breath, slid sideways a bit, held the bottle out to her with my left hand and patted the floor with my right, bidding her have a seat. She looked down a bit, the came the rest of the way up the stairs and leaned her back against the wall next to me, then slid down to sitting. I handed the bottle to her, lit a smoke and handed that to her, pulled my knees up so I could rest my arms on them and continued smoking and staring out into the day. She took a few long draughts, a drag on her smoke and handed the bottle back to me. I guess the tequila was having the desired effect on me, I wasn't really so pissed anymore and I looked over at her. She looked like hell. I guessed I didn't look much better. Well, I supposed I should be the bigger of the two of us, so I took another swig and a drag and said,
"I guess we're not going to be best friends, huh?"
Nothing. I tried again.
"Cat got your tongue this time?"
She turned and look at me with that same look her sister conjured up once in a while, that drilling right though you look, when those dark brown eyes turned almost black and the Mexican blood in her rose to the surface. I half smiled, handed the bottle back and tried again.
"Ok... you let me know when you feel like talking. Have some more of this rot gut, it helps. I saw you and Karen were having a little chat out front, I guess it didn't go well, huh? Well, that's between you and her, I suppose, but we have some unfinished business of our own. Maybe later. Do you need the bathroom? I'm really wanting to take a shower. I have sand everywhere and I'm sure I smell like something the gulls might want to pick over on the beach. Save me some of that crap, ok?"
Her look softened a bit and she looked like she was going to start crying again, which was my cue to get up and head inside. There are a few thing I'm not good at handling, and crying girls are up near the top of that list. I stood up, held out my pack of smokes and my matches and she took them from me in silence. I went inside, found my bag and got out some clean clothes, took them into the bathroom, undressed and stood in the shower for what seemed like an hour, the hot water and steam melting away the last of my bad mood. I finally had enough, got as dry as I could and pulled on a clean pair of jeans and t-shirt and walked out into the hallway, letting out a cloud of steam that just hung for a moment in the heat, the started to drift toward the living room, being pulled by the fan. I had rolled up my old clothes into a ball with the intention of taking them out on the back porch, shaking the sand out of them and hanging over the railing to air out and when I walked into the kitchen, Del was sitting there, her head down on the table, sound asleep. I stood there and looked at her for a long time. Personalities aside, they really were carbon copies of each other. I leaned against the kitchen door jamb, watching her and I wondered what it was like, growing up with a living, breathing mirror always there. It must have been strange, almost like never being able to get away from yourself. I promised to give that some more thought, right after I got some sleep. I was beginning to feel hollow and metallic and that can only be cured by a long, long sleep. I finally broke my stare and went into the bedroom, dropped the dirty clothes on the floor, turned on the window fan, pulled down the shades, got undressed and crawled into Karen's bed, pulling the top sheet over me and one of the pillows over my head. I remember thinking about Karen and what she was going to say about all this, but I was so tired, I didn't really care right then. I closed my eyes and fell away almost immediately.

I dreamed.

I'm sitting on a blanket spread out on the deck of a small sailboat, sun and sea all around, sails furled, rising and falling slowly on the swells, I look up and there's a trio of gulls floating overhead, facing the breeze, hanging there, just hanging there, occasionally one or the other momentarily blocking out the sun, the sun that reflects in and reflects on the points of the little swells, I'm far enough out from the breakers so the water is just almost calm, I can see the land off to starboard and off to port it's just water and sky and I'm staring at a spread out collection of postcards on the blanket in front of me, old black and white postcards with photos of places I know and places I don't know and places I'd like to know and, like the magician's volunteer called up from the audience, I reach out and take one at random, bring it up to my face and see a poorly shot photograph of an old brick building, with cars of an uncertain vintage parked at the curb in front of it and struck into the sky in letterpress impressions is the title of the postcard, "An Old Brick Building with Cars", broken and black type, Goudy Oldstyle, worn and used and I turn the card over and it's addressed to me, in care of an address I do not know, with a penny stamp with a gray ink cancellation that says "Bryce County Post Office", I don't know where Bryce County is and I read the message and it's hand written in little girls hand and it says, "I made it, I'm here with Grandmother and I'm the first girl in our family that they've ever seen with red hair! and I miss you and I will see you soon, love Lauren (bloodworm! xoxoxo)", "I miss you too, bloodworm", I say to the postcard and I drop it over the side and it lands in the water and floats in and out of the sun sparkles and I reach out and pick up another postcard, "show it to the audience, but don't let me see it", says the magician and I hold it up for the gulls and god and the sky to see and I bring it up to look at it and it's a pencil sketch of of a family standing in front of a small, twisted tree and it's Karen as a little girl and her father the New Mexico State Forest Ranger and her mother the homemaker and they're all squinty smiling into the sun and standing off in the background almost hidden by the dull mountains in the distance is Della, just seven minutes older and she's holding a small suitcase with two hands, it's hanging down in front of her and she's looking off the her left and it's like she's not even there and the pencil sketch postcard turns into a faded color photograph, the kind that has the white border with the rounded pinked edges and little girl Karen and her father the New Mexico State Forest Ranger and her mother the homemaker are all talking to each other at the same time and laughing and the waves of heat from the sun baked sand are wavering up in front of them, making them look like bad reception on an old television and I look past them and Della's placed the suitcase on the ground and has taken a sweater out of it and is pulling it on over her head and she looks cold and shivering and and the sweater doesn't look like it's seen very many good days and it's full of holes and it's red and yellow and gray and blue plaid and it looks funny against her white shorts and brown from the desert sun arms and legs and she looks up at me and just stares at me and I feel like I've done something wrong and I throw the postcard turned picture overboard and stand up on the deck of the sailboat and almost fall over, I grab the boom and steady myself and close my eyes to steady myself and then I'm sitting in the passenger seat of an old car parked on the side of the road by the ocean and I'm looking out at the water, watching myself standing on the deck of the boat, and the boat and me and the waves are all bobbing up and down and I turn away and look at the driver and it's an old black man, in a stained white shirt and stained striped trousers and a stained old pork pie hat, pushed far back on his head and he's really sweating and he holding the last of a fat cigar out the driver side window and he's holding an old, worn and dogeared bible in his right hand and he's reading verses aloud in low soft voice that sounds like a bullfrog, and at the end of each verse he looks over at me, his eyes full and wet and his eyelids rimmed in the red of too much drink and not enough sleep and he brings in the cigar, takes a drag, blows the smoke out the side of his mouth out the window and laughs at me, then turns back to the book and reads again and again and again, then he closes the bible, drops his cigar into the street and puts the bible on the dashboard, turns sideways in the seat, his big stomach barely fits the space between the seat and the steering wheel and he reaches over the back of the front seat, grabs a smelly old blanket, throws it over me and wraps it around my shoulders and my head and reaches across me and opens my door and says "it's time to go", and pushes me out onto the sidewalk and pulls the door shut and then he rolls up both front windows and picks up the bible from the dashboard and puts it on the seat next to him and turns back to me and mouths through the glass, "it's time to go", and he starts the car and pulls away, and I'm sitting there and I'm cold and scared and I fall over and lay flat out on my back, squeeze my eyes shut and pull the blanket tighter around me and suddenly it's night and I'm hot and I smell fried food and cigarette smoke and baby powder and suddenly I'm ok and I can feel someone very near me and I open my eyes and it's still dark and I want to shake everything away from me and then I'm awake...

I think...

The room is dark except for the streetlight that steals in through the sides of the pulled shade, I'm in bed and there's someone laying half on top of me and it's Karen and she's sound asleep, her left leg thrown across my legs, her left arm across my chest, her hand on my shoulder and I'm smelling Jake's cooking in her hair and smoke in her hair and the baby powder she doused herself with to slide between the sheets. I suddenly have this ridiculous urge to bolt out of bed, but I just lay there and stare up at the ceiling and listen to her long shallow breathing and try to make some sense of what I was dreaming, I'm sure it's nothing good. Why I dreamed about Lauren I can't even imagine, I thought I'd pushed that part of my life down deep enough to keep it away for a while, I thought I'd have to work on that a bit more. I really didn't get the part with Karen and Della and their parents and I really didn't know if I wanted to, but it's something to ponder, maybe tomorrow. Or later today or whenever, I wasn't ever sure, I realized, what day it was or what time it was, other than dark time. It must be either Saturday night or early Sunday morning, I guessed. I must have slept the day away into the night. The all night on the beach thing and the tequila really knocked me for a long one. I really needed to pee. Now what? I didn't want to wake up Karen, she was probably dead beat from working all day waiting on the art crowd. I gently picked up her arm and started to slide out from under her when she stirred and looked at me and said,
"Where are you going? Don't leave..."
"I'm not leaving, I have to pee. I'll be right back."
But she was already falling back to sleep and I eased out of bed and stood up and patted around the floor for my pants and crept out of the bedroom in the hall and into the bathroom and stood there in the dark till I got my bearings and peed by sound and washed my hands and threw some water on my face and went back out into the dark hallway. I tiptoed past the living room, I was sure Della was crashed out on the couch there and into the kitchen. There was enough light coming in from the spot by the back door of the cafe downstairs to see around and my cigarettes were laying on the kitchen table. I picked up the pack, went out on the back porch and sat at the top of the stairs. I looked across the island to the city, it was still going pretty good, it must still be Saturday night. I stuck my finger into the pack to pull out a smoke and felt a rolled up piece of paper. I pulled it out and unrolled it. It was a long cash register receipt and looked like Karen's writing, as best as I could see by the little light the night afforded, but I couldn't tell. I walked down the stairs to where there was some more light and read.

"Buster,
I'm sorry. All
I wanted to do was
talk her into coming
home. I don't know
why, I think it was
because I was
worried about what
she had gotten
herself into with
you, and I think
it was because I'm
maybe a little
jealous and maybe
I need to mind
my own business,
I don't know. She's
really, really
dangerous to herself
sometimes and she's
done some bad things
and maybe she's over
that and maybe not.
Maybe you know the
answer to that
better than I do.
I didn't come out
here to fuck things
up, but I hope I
didn't and I was
right, she's really
in love with you
and if you're
really in love with
her you need to tell
her that and I know
she told you to never
tell her that and
she meant that and
I know why and you
don't, but you need
to tell her anyway,
if that's what you
need to do. This
isn't making much
sense, is it?
You talk in your
sleep, just like she
does, do you know
that? I went in to
wake you up and tell you
this in person, but you
were sound asleep and
you were talking in
your sleep and it
sounded like you were
singing and I just sat
there for a long time
looking at you and
listening to you
until she came home and
we talked and drank
and I think things
are ok with us for now
and she went to bed
and I went downstairs
and asked her boss
to drive me to the bus
station in town and
you can tell her I
said goodbye in the
morning and I hope
everything is ok with
you two in spite of
what I did. I left
you some tequila.
Please don't show
her this note.
It's time to go.
Della.
Oh, I'm leaving
my car, just in case
she needs it one
of these days.
D."

Fuck.

I took out a smoke, lit it and held the match to the bottom of Della's little scroll and let it burn and I dropped it in the parking lot and let it turn to ash, then walked back up the stairs and sat on the porch and finished my cigarette. It was just starting to turn dark blue in the East, morning was coming and what better way to start the day than finishing a bottle of tequila, smoking some more cigarettes, watching the beginning of another scorching day happen and ponder the last forty eight hours.
I went inside after a while, put on a shirt and my boots, went back out and walked down the street to the drug store to buy the Sunday LA Times. Whenever Karen finally woke up, she'd want to do her usual Sunday thing, sitting naked on the couch, drinking coffee and doing the crossword puzzle and I'd do my usual Sunday thing, sitting on the couch next to her, drinking coffee and watching her do the crossword puzzle. Maybe. After I tell her that Della had left, who knows what might happen. Maybe nothing. Maybe it's been like this between them all along and maybe she'll just shrug it off and maybe, at least from her point of view, things will be the same. I guess we'll see.

2010-12-03T19:28:00.008-05:00

"in the land of the blind..."
Part, the third.

"Well..?'

I couldn't keep looking up at her. I turned my head and looked up the beach at the remnants of the bonfire that was so enticing before, now it was just a smokey pile in the chilly mist that was fighting a last hurrah against the coming of the day. It was still pretty dark, but the essence of day was coming quick upon the scene. I groped my shirt pocket for my cigarettes that weren't there. Damn. I really wanted a smoke. Now what? While pondering this latest dilemma, I felt her poke me in the chest. I turned back to look at her, she had lit another one and was holding it out for me.
"Here. It's the last one. It's yours..."
"Thanks."
I took a drag and blew the smoke sideways between my lips and turned my eyes back up to her. I took in a deep breath and was going to say something when she beat me to it.
"One more time. Well...?"
I switched the smoke to my left hand, pushed my glasses up with my right and started to rub my eyes. Maybe when I opened them again, she'd be gone and I could go back to Karen's and get some sleep and maybe when I woke up, this would all be some bizarre fever dream or maybe Jake had dosed by coffee with one of his sixties wonder drugs and this was some weird trip... I moved my fingers from my eyes, opened them and she was still sitting there, but now that she had finished her smoke, her arms were crossed and she looked positively menacing. She had that same damned squinty eyed, bottom lip stuck out thing happening that her sister did when she was pissed. Ok, time to be a fucker...
"Del, or Della or whatever the hell you like being called, just what the fuck do you want me to say? I know enough about Karen to know I really like her and I know as much about her as she's wanted to tell me and I don't think I want to know any more, not right now and probably not ever. And I can't fucking breathe, do you think you can get off me?"
She reached down, pinned my shoulders into the sand and bent down and whispered in my face,
"What's the matter, you afraid of something?"
"I think I'm fucking afraid of you. What the fucks with you, anyway? Are you always like this or is this a little game between you and your sister?"
"No. No game. I don't play games."
She straightened up, pushed herself up to standing, side-stepped over me and reached out hand.
"Come on, get up."
I took her offer and steadied myself with her grip as I shakily got vertical. Damned weed. I felt like I was going to pass out and hurl at the same time.
"You, ok, Buster? You look a little sick."
"Yeah, I just got up too fast. You sure this isn't some sick little game? It's sure playing like one."
"I told you, I don't play games... She does."
"Stop. Right there, just stop."
"It's the truth," she practically yelled in my face. "She's left a trail of dead since we were in seventh grade when she figured out what that thing between her legs was really good for..."
I shut my eyes and blew out a long breath. Why the hell was this happening? This was a year and a half ago in Jersey, all over again. I'm such a sucker. I really am. And stupid. I'm a stupid sucker. I shook free of her grasp on my wrist, turned and started to walk back to the street, trying not to trip and fall on my face in the sand. I felt like I was walking through knee deep snow. It was barely dawn and it was already hot and I was sweating like anything and my head was throbbing and all I wanted to do was just go find some place dark and quiet to sit down and throw up and cry and punch something or someone and, and just, I didn't know, maybe just die. Fuck me. Sideways.
"Hey!", I heard her calling behind me. I kept on walking.
"Hey!", she was closer now, sounding like she was running to catch up.
"Hey! You forgot your fucking hat."
I stopped and let her catch up with me. She walked around in front of me, holding out my hat and said,
"I'm sorry. I didn't do that to hurt you. I don't really care what you know about Karen, but you needed to know that."
"Oh, no, I didn't need to know that. You're more fucking heartless than she could ever be. You're fucking evil. Leave me alone."
I tried to step sideways beyond her and she stepped in front of me again. I leaned down to her face and said,
"You're really pissing me off right now, get the fuck out of my way."
She took a few steps back and let me start to walk past her. I didn't look at her as I passed, I just kept walking.
"You're not the one that's going to get hurt this time, Buster. You have no idea..."
I stopped and looked up into the brightening and clearing air above me.
"I have no idea? What does that mean?"
"What, are you fucking kidding me? Are you fucking kidding me? She's out of her fucking mind in fucking love with you, or tell me, haven't you noticed? Fuck, man, you're all she talked about when she was home a while ago. 'He did this' and 'He did that' and holy crap, man. Why do you think I came out here? Huh?"
"I have no idea what you're doing here, other than to fuck things up."
"Heh. I came out here to save her ass. I came out here to talk her into dumping you and to take her home. But that's not going to happen. Let me ask you, Buster, are you in love with her?"
I turned around to face her and grabbed her arms. I really just wanted to slap the shit out of her.
"You know, Della, you're sure not your fucking sister. Not by a long shot. Why don't you go back to New Mexico and leave us alone? This big sister shit isn't cutting it."
I let go, left her standing there and continued walking back to the street, which was now busy with the Saturday strollers and the early morning beach crowd making their way to the sand to spend another day in the sun. I made my way back onto the sidewalk and started walking South, back toward Jake's place with my hands jammed in my pockets and my head down, so my hat would hide my face from everyone I passed. I crossed the street and went into the drug store next to the SafeWay Mart and bought a pack of cigarettes. As I was paying for them I took the two joints that were still in my shirt pocket and handed them to the little girl behind the counter, who was wearing a gauzy, Indian style hippie shirt, obscenely low cut jeans and had a mouth full of braces and said,
"Here. Have a fucking party tonight. And don't ever fall in love."
She gave me a bewildered look, flashed a metal smile at me and said,
"Hey, thanks man. I will and I won't."
"Good for you."
I turned and heeled it out the door and continued South. I needed some coffee. I really needed some coffee...

2010-11-24T16:08:00.003-05:00

a brief interlude...
It's time for the annual Nightmare Before Thanksgiving post! You'll never look at a turkey the same way again...

push play to complete the horror of this scene... enjoy!

2010-11-20T17:51:00.010-05:00

"in the land of the blind..."
Part, the second...

I pulled one of the joints and my crumpled book of matches out of the pocket of my t-shirt. I wet it between my lips, cupped a match, lit it and took a good, long drag, and promptly started hacking, the smoke squirting out of my clenched lips and even my nose. I finally gave up, exhaled as hard and long as I could and sucked in a lung full of the warm, moist ocean air. I handed it over to Della, who I could hear was stifling a laugh.
"Cheap Mexican. Right. Are you sure it's really grass?"
She had draped her hand over mine in the pitch dark, slid her fingers down and snagged the joint and took it away. I looked over as she took a drag, the orange glow just barely lit her features against the night. She and Karen really looked so much alike, but Della's features were ever so slightly sharper, at least in this light and at this angle. No matter, they were both stupidly pretty. Not beautiful, not cute. Pretty. As the glow faded into an orange planet orbiting back in my direction in the dark, I couldn't help but wonder why she wore makeup at all. Karen never did. She didn't need it. I didn't think big sister did either. I poked around in the general direction of the glowing end of the joint, managed to snag it and brought it back to my mouth. I took a shorter, lighter pull this time and managed to hold it in. I pushed it back and realized that I was sitting on the two bottles of beer that were still in my back pocket, good thing we were sitting in the sand. I rocked to the right and pulled the first one out and when I rocked to the left, I bumped into Della, who was actually a lot closer than I thought.
"Sorry, I was getting the beers out of my pockets. You want one?"
"Hell yeah, gotta wash this crap down with something. You got a church key?"
Fuck. I should have grabbed my keys from the kitchen counter, I had one on there.
"Uh, nope. Sorry."
"No problem."
My eyes were either finally getting used to the dark, or the grass was having an effect on my pupils, but I was able to actually see something moving to my left, it was Della, getting up on her knees and pulling off her belt. She deftly pried off the cap on a bottle with her cowboy buckle, handed it over to me, popped the other one, dropped her belt in the sand and sat back down.
"Cheers", she said, "Here's to my kid sister's guy".
"And to you and your kid sister", I replied and sucked down half the bottle in one draught. Damn, that tasted good. Should have grabbed more than two. I sat the bottle in the sand inside my crossed legs, handed the joint back to her and took out my cigarettes. I shook one out of the pack, lit it and savored the first drag.
"Aren't you going to offer me one."
"Sure. Sorry, didn't know you smoked the real things. They're unfiltered, that ok?"
"Yep. We used to hock my dad's all the time. Old Golds. You think this grass is rough..."
I lit one for her and handed it over. We sat in quiet for a while, smoking and drinking and listening to the waves. A few hundred yards to the North someone had started a fire on the beach. I stared at it for a long time, watching the flames and sparks, watching it disappear then reappear as someone or someones walked back and forth in front of it. I also realized that I was pretty stoned, even after just a few pulls on that first number. I broke my trance with the fire, turned back to Della and said,
"So, we were going to talk, weren't we? I really can't think of anything to say, so why don't you go ahead?"
She drew in a deep breath and let it out, put her elbow on her knee and rested her head in her upturned hand, facing me.
"Ok. You know, I was only busting your balls back there, Buster. I've heard so much about you for the past eight or nine months that I think I know you better than Karen does. I think the longest she's ever been with a guy has been two or three months. You must be something special."
She let that hang long enough that it was a cue for me to say something, so I did.
"No, not really. If anything, I'm terribly ordinary. She, on the other hand, is something..."
"Yeah, that she is. What do you know about her? You didn't know about me, so I'm wondering just what she's deigned to tell you at all. Light another one, will you?"
"Mexican or Camel?"
"One of each, thanks. That shit really needs a chaser and I'm out of beer already."
I lit another joint, handed it over and lit another cigarette. We passed them back and forth for a few minutes, that rancid crap was damned harsh, the cigarette smoke tempered it a bit. I handed her my bottle, there was about an inch or so left in it.
"Here, you can finish this."
"Your looks belie you, Buster. The man on the street would think you were a hard partying, smoke 'em, hump 'em and run type with that hair and your clothes."
"Yeah, well the hair is a convenient security blanket, it helps me to blend in. As far as the clothes go, well, I wear what I'm comfortable in and, what's wrong with my clothes, anyway?"
"Oh, nothing... let's see... I think I remember what you're wearing; a green Army t-shirt with a Nixon/Agnew button stuck to it, a pair of jeans that could probably pass for a patchwork quilt, a bunch of knotted bandannas for a belt and a pair of work boots that are painted gold with a silver star painted on the toes of each one. And that ratty Stetson. Yeah, you blend in... I think it's the John Lennon glasses..."
I suddenly felt uncomfortable about myself and wondered what she was really thinking about me.
"The sartorial arts were never my forte."
"No shit. So, tell me what you know about Karen."
I laid back in the sand with my hands behind my head, my beat up Stetson on my stomach and looked up into the mist that seemed to be getting a bit brighter and bluer. I was wondering what time it actually was when Della picked up my hat, dropped it on her head, swung herself over me, dropping down with not much ease onto my middle, making me expel all my breath and a sound like a moaning dog. She leaned down to take my cigarettes and matches out of my shirt pocket. I tried to breath back in as I watched her light a smoke, shake out the match and drop it in the sand. She tilted her head back and blew the smoke up to join the salt mist. She put her left arm across herself, propped her right elbow on it so the cigarette was at mouth height, looked down at me and said,
"Well...?"

2010-11-12T18:57:00.010-05:00

"in the land of the blind...
the one-eyed man is better off keeping his fucking mouth shut."

Part, the first.

"So, yeah, I'm the guy that's banging your little sister."
"Hmmm... I guess I'm ok with that."
"Well, thanks. I'm really ok. Really. I'm not like that..."
"And just what is that?"
Luckily, Karen came back into the kitchen before I had to answer that one. She pulled back one of the chairs from the table, spun it around, sat down and rested her folded arms on the back and her chin on her arms.
"So," she said, "are we all getting to know each other better?"
"I'm getting the third degree", I replied.
Della looked at her sideways and said, "Only the second".
She turned her eyes back to me and smiled the smile that I'm sure was behind the mask of the executioner who really enjoyed his job too much.
"Della was asking about my character, I think this is a job interview."
They both laughed in that sister laugh, then it got awfully quiet. I think it was my turn to speak again, but I didn't know what to say.
"Della thinks my choice of men leaves a bit to be desired, but I told her you were ok."
"Yeah, I said the same thing. About me being ok, I mean. I think your choice in the area of male companions is excellent..."
That was humor there, girls.
"So, Del, do you think he's ok?"
I was beginning to think there was more in that question than the usual girl to girl banter. I sucked down the last of the tepid coffee in my mug, pushed back my chair and stood up.
"Anyone want some more coffee?", I asked with a bit of waver in my voice.
Karen shook her head no and said, "No, I have to get up really early tomorrow. There's an art festival on the beach and I told Jake I'd come down at five to help him open up to catch the coffee and breakfast crowd. I'm going to go to bed. You two can hang out and chat."
Great. I walked around the table to behind her chair as she stood up. She turned and put her arms around my waist and squeezed me hard. I rested my chin on the top of her head and squeezed back as best as I could with a coffee cup in one hand. She tilted her head back, looked up at me and drilled me with those deep, dark eyes.
"Give me a kiss good night", she half whispered, and I did. She let me go and side stepped over to big sister, wrapped her arms around her neck and said,
"I'm so happy you're here. I'm happy we're all here".
Then she leaned even closer and whispered something in her sister's ear, which was answered with a silent nod. She let go, then danced off to the bedroom, shut the door and that was that. Ok, let the awkwardness begin...
I sort of half shuffled over to the other side of the kitchen, re-lit the fire under the coffee pot and just stood there staring at the flame for a minute. Just damn. I guessed I should say something, but wasn't sure what, when I heard Della's chair being slid back and I turned around to watch her stand up. She turned around to face me, smoothed out her sun dress, folded her arms and leaned against the back of the chair.
"Here it comes", I thought.
I looked down at the floor. When I looked up, she was still there, staring at me.
She began the conversation.
"Well, Buster Brown, I guess it's just you and me".
She cocked her head a bit and looked me up and down.
"Do you smoke?", she asked.
"Yeah, I've got a pack in my bag. You want one?"
"I mean grass. Do you smoke grass?"
"Occasionally. Not a real big fan of it, but it suffices in times of no coffee..."
"I have some in my suitcase. Can you roll? Mine always turn out looking like a cat turd."
"Yeah."
She started to walk into the living room, stopped in front of me and put a finger in my chest. She looked at me with the same big, dark brown eyes and said,
"Good. We're going to talk."
She removed her finger, smiled at me, this time with a genuine sort of smile and went on her way.
"Don't be a fucker", that's what Jake said. I wasn't going to be a fucker, even if I had the capacity to be one, but, damn, I sure wasn't liking where I thought this was going. Karen was an open book. She said what was on her mind, always. Della, on the other hand, was a bit too cryptic for my liking. This was going to be an interesting night.
I turned around and turned off the stove, poured what was left of the coffee into my mug and stood there in the kitchen, seriously thinking I might just call it a night and wander back home and hang with Oliver, although, by now, if he was home, he was in the company of some lewd, loud and drunken barfly he picked up in town and coaxed into coming home with him for a night of who knows what drugs and noisy, annoying sex. He was into that whole scene. One night stands, punctuated with promises, chemicals, booze and one day, massive doses of penicillin... More power to him, I guess. And here am I, about to be drilled about the why, what and how about my relationship with someones little sister, even if only by seven minutes.
"There's going to be a story in this, one day", I thought.
Della eventually came back into the kitchen, she had changed her clothes. She was wearing a pair of ratty, patch laden jeans, cowboy boots and the pinkest, tightest t-shirt I'd ever seen. It was hard not to stare at her breasts. She was definitely the better endowed of the two. She'd removed her makeup, too and let her hair down from it's pony tail, into the same wild, black tangle of her sleeping sister. It was amazing how much alike they looked. She reached out to hand me a baggie of grass and a pack of papers.
"Sit. Roll. At least three. Maybe four, ok?"
"Geez, you planning on having a party?"
"No, it's just crappy Mexican. Ten bucks an ounce. But it does the job, after a fashion."
So, I sat at the kitchen table and rolled four nice, round solid joints, while she stood looking out the back door.
"Ok, locked and loaded", I said.
"Good. Let's go. I want to sit on the beach. I really love the water. Do you like the water?"
"Yeah. I like the water".
"I'm getting a jacket. Grab your cigarettes. And some beers. I bought some, it's in the fridge. I'll be right back."
She vanished into the living room again and came back with the ratty denim jacket that matched her jeans as I was fishing around in my bag for my smokes and some matches.
"Let's go", she said, opening the back door and heading out onto the back porch. I stopped at the fridge, fished out two bottles of beer, put one in each back pocket of my pants and followed her outside, locking and closing the door behind me.
"I hope you have a key, Buster Brown."
"Yeah, I have a key."
"I figured."
She headed down the back outside stairs. I followed. I had my smokes and our joints in the pocket of my t-shirt. I was holding two books of matches in my left hand and realized I was squeezing them hard enough to crush them.
"Calm down", I said to myself, I thought, but I actually said it out loud.
"Oh, I'm calm", she said over her shoulder.
Down into the back parking lot we went, then up the side driveway and out onto the front sidewalk.
"Where's a nice, dark, private place to go?", she asked.
"Oh, up North a few blocks, past the SafeWay market. That's no-man's land around here. Usually just the hard core stoner surfers and the sex in the sand crowd"
"Good", she answered. Nothing else.
So North we headed, side by side, in obscene silence, on the sea side of the street, plodding on the rumpled concrete sidewalk, into the circle of light of one street light, then back into the dark, then a circle of light, then dark, then light, then into that dark stretch of the ocean front, just South of the Navy beach, favored by those who wanted to be left alone, to sit in the sand, to smoke their smoke, play poke and hope in the dark, fall back and just listen to the soft little waves of the vast Pacific...
She groped in the dark for my hand, grabbed it firmly and peeled off the walkway into the sand and headed for the sound of the ocean. We scuffed through the sand for about thirty feet or so and she stopped, dropped my hand and sat down.
"Come on, have a seat", she whispered in the dark.
It was still pretty hot out, but she put her jacket on over her shoulders, pulled up her knees, wrapped her arms around her legs and commanded,
"Ok, light one of those fuckers up and let's chat."
And I did. And we did...

"

2010-11-05T19:36:00.016-04:00

"three of a perfect pair..."*

The 4:34 local bus was, for a Friday night, unusually empty. Just me, the driver and a few assorted blue collar types like myself, making our way home at the end of the work week. The driver, a middle aged black woman, almost too short to see over the wheel, was singing along at the top of her lungs with The Silhouettes "Get A Job" on the radio, which was turned up loud enough so everyone, inside and outside the bus could hear it. It was contagious... by the time we were crawling up the Eastern side of the bridge, leaving San Diego behind, our little motley crew was howling right along with her. It was just one of those odd moments that will forever live in some closet of the mind, just ready to be pulled out when you needed a smile. We crested the bridge and started down the long decline into Coronado as the song ended. She looked up into the big mirror mounted over the windshield, smiled at us and said,
"Yeah, you's guys is OK! Hey, hippie, Avenue D comin' up!"
That was for me. I'd been on her bus many times and she always dropped me off at D, even though it wasn't a regular stop. I stood up as she started to slow down and did the drunk walk to the front of the bus, hung onto the pole by the door and put my hand on her shoulder.
"You know, you're OK by me, ma'am. And, I'm not a hippie..."
"Well, watchu doin' wit dat long hair, den?"
"It gets me laid..."
"Heh. Well, if dat's all it takes, den I guess you's doin' OK, huh?"
She laughed out loud as the bus came to a halt and I swung down the steps and out the door.
"Go get'm, hippie", she called after me.
"See you Monday", I called back.
I flashed a peace sign over my shoulder as she pulled away.
I headed East on D, toward the harbor, and what was supposed to be my home. I was rarely there any more, it had turned into a place to be when I needed some alone time and when Karen told me I needed some alone time. For the price, which was $23.00 dollars a month, I couldn't beat it and it wasn't worth giving up. Not that I had any place else to go. I suppose I could have moved in with Karen, but we weren't quite there yet, and I wasn't sure enough of it being the right and good thing to do, nor let such a cheap rent go. I was sharing the third floor of an old Victorian with my friend Oliver, who I'd know in high school back in Jersey. After we'd graduated, he and his family move out to Coronado. His father was a Navy Commander who retired while Oliver was a senior and as soon as he was done with school, they packed it up and headed West. His father bought a small print shop in San Diego, on 5th Avenue and a year afterward, Oliver called me and asked me if I was interested in moving out here and working for his Dad and him at the print shop. I figured, sure, what the hell. I was a decent pressman, I'd been doing it since I was a sophomore in high school and I was always up for an adventure. Besides, he caught me at a bad time. I was reeling from the after effects of an abruptly ended first love and needed to do something different than sit around and stew, so I packed it up and took off for California.
Oliver's parents had bought an old Victorian home that was literally spitting distance from the harbor beach on Coronado in which he lived in the top floor, in what was originally the servant's quarters when the house was inhabited by the owner of the ferry company that carried everyone and everything back and forth between Coronado and San Diego back in the heyday. His parents charged him $46.00 a month rent. How they came up with that figure was never clearly explained to me, but half of that was certainly manageable, so I moved in with him. For a Navy brat, he was an odd duck. Total stoner, total loner, total nerd. I guess all those years of moving around caused that. I don't know how we hooked up in school, we were the exact opposite. I looked like a freak, but didn't mess around with drugs, had a shit load of friends and was, in my own mind, quite worldly... but friends we became, none the less. And good friends. We played off each other. We'd go on all day Saturday road trips in his beat up old Dodge and have the grandest of times, getting lost, finding cool places and having the most obtuse conversations. Opposites attract, I guess. Anyway, where the hell was I? Oh, yeah...
After I got off the bus, I headed to the house, climbed the three flights of outside stairs to the side door and went inside. Oliver was still in the city, he was big on the Friday night bar scene. I grabbed a quick shower, got dressed, packed a bag for the weekend and headed out on my walk across Coronado, West, to the ocean side, to that mystic place over Jake's Cafe... to her.
It was a nice sojourn, even in the July heat. Coronado was a pretty lively place, there were always people out and about, no matter what the time of day or night, especially when the weather was good. It was just about dark by the time I made it to the Pacific shore and I walked to the beach and stood looking at the last glow of the sun, which was now well below the watery horizon, beaming down on tiny island worlds and mysterious Asia... The beach was still full of people, some of which were winding down their day and some who's day was just starting. It was a world of coast people. As Jack Spicer said, "There is nothing out beyond us, but ocean." Damned right. Life on the left coast.
I wandered back across the ocean front street into Jake's, where I grabbed my usual single by the door and dropped my bag next to my chair. Karen must have been in the kitchen, she wasn't out front, dancing between the tables. I sat there for a few minutes and Jake came out, spied me and walked over.
"Hey, man. Karen's not here. She's upstairs, took the day off. You want something?"
"She ok?"
"Yeah, she's fine. Her sister came to visit so she took the day. Coffee?"
I must have had a bewildered look on my face, because he stood there staring at me and said,
"You ok? You look like you're going to hurl!"
"Uh, yeah, I'm fine. Yeah, coffee is good. What's for dinner?"
"Fried clams."
"Just coffee, thanks."
"You sure you're ok?"
"Yeah, just some coffee..."
He turned back to the kitchen and I sat there staring at the greasy poster taped to the opposite wall announcing Jimi Hendrix at the Filmore West, June 22nd, 1967... Ok, she had a sister. She never told me she had a sister. I guess I never asked. Then again, I never talked about my family much, either. This was monumental. And nauseating. I was considering the situation when Jake returned. He set down one of his mammoth mugs, filled to the top, pulled over a chair from the next table and sat down across from me.
"Man, you look like your dog just died. What the fucks wrong?"
"I'm just a little surprised. Didn't know she had a sister. Did you?"
"Nope"
"I wonder if I should go up there, I mean, it's pretty personal, having a visit from your phantom sister and all..."
"You're such an ass, man. Listen, she really, really likes you. When she's not bitching about the music I listen to, or having to deal with some stoned out surfer asshole, she's yammering on about you. Got it? She likes you. Muchly."
I blew across the mug and took a sip of hours old coffee. Nothing went to waste at Jake's place. Not even day old coffee. He was at least sixty years old. He wore a gray ponytail down to his ass and had been around the track more than a few times. I liked him. I think I saw a bit of my own future in him, god help me. He was a good, honest soul. And he cared for Karen as much or even more than I did.
I looked over the mug at him and asked,
"Do you think so? Really? She really came at me from out of left field, I mean, we have a good thing going, but sometimes, I'm not sure what it is."
"Look, man, she's a good person. I wouldn't let her get involved with someone I didn't like, I mean, she's like a daughter to me and if I thought she was into something bad, I'd toss your ass out of here faster than you could say 'Jack Shit', but you're ok, too. Drink your damned coffee and go up and meet her sister. I think you'll be surprised. Gotta run. Don't be a fucker, man."
"Ok, I won't be a fucker. What do you mean, you think I'll be surprised?"
"Heh. You'll see. Don't be a fucker, or I'll kick your ass."
He could do it, too.

I took a few more sips of my coffee, then got up, walked over to the service counter, dropped a dollar down, said "Good night", to Jake. I picked up my bag and went out the front door. I considered walking back across the street and hanging out with a bunch of surfers who had a considerably large and illegal bonfire going on the beach, wiling away the night and contending with things in the morning, but instead I forced myself up the front stairs to Karen's place over the cafe, opting for the front door, rather than just barging in the kitchen door from the back stairs in the parking lot. I stood and stared at the door and listened to the unusually loud music inside, it was The Beatles "Revolver" playing and I could hear talking and laughing, but I couldn't make out what was being said. I opened the ratty screen door and wrapped with my knuckles on the glass of the inside French door. Nothing. I waited a minute and tried again. Still nothing. Ok, fucker, time to cut and run. Be a coward, nothing new...
As I was standing there, staring at my forlorn reflection in the glass, the door was pulled open and these she was, although I hardly recognized her. She was wearing makeup. I never saw her wear makeup. And a sun dress. I never saw her in a dress before. And sandals. She always wore sneakers. High tops. Always. When she wore shoes.
"Uh, hi."
Something just wasn't right.
"Can I come in?"
"I don't know. Who are you?"
Ok. What the fuck. My first and almost overbearing impulse was to turn and run down the stairs and hope that when I got back to my rented place that there wasn't some big green pod waiting for me...
"Uh, it's me..."
Well, that was stupid.
She turned and yelled over the music into the apartment,
"Karen, I think it's for you!"
Ok. What the fuckity fuck fuck... "It's still not too late to jump off the porch into the street below", I told myself, "Maybe you'll get hurt, or maybe you'll get killed, but you've got to get out of here. NOW!".
But I didn't jump. I just stood there with my mouth open when yet another Karen walked up behind this one, looked over the first Karen's shoulder, started to laugh and said,
"It's ok. Let him in. Just don't stand between him and the coffee pot."
I couldn't move. Seriously, I was physically and mentally paralyzed...
"Is this your boyfriend?", Karen number one said.
"Yeah, I'm sorry to say, it is", Karen number two said.
"Are you going to come in?", asked number one.
"I think he's gone dumb", said number two.
Number one grabbed my arm and pulled me inside. I still couldn't speak. I just kept looking back and forth, trying to figure out just what was going on.
"I think we've harmed him," said number one.
"He'll be ok", said number two.
Number one stuck out her hand and said,
"Hi. I'm Della, Karen's sister. Nice to meet you."
I took her hand and mumbled something about it also being nice to meet her while I stared at Karen, or number two, or whoever she was.
It was sinking in. She was one of a perfect pair. Twins. Just fucking damn.
"Uh, you never told me you had a sister... You look... alike."
Number two replied,
"Yeah. That happens with twins. I'm actually cuter, though. And younger. Della was born seven minutes first. Are you really ok?"
"I'm not being a fucker. Yeah, I'm ok."
"Ok", said Della, "what ever that means, I guess it's good."
'She Said, She Said' was being sung by John Lennon.
"I need some coffee", I chimed in...
"Della, be a dear and put on a pot, ok? I think I need to hold his hand until he comes around."
"Fucking bookends...."
"Yep. I never cease to amaze you, right?"

"Right..."

Della returned from the kitchen.

"So... you're the guy who's banging my little sister, huh?"

"Right..."

She said, she said...

*with apologies to King Crimson...

2010-10-31T00:01:00.000-04:00

A Blessed Samhain...
to one and all.

2010-10-29T20:24:00.004-04:00

"things that go bump..."

"What are we doing?"
I wasn't expecting an answer. I wasn't even sure she was still awake. I reached across her form in the pitch and felt around for my cigarettes and lighter on the nightstand. After groping around, I found them, rolled back, threw back the covers and sat up on the edge of the bed. I felt the flat of her cold hand on my back...
"Where are you going?"
"Out on the back porch to have a smoke. Want one?"
"No, thanks. What do you mean, 'what are we doing'?"
"What are we doing? What are we doing, here, now? For the past four months?"
"I don't know what you mean. What do you want me to say?"
"Probably nothing. I was talking to the dark, really. Go to sleep."

Winter was over, Spring had a heart attack and Summer was dancing at the funeral. It was hot inside, outside, day and night. Even the breeze off the mountains to the East, pulled to the sea by the night, was too warm to be enjoyed. I sat on the porch floor, my back against the outside of the kitchen wall and cupped my hands around my lighter, lit a smoke and dragged in hard. Nothing like a stale cigarette at a quarter past too late in the evening. I exhaled and the smoke just hung there like some specter until it faded away into the dark and became part of the atmosphere, rising into space. I rested my head against the wall and stared out into the glow of the city in the distance when the kitchen light snapped on, casting a yellow counterpane across the weather worn boards of the porch and the railing that was in dire need of some attention and some paint. Through the open window I could hear her filling the coffee pot and setting it down on the burner of the range. I didn't hear the cabinet door open, nor the coffee and mugs being taken down, but I heard it being shut. Not a slam, but not just being closed, either.
"That was a pretty deliberate closing...", I said to myself, the dark and no one else in particular. The screen door opened and she came out, wrapped in a blanket. She leaned, standing, against the wall. Silence was not to be golden that night... nor silver. Lead, maybe.
"What the fuck? What are we doing? What kind of a question is that? It sounds like you're looking for a way out. You found the back door ok, you could just keep on going..."
She wasn't really speaking. More like whispering. Like she was afraid of waking someone or something up.
Oh, god. I rubbed my eyes with the fingertips of my free hand. It was a bad habit of mine, I always rubbed my eyes when things got confrontational. Reflex action.
"Look, I didn't really mean anything by it. I think I was talking to myself. I thought you were sleeping".
"Well, I wasn't and I don't know what we're doing. I don't care what we're doing. Don't do this to me."
"I'm not doing anything. And this is as far out your damned door that I'm interested in going right now."
Nothing. Not a word.

I remember once when I was about five or six years old, my father took me fishing for flounder, off a ramshackle pier in one of the ramshackle towns that hung like a partly peeled off scab on the edge of the bay not too far from where we lived. It was always cold by that water. The bay was fed by a flat land river that forced it's way into it and the Atlantic waters that forced their way into it, around the huge spit of land that jutted out to form the Northern edge of the bay, tempered it even more. Perfect for flat fish. Not so much for not so hardy anglers, or their summer clad kids. I said that he took me fishing. He took me for company. He fished. I wished. This day, however, he handed me one of his short casting rods and taught me how to play out enough line to cast, how to hold it to the bottom of the reel with my index finger, how to two hand cast into the green waters. He held the rod with me the first few time until I got the feel of it, then said, "Go ahead..."
I did everything he told me to do and I cast that baited hook and sinker with all my soul. Along with the rod. Got good distance, too. It arced through the morning misty air and dissapeared into the drink a good ten or fifteen yards out. I just stood there, blinking in disbelief. After a few seconds I looked up and over at my old man, expecting the worst and he was smiling and shaking a Chesterfield short out of the pack he had stashed in his t-shirt pocket.
"Well, you got the motion down pretty good. Next time, hang onto the damned pole, ok?"
I just wanted to walk off the end of the pier and nestle down with the flatties on the bottom and just fade away.
"I'm sorry, Dad..."
"Well, just step back a bit and watch out," was all he said. And I did.
He lit his smoke, picked up his big surf rod, played out some line and cast it out in the general direction of where my rod landed. He slowly reeled it back in, cleaned off some kelp from the hook and tried again. And again. And again. Three or four cigarettes later, I was getting the sense that this was starting to end in a not so good way, when he reeled his line in one more time and just damn, he had snagged my line and rod and brought it up, all dripping and glistening and prettier than any damned flounder I'd ever seen.
"And that's how you do it, Bud."
That was the end of fishing for that day. I sure as hell held onto my rod like my life depended on it from then on. I still do. And I sure as hell realize now that that was a damned lucky cast of his, but that day, it was a fishing miracle.

She pushed herself off the wall, gathered her blanket tighter around her and turned to go back inside. Pausing, with her hand on the door knob, she turned to me and said/whispered/rasped,
"I'm having some coffee," and went inside, letting the door slam shut behind her.
I took the last few pulls on my smoke, flicked it over the railing into the parking lot below and pushed myself up to standing. Fuck me. I'll never learn.
I went inside, got a mug full and sat down across the kitchen table from her. She reached up over her shoulder and flicked the wall switch, turning the kitchen from day to night, light to dark, filled with us, to empty with me. No matter who you're with, how close they are, in the dark, you're alone.
I could hear her breathing. She took in an extra long breath, held it a few seconds and exhaled, "Ask me again..."

"Ok. What are we doing?"

"We're running around in the dark, with scissors... OK?"

Things that go bump. Things that go bump in the night.

"That's how you do it, Bud."

2010-10-22T20:23:00.007-04:00

"black and white..."
"Your ability to state the obvious is nothing short of astounding..."

"Oh, my god, is it really Sunday morning?"
She looked at me over the top of the newspaper and shook her head.
"Afternoon, actually. You seemed to have enjoyed yourself last night. Do you remember anything, or shall I recount the events of the evening to you?"
"I'm not so sure I really need to know. I remember something about it, I think. Was there alcohol involved?"
"Oh, yeah. For someone who doesn't drink, you were quite resolute in your quest to down as much as possible in the shortest time allowed. Do you remember you and Jake having a 'who can puke first' contest?"
"Uh, no... who won?"
"Neither. Your friend Oliver beat you both. I think he's still passed out in his van in the parking lot. Are you ok? You look sort of... green. And wavery. You're definitely wavering."
"I need coffee."
"The pot's on the stove. Be careful"
She turned her attention back to the Sunday LA Times and I fought my way uphill to the kitchen and wrestled the cabinet over the stove for a mug, poured some lukewarm coffee and walked on pillows and broken glass back into the living room. I sat, fell, moved in a gravity induced direction onto the couch next to her, put my head back and wondered why the few pictures and decorations she had on her walls weren't flying off in all directions, with the room gyrating like it was.
"Did I do anything to piss you off?"
"Yep"
"Oh, god, what?"
"You embarrassed the crap out of me, if you want to know."
I wasn't so sure I wanted to hear about this. I only made her mad once before, it was something stupid and she was over it immediately, but making her angry was not high on my list of things I ever wanted to do. There were people that I'd go out of my way to tweak, and it really didn't matter, but with her, it mattered. A lot.
"Ok, you know I'm sorry for what ever it was, but I'd really like to know what I did."
She folded the paper over, put it and the pencil she was using to fill in the Sunday crossword puzzle on the table next to her and she shifted herself sideways to face me. She was wearing her usual nothing. Her famous black hair was wild, hanging all over the place and in her face, and the whites around those dark brown eyes were a bit blood shot, apparently she had more than a few herself last night. I steeled myself for what I thought was to come by putting my cup down, turning to her and taking her hands in mine.
"Ok, what did I do?"
She stared at me so hard it made the back of my numbed head hurt.
"Well, you were holding court at the kitchen table, slamming down shots of tequila and smoking one of those cheap cigars that Jake sells, when someone brought up the subject of sex and you sat there and told everyone that I get the same look on my face when I'm pissed off that I do when I'm having an orgasm... and that sometimes you didn't know which was which. Can you tell which is which right now?"
The radio in the kitchen was on, tuned to a Mexican AM station, as it usually was on Sunday mornings. Cielito Lindo, performed by a Mariachi band, heavy on the brass, was playing, the vocals performed by a woman who sounded like she might have been at the party last night, too many tequilas and too many smokes. I dropped my eyes from hers and stared at her belly button. There was a brand new hickey next to it. I hoped I did that, but I didn't remember for the life of me if I did.
"Right now, yeah, I can. I'm sorry. Really."
I looked back up and she was holding back a laugh.
"You're such a dick. Really."
"Well, it's the truth. You do that squinty eyed, stuck out bottom lip thing. Sometimes I think all I'm doing in bed is pissing you off..."
She draped her arms over my shoulders and looked right into my eyes.
"Maybe you are. Maybe sometime I'll tell you the truth. Right now, you need a shower and some more coffee. You go take a shower and I'll put on a fresh pot, ok?"
"Yeah"

I felt a bit better after standing in the scaling water for a while. Man, I wish there was a window in that bathroom, it was like being is a steam room. I got as dry as I could, put on my steam dampened clothes and walked out into the hallway to be greeted by the aroma of some strong, fresh brew. I pulled another mug full and padded out into the livingroom, where she was back at the crossword. I eased myself back down next to her and blew across the coffee.
"Feel better?"
"Yeah, a bit. Thanks for the coffee."
"Sure. Hey, what's a six letter word for 'regret'?"
"Uh... 'regret'?"
"You are such a dick..."

2010-10-16T20:22:00.007-04:00

"One, two..."
"Buckle my shoe..."

"It's only five days, I'll be back before you know it. And it's my father's birthday, I haven't seen him since I moved out here, it's been almost a year."
"Are you going to tell him about me? About us?"
"Probably. It depends. I'll see how it goes."
"I wouldn't blame you if you didn't. But you do what you think is best..."
"I've had boyfriends before, you know."
"I'm sure."

It's been two days since I saw her off, staring at her through the goodbye window of the Greyhound bus as it pulled out of the 13th Street station, watching it wiggle into the early morning traffic, Southbound to 94, then head for Interstate 8. I got on the next local for Coronado and sat in the last seat in the back, put my head back and closed my eyes, trying to reckon where I was by the turns the bus was making. There weren't many stops between the depot and the bridge out of San Diego that spanned the entrance to the harbor, tall enough for the Navy ships to pass under it, tall enough to offer a view of the entire island when you crested the midway point and start down the long, curved decline. I felt sick to my stomach and the whining of the bus engine and the heat from the mid-morning light coming through the back window was making it worse. I got up and walked to the front and told the driver to let me off at Avenue D, which was met with a protest that it wasn't one of the regular stops, but I persuaded him it would be better to let me off there then have to clean up six or seven cups of regurgitated coffee from the floor of his bus and his better sense prevailed. He pulled over just past the light and I swung out the door and waved thanks over my shoulder and he pulled away and left me standing in a cloud of exhaust that was the final catalyst... I bent over and relieved my stomach of a morning's worth of coffee and angst and missing her. A well dressed young woman and an old man, her father, perhaps, stared and watched me from across the intersection, shaking their heads and exchanging words between themselves, probably thought I was coming home from an all night drunk. I wiped my mouth with my sleeve and stared back at them and tried to smile, but another wave hit me and what little that was left in my gut came rushing out and I made a sound that was not unlike a wounded seal announcing ruin and they hurried away and didn't look back.
I sat down on the corner of someones lawn. I knew the house, but not the people who lived there. It was a tidy little Spanish style bungalow, cream color with a faded Terra cotta tiled roof. I passed it every once in a while on my trek from the place where I rented a room a few blocks from where I sat, passed it on my way to the West side of the island, passed it on my way to the cafe and to her. I rolled over to my hands and knees and pulled myself up to some semblance of standing and trudged East toward my place. I needed to check for mail and get some clothes and supplies for the days I'd be spending at her place over the cafe. This was not good. No, not good at all. We'd been together, seriously together, for only a few months, but this was the first time I'd watched her go away...
"Well, asshole," I said out loud to myself, "You've done it again, haven't you? This wasn't supposed to be a repeat of that last one back in New Jersey, but it is, and do you think she's as upset as you are right now? Probably not. You asshole."

It's just twilight now and I'm sitting on her back porch, over the back of the cafe, staring into the growing glow of the city across the bay, smoking another cigarette and drinking some awful white wine that tastes like bad cheese and smells like the inside of a work boot. But it's doing the job. I may have to get a bottle of Scotch tomorrow or the next day, I think I'll need it when she gets home. I have no idea how I'm going to react when I see her. Maybe I should just leave a note for her on the kitchen table and just fade away. I can play the coward. I've done it before. Just make a clean break of it without having to face her. Or myself. Or, I can spend the next few days sitting here, booze soaked and wait it out, I guess.

"Hey."
I jumped up out of my chair and almost fell over the railing. It was Jake from the cafe.
"Jesus, man, you scared the crap out of me. I didn't even hear you come up the stairs."
"Sorry. I wasn't sure you were here, but now that you are, I talked to Karen a little while ago. She said to see if you were here and if you were, to tell you she said "hi" and to make sure you were OK. She sounded worried about you."
"I'm fine, thanks. If she calls again, tell her I'm fine."
"OK. Gotta finish closing up. You want some coffee? Or some food? I got some stuff left over, you can come down and get some food."
"I'm good. Thanks, though. Maybe I'll stop in for breakfast tomorrow."
"OK. Have a good one. Later"
He disappeared down the stairs into the dark of the back parking lot, and I take up my vigil once again, watching over the city and listening to the muffled sound of the waves from across the street for another hour or so, then I go inside and fall face first on her bed and drift away.

"Three, four, shut the door..."

2010-10-05T20:51:00.001-04:00

I've been pretty busy the past week or so, leading up to this...

Walking my daughter down the aisle last Saturday...

2010-09-24T20:11:00.005-04:00

"centrifuge..."
"it's all in the way you say it..."

"You realize that this is never, ever going to end well, right?"
"Yeah."
"I mean, we're both going to end up going back where we came from, you know?"
"Not without a fight."
"I thought you never fought?"
"No, I never argue. Are you going to make some coffee? I really want some coffee. I've been thinking about drinking coffee all the way over here. Do you want me to make some coffee?"
"No, I'll make it. Just give me a minute to get undressed..."
"You really don't like clothes, do you?"
"I really like clothes, I just don't like wearing them. You don't seem to mind."
"No, I don't."

She backed out of the kitchen into the hallway, undoing her hair from it's loose ponytail, letting if fall like the cold mist that was curtaining down from the clouds that couldn't make up their minds if they were clouds or fog or a cat or the town drunk, or what. I still wasn't used to this California winter, if that's what you could call it. One day it was warm and sunny and the next it was gray and damp and chilly. Sometimes it was both on the same day. It never really rained, the sky just sort of leaked this damned gray, chilly mist that clung to everything like a bad reputation or a grade school lie. It was tolerable at night, especially around here, it made the sky and the ocean all one, and the lights of the town reflected on the clinging drops, like one of those cheap, glittery cardboard houses that my parents used to put under the Christmas tree every year, but in the day time it was just plain depressing. It made you feel less than wet, but more than damp. I weighed you down, both physically and mentally and was probably the prime cause of savage, bloody murders and other more horrible mayhem.
"Honest, your honor, I don't know what happened... one minute I was standing there in his doorway, all soaked with that damned mist and the next thing I knew I was rolling up his body in an oriental carpet... I plead insanity by reason of this god damned Southern California winter..."
Luckily, all it made me want to do was drink more coffee than usual. With her.

I had turned the kitchen chair I was sitting in to the window, and I was watching the drops roll down the glass, when she returned from bedroom and I watched her naked reflection grow larger in the mirror pane as she came up behind me, wrapped her arms around my shoulders and rested her chin on my shoulder. We stayed like that for a long, long time, watching that parade of drips and drops down the outside of the glass, occasionally looking at each other's reflection, not speaking, not with words, anyway. I reached up with crossed arms and held her arms, pulling her closer and she tightened her hug, then she pulled back a bit, bent her head down and rested her forehead on my shoulder for a few seconds, then turned and whispered in my ear,
"Just, please, don't ever tell me that you love me, ok? Whatever this is and how ever long it lasts, it's going to be something wonderful, and I will never, ever hurt you, but please... just don't ever tell me that, ok?"
Millenniums passed before I stopped looking at my reflection in the window, and it was only the pain of me biting the inside of my bottom lip that brought me back to this so called reality and I nodded my head and she moved away from me and while I sat there watching her in that wet mirror world, she filled the beat up old coffee pot with water and ground coffee, lit the burner with a wooden match, blew it out and dropped it in the sink. I sat, silent and still, in her silent and still kitchen, listening to the hiss of the gas flame and the sound of the coffee pot beginning to perk. The faint aroma of new born brew wafted through the room. I stood up and turned around to see her leaning against the sink, her arms crossed over her chest and that tangled black hair falling all over the place. She narrowed her eyes, cocked her head and asked,
"Cat got your tongue?"
"Yeah."
"You want to leave?"
"No, not really. I want to have a cigarette. And then I want to sit with you and drink some coffee and stare into your eyes. And then I want to go to bed with you and hold you till you fall asleep and then tell you stories to help you dream. And then I'll leave. For tonight."
"I'll make you breakfast if you stay."
"Next time... if you want a next time."
"Don't take what I said the wrong way."
"No, I never would. Is that coffee done yet? It smells done. I really want some coffee."
"You are a coffee junkie... "

Round and round we go, round and round and round, we go...

2010-09-09T20:09:00.010-04:00

"Who knew..?'

"Do you believe in anything..?"

I let myself in the back door, the kitchen door, her kitchen door. I always came in through her kitchen door, it seemed so, so elemental. Our first kiss was in her kitchen, in the dark, her hair filled with the smell of the damp January Pacific chill we had just wandered through after I met up with her at the end of her shift at the cafe downstairs. We could have just tripped up the back stairs, but we strolled all along the ocean side road, sipping cardboard coffee she poured for us as she nighty-nighted everyone in the kitchen while I watched through the back screen door. The steam from our brews curled up into the stillness of the night air and was multiplied by our blowing across our cups to cool it enough to drink, we must have looked like two dragons of yore, trolling for an errant knight to fry. No knights that night. They were all inside, warming their armor by the fire while we dared the damp Pacific chill to chase us from out of doors, but we wouldn't go. For only eleven at night, it was dead along our way. Southern Californians didn't seem to like the cold, but I, from the ocean on right side of the land, and she from the mountains that divided them, were used to worse than this. We were both used to the worst of everything. That's what drew us together, I now know. I mistook that first glance she returned over my coffee cup for affection, maybe even interest, but I think she saw in my eyes what i was seeing in her's. Neither one of us belonged here. I think she thought I was thinking she was as out of place as I was, sitting alone at the single by the cafe door, trying to read the future in the chips on the rim of my mug, while she flitted about between the tables and the service bar, carrying plates and ferrying mugs. Every sideways glance of hers was met by a smile I couldn't control, I remember shaking my head when she came over to see if I wanted anything else and, while what I wanted, really, really wanted, was a greasy grilled cheese sandwich and a plaid paper basket of greasy fries, I couldn't help it. It was some sort of nervous reaction to her attentions. Actually, what I really, really, really wanted was a name and phone number hastily scrawled on a napkin with her nubby waitress pencil, casually folded and dropped with some spy like motion on my table as she twirled by with empties and silverware and crumpled paper place mats. I wanted it to be mysterious, like she was promised to another, but was looking for one last clandestine fling. But no. After everyone had left, save me and some stoned looking couple that was hunkered down in the last booth by the kitchen door, she walked up, brushed a stray tangle of her famous black hair out of her face, stuck out her hand to me and said,
"Hi, I'm Karen. I get off at eleven, you going to be around?"
"Indeed. It's a pleasure to meet you."
"Likewise. And don't get the wrong idea, I'm not of the habit of throwing myself at strangers, especially strange looking strangers, but you seem safe enough..."
"You have no idea. I'm not from around here, I'm a refugee from New Jersey. And you're not from around here, either, are you? I'd say by that accent, you're from the Midwest somewhere, maybe not too far from Texas?"
"Close, but no cigar, rube. New Mexico. I won't tell any more than that, you'd probably laugh if you knew where in N'Mex I'm from."
"Gotta be Pie Town..."
"Sunnabitch..."
"Lucky guess. I was out there last year, I bought some property about fifteen miles out of town and was checking it out. What are you doing out here, tips at the Daily Pie not good enough?"
"I don't like cowboys and being all worldly and such, I decided to try the left coast. Uh, I gotta go throw those two out, it's almost closing time. You really going to hang around? I need to talk to you."
"I'm yours. Of course, a coffee to go would be nice."
"Natch. Black, no sugar. Be right back."
So, she ushered out Raggedy Anne and Raggedier Andy, the stoners, locked the front door and vanished into the kitchen for five or ten minutes and came out and bade me follow her to the back door, where she shoved me outside where I watched her pour two cups of cardboard coffee into two cardboard cups and pause to do the bump with Jake, the owner and cook, to some scratchy Presley tune crawling out of his ancient transistor radio. She threw on an oversize red and black flannel shirt, grabbed our coffees and elbowed through the door, let it slam shut, thrust out a cup to me and, hooking her arm in mine, we walked. And walked. North, along the ocean road, until she decided that we'd been heading that direction long enough, she spun me to the South and we headed back toward Jake's Place, now dark and hollow and looking with a forlorn gaze out over the Pacific, like it wanted to be on the other side, serving up all that greasy and caffeinated to the Japanese...
"I thought you wanted to talk to me?"
"I am, or are you not as perceptive as I thought you were?"
"You'd be surprised."
"I think you're going to be full of surprises. Hey, I live over the shop, you want to come up for a nightcap? Uh, coffee, I mean. I mean, I didn't want to make you think, um, I mean, I didn't want you to expect something..."
"I never expect anything from anyone. That way no one ever gets hurt..."
So, we tripped up her back stairs and into her kitchen. That dark, strange kitchen. And after I held her and she held me and I smelled the damp January Pacific chill in her hair, I tipped her face up and, having gotten used to the dark, looked as deep into her dark brown eyes as I could. There were stories upon stories in those eyes, more that I'd ever be made party to, and that was OK. And she kissed me, quietly and softly. That surprised me and I started to laugh. She just shook her head and lay it back on my chest.
And now I'm in that kitchen, once again. I have a key. I can find my way around in the dark as good as she can. I'll just pull a chair up to the window here, look out at the dying lights of town and wait for her. I think they're having a special on fish and chips down stairs. I can always tell what they've been hawking on any given day by what her hair smells like when we hold each other close. Every once in a while I wish they'd run a special on damp January Pacific cold, with a side of cardboard coffee...

2010-09-03T19:18:00.009-04:00

"oh, and it's BYOB..."

"This penchant of yours for thinking too much will be the very end of you, you know.."

She walked around me like a sculptress, not so much like she was looking for form in the raw block of what I thought I was, but more like she was wary of planting her foot on one of the razor shards that fell each time she wielded her mallet and chisel.
The orange evening Autumn sun cast itself through the hazy glass of the bedroom windows, washing all in some sick color that was making even the polished pine floor look queasy, like that look she had on her face after she got so sick trying to smoke one of my cigars. It even muted her usual glow. And, it smelled, if a color can have an odor, like a pair of old pantyhose, or something that reminded me of old pantyhose, god knows why it reminded me of pantyhose, but it did. She preferred knee socks. I never argued that fashion bent of hers. I never argued any of her fashion choices. I never argued...
I take that back. I argued, once. But not with her. With another. She was, at the height of that sole argument, standing naked in a kitchen, bathed not in this orange light, but the light of a candle sitting in a saucer on her kitchen table, wishing, I'm sure, it was burning it's life away someplace else, as did I. Standing hard and straight, her arms crossed over her small breasts, her long bronze hair hanging about her like some Druid cape, biting her bottom lip as her pale gray eyes filled with water, while I argued that, like the remnant of that taper alight in the darkness, she was better off burning her life away someplace as well. I was a wanderer and she was an angel with translucent skin and fluttering wings, an air dancer and a miracle worker and was more worthy than I could afford at the time. That didn't end well. I won that argument. That's why I don't argue any more. Sometimes, you win...
But, back to now.

She continued her buzzard dance around me for a few more seconds, then crossed the room and stood looking out through the window, and became but some brown-gray ghost with a pumpkin aura, staring at the setting sun over the little town down the hill. She, too, was naked, save for a pair of fuzzy brown knee socks, of her own creation, knitted one night while we sat on her porch, as I read aloud from a book short stories about trout fishing. Naked, but not for any reason other than she preferred to be naked when inside her place. Always when she was alone and always when I was her sole company. Or mostly always. I wasn't as comfortable with myself as she was and preferred to remain in my usual jeans and sweatshirt, except when they got in the way, like last night or two nights ago, or a thousand nights ago, whenever it was, I really can't remember, when she coerced me onto her living room floor and made me lie there naked with her while she wrote out a shopping list for this party she was planning on having the next weekend. She kept getting up and padding into the kitchen to bang about the cabinets looking for things she thought she might have, but didn't, that were added to her list. I lay on my left side, she on her right, facing me, her paper and pencil on the floor between us while she scribbled in her left handed little kid's printing:

THINGS FOR THE PARTY:

POTATO CHIPS (THE ORANGE KIND)
LICORICE
BREAD AND CHEESE AND BUTTER FOR GRILLED CHEESE SANDWICHES!
COFFEE
CARROTS
AND YOGURT FOR DIPPING (PLAIN)
BALLOONS
PAPER PLATES
~~HERB TEA FOR DYLAN'S GIRLFRIEND~~ FUCK HER!!!
NUTS (IN A CAN WITH LOTS OF SALT)
~~RED WINE AND WHITE WINE AND~~
GINGER ALE AND LEMON LIME SODA

She pushed the list into my face and said,
"Can you think of anything else?"
"I'm trying to figure out why you want to have a party..."
"It's for you. You need a party. It will make you happy and it will make me happy and for a few hours I won't worry about you and wonder why you always just sit and stare at me all night."
"I like to stare at you. You're stare-worthy."
"You can stare at me at your party. Are you sure I'm not forgetting anything?"
"You're not supplying any booze for your, I mean, our friends?"
"Nope, if they want to drink, it's BYOB."

Chisel, mallet... tap, tap, tap...

She turned away from the window at exactly the same moment the molten orb fell behind the furthest off hill and walked back to where I was sitting in the middle of the twilight blue room on her old wooden bar stool. Not everyone I knew or loved or wanted to love had an old bar stool in their bedroom, but she did. She took up her pace around me again, the scuff of her socks on the ancient pine, the air of her nakedness whirling around me like some maelstrom of mythic lust, counter-clockwise she moved, anti-sun wise, like how she moved around her circle in the clearing in the woods, that holy place where she talked to her goddess and sang to her gods... Her left index finger traced across my shoulders, then across my lips, then around and around again in that dance. I knew what she was doing and I let it happen. I never, ever argue...

2010-08-30T20:29:00.003-04:00

"I shall retire to Bedlam..."

This is an actual conversation I had today on the phone with my health insurance company, which wanted some clarification on how I ended up needing eight stitches in my arm last month;
(I was taking down an old pre-fab chimney on my home and was carrying a section down a very tall ladder, when I lost control of it and it came down on my arm and lacerated it).

Insurance Rep (with a very heavy, indescribable accent):
"So, when you injured your arm, was a third party involved?"

Me:
"Only my stupidity..."

Insurance Rep:
"So, it was job related?"

May Bast watch over and keep us all...

2010-08-27T18:25:00.005-04:00

"I know what I like..."

I once saw all the world in a glance, in the story your eyes told as you looked at me over your cup, as you took a sip of coffee...

"Consequence will be the death of time.."
You told me that once, it didn't make sense. I don't know if it does yet, but it has a truth about it I don't want to face. Maybe it does make sense, maybe you knew more about me then, then I know about myself now.

I've died for you ten thousand times. Maybe twenty.
I've never, ever, said "no".
I've eaten your shadows, and choked on their bones.

But, in spite of all that, you didn't get it, did you?

2010-08-25T20:01:00.001-04:00

"but, what about the crops..?"

Thou hast slain me,
as surely as would you have wielded some terrible sword,
and slashed through muscle, and slashed through sinew and shattered bone...

Still and quiet in the dark would we lay,
your smooth back against my chest, my offering to you
clenched in that holy warmth,
one were we...

This night I sit aside, by the stillest of waters
and watch the white moon rise
through the willow veil,
while it's twin creeps slowly nearer across the mirror lake.

Where is the promised rain..?

2010-08-24T20:03:00.002-04:00

"alas, Ophelia..."

He lay in a tangled mass on the marble floor of the foyer landing, all akimbo, alone, confused and shocked by the fall. Raising his head, he looked around with gauzed eyes, trying to find his senses. The first thing he recognized were the four streaks of blood on the wall of the stairway, he must have reached out with his left hand to slow his fall, but, alas, to no avail, apparently. He pushed himself up to sitting against the cold varnish of the front door and unfolded his legs from beneath him, straight out. Good, they still worked. Bones of the legs were hard to break and harder to heal...
Warily, he reached up to his face to brush the hair away from his eyes and felt the blood matted mass.
"Oh, shit", he said to the dark and to himself and to the reality of what had happened. He blinked his eyes till they were clear of the shock and stared at the finger tips of his left hand. They were shredded, bloodied and sore, but nothing more. The blood from his forehead ran down the side of his nose, over his lip and dripped onto the front of his shirt. He licked his lips with some auto response to the trauma and the cloy of the sweet, coppery blush of his leaking life made his tongue recoil and his lips purse like they did when he was a child and tasted an unripe persimmon plucked from the tree in his parents back garden... but that was so very, very long ago and this is the now and he's hurting and scared and his nerves are starting to come back to life and he's shaking and he realizes that the whole time, he's been purring, like his cat, that dreadful cat that tangled itself between his legs and caused him to plummet like a clown falling out of a tree down the stairs, crashing to the cold grey marble of the floor. The marble floor, ah, he'd payed dearly for that marble floor, intended to impress the few and far between visitors to his grim old pile, but now part of the machine of his misery and woes...
"Damned cat, god-damned cat", he whispered to himself and the stillness, that sound void envelope that follows the mighty crash...
He sat in the dying twilight that crept through the windows of the foyer hall, recounting the fall as his senses more and more returned to him. He remembered feeling weightless, feeling like glass, feeling like a tinkling bell as all connection with solid things fell away from him and he felt like an angel hovering over some new Madonna, like all the world has been whisked away in some sideshow barker's lament, like, like falling... like one of those recurrent dreams where he would fall and fall and fall, and suddenly awake just before he hit the ground in a sickening crunch, feeling every bone shatter, every muscle ripple, every cell stop and rebound in some instantaneously everlasting event... but this time the dream continued and he remembered the sound of hitting the floor, the sound of his body stopping in an instant of time, but the sound continued in his mind, squeezed down through some funnel of the brain until it became some insane, shrill ringing and then, the darkness... and quiet.
By now, his head was throbbing and, although he had regained most of his senses, the trauma was still in control. He looked down between his legs. He'd wet himself. One slipper was missing. His glasses were nowhere to be seen, and his right thumb seemed to be dislocated and was now starting to announce itself like his drunken ex-wife did when she arrived fashionably, albeit unaccountably late, for every and any party...
"I must try to stand", he said aloud to no one... and try he did, and succeeded, although on rubber legs he stumbled to the dining hall doorway and felt life and blood returning to his limbs, he saw Ophelia, dear, dear Ophelia, sitting on the dining table, licking her front paw and gazing at him over her task, as some stern schoolmaster might do over his spectacles at some errant student.
"Thou art the cause of my misery, thou vile, vile beast", he thought, but reached out to her and rubbed her head and stroked her ears and loved, again, the smoothness of her fur and was able to forgive, at least for now. Walking through the dining hall to the scullery to find some water and cloths to cleanse his wounds and some strong drink to regain his bearings and thought,
"How lucky is that cat, that she didn't kill me..."

2010-07-26T19:07:00.002-04:00

milk for the duck...

2010-07-15T20:29:00.001-04:00

spew accordingly below...

2010-07-14T19:36:00.000-04:00

don't worry about me...

spew accordingly below...

2010-06-15T17:30:00.003-04:00

166...
A leaf in a stream...

Life needs tending to.

I'm a wanderer, so I've gone a-wandering. I'll be back when the tending to is done. I'm leaving a light on, mostly so I can find my way back one of these days.

In the mean time, well, I don't know...

A leaf in a stream...

2010-06-12T00:01:00.000-04:00

Saturday's Goth Girl...

blah, blah, blah... snort, fizzle, goop...
This blog has turned into a wasteland. Gotta rethink this... Stand by for adventure in 3... 2... 1....

spew accordingly below...

2010-06-05T14:13:00.004-04:00

Saturday Night Serial..!
This is the stuff I thrived upon when I was just a little goth... I'll post a chapter every Saturday night for the next 12 weeks...
"The Phantom Creeps" with Bela Lugosi, from 1939. Chapter 1 - "The Menacing Power".

Enjoy!

spew accordingly below...

2010-06-04T21:26:00.003-04:00

Saturday's Goth Girl...

click to embigify for the full effect...

yeah, yeah, I know, she's really harajuku, not goth, but she's really, really f'n cute, so she wins...

spew accordingly below...

2010-05-31T00:00:00.004-04:00

Musical Monday...

It just turned the witching hour, I'm sitting alone in the dark, thinking even darker thoughts, probably fueled by a quantity of caffeine that would cripple most mortals, listening to music that suits my current mood... I sometimes wonder about the road I've tread...

spew accordingly below...

2010-05-29T11:59:00.003-04:00

Memorial Day

HERE RESTS IN HONORED GLORY AN AMERICAN SOLDIER KNOWN BUT TO GOD

I don't know how much posting I'm going to do this weekend, I'm going to be very busy working on the grounds, gathering materials to start restoring and replacing the woodwork on the outside of Stately Sad Old Goth Manor® and visiting with family and friends.

Please, what ever you're doing this weekend, keep in your heart those who have served and sacrificed to protect and defend what we should all hold so dear; our freedom, our liberty, our great United States of America. Let their sacrifice be our shield, let their courage be our buckler when the day comes when we, too, may be called upon to protect and defend those sacred tenants put forth by our founding fathers. We face dark and uncertain days. Do not let those patriot souls look down upon us and feel they have died in vain. Keep them close to you, always. Their shining souls shall light our way.

spew accordingly below...

2010-05-29T00:01:00.000-04:00

Saturday's Goth Girl...

OMG, OMG, OMG..!!!

spew accordingly below...

2010-05-26T19:14:00.003-04:00

Shorn Old Goth...

Well, here's the before picture...

And here's the after...

I hope that, unlike Samson, this doesn't effect my, ummm, prowess...

spew accordingly below...

2010-05-24T20:12:00.002-04:00

Musical Monday... better late than never!

"Evergreen" by Mostly Autumn. Reminds me of an old favorite, Renaissance. Enjoy.

spew accordingly below...

2010-05-24T18:42:00.002-04:00

144...
hair today, gone tomorrow...
I'm donating the better part of my waist length ponytail to Locks of Love tomorrow. I should still have about a foot left, it hasn't been that short in about twenty two or three years. It will grow back, my hair grows like a weed, and it's going for a good cause. It's really nothing and the least I can do to help someone in need.

spew accordingly below...

2010-05-22T21:48:00.003-04:00

142.01...
And so, day has gone down to twilight, tempered by a pewter sky and a light rain, not unlike a goodbye caress... that last time tracing of a cheek by gentle fingers not to be felt again, ever...

I promised you a story. Here's a story about the death of love, the death of California and the death of a special thing...

The Death of California

California died on March 1st, 1973, on the beach at the end of Avenue G. Everything you owned was packed in your car, the apartment over the luncheonette emptied out, hollow and melting like a jack o'lantern on a late November front porch. No ghosts could live there, it was a place too sad for haunting, we carried our ghosts out with us, quietly as always. We met up on the chilly beach just after noon, when the fog had been blown over to try out Japan by the landward breeze. I couldn't talk. You wouldn't. Not that we ever did that much, our conversations were mostly visual. You stuck your hand out from under the red and white striped blanket you wore wrapped around you and took mine, only for a moment and then let it drop. You turned your face into the side of my arm and cried. I could only look down at your always bare feet, so tan and so tiny and watch the sand crush up between your curled toes. It half covered your pink nail polish and made your toes look like lost bits of coral. You turned away from me and walked away and, although I should have, I didn't watch you go.
And so it ended a block from where it began, with a late night cup of coffee and a meeting by chance.
It was real quiet when California died. I was never party to the death of a place before. It wasn't nice.

That was real. Really, really real. Looking back in time, it seems that things were more real then. Life now is not such a real time event, it's more like some grey funnel, down which pour memories of days past and half believed plans for days yet to come, some blurred swirl of emotions that churn their way down that maelstrom, colliding and mixing as they disappear into some colorless blend, but nothing distills out the other end of that life consuming infundibulum, it all just fades away...
I've been trying to rectify that loss of all that, trying to sort it all out, in some order, and put it all down on pages. I want to pass it on. But, I can't. Every time I try to put pen to paper, something breaks. I have developed some psychological condition that will not allow me to translate these thoughts to written word. It's almost as if these thoughts do not want to be read, they paralyze my hand, they refuse to be written, as though laying them down in ink will somehow remove the very essence of them, like some scrivener with a vampire bent might do... It's as though the very act of giving them life will kill them. They fight me, yet they taunt me. They scream at me to be saved, yet shun all efforts to pull them from the sea of memory and swim further out, into the dark frothing ocean, where they beckon for redemption, yet turn away from the actions of any saviour. Cursed be these thoughts, they do haunt me so... And they do not realize that they won't live forever. When I go, do they. Silly, stupid, impetuous things, they are. Ah, well. Perhaps I should seek out a ghost writer to employ, one who can listen to my endless ramblings and transcribe them into some way that can be understood. Maybe that's part of the problem. Thoughts are not all black and white, orderly lines of letters and words, they are scenes from a life, to be played as if on a stage. Really, do any of you think in such a sterile manner? I don't. Every thought, every memory, every yet to be laid plan is cloaked to fit in some tableau, presented, performed and represented, again and again. Memories are refined, plans are rehearsed. It's like trying to take a performance by some gilded actor and put all the emotions evoked back down on paper as mere words, which is what that only were to begin with. It's in the emoting they come alive. Perhaps I shouldn't try to write this damned book. Maybe I should go on tour with a series of one man plays... gah. I need another beer and a cigarette, I'll be back.

Ok, I'm back.
So, where was I? The thought train has derailed, I think. It's still lightly raining, but off to the West is a break in the cloud cover, the dark violet of the dying strain of twilight is peeking through. Quite pretty, actually. I don't mind the rain so much in the warm months, it's distinctly different from those cold Winter rains that beat down from the sky and strike the ground full on, drumming loudly and causing a mist to rise from the land as the drops explode on the cold hardened earth. Now the rains are tempered by the leaves on the trees, where it collects and drips down onto the soft grass. The sound is so much different, as is the effect. The world is softer in the Spring and Summer, the sounds of the rain are muted by the veil of living things, by the verdent canopies of the trees and the masses of flowers and plants that fill the gardens that in winter are barren patches in the frozen lawn. There is nothing like a Summer rain shower. There is no sadness in a Summer rain, save for when it rains on a long awaited backyard party or other such outside time. A Summer rain is a bringer of life, a recycling of water wrought from the land by the sun, given back to nourish and nurture. A Winter rain, no matter how light or short, seems to throw itself at you, with ill abandon, to rub in your face the cold by making it worse with it's dampness and it's wet, sodden chill. It takes days to get over a Winter rain. It lingers in your bones and numbs the mind. It pervades the house and makes everything smell of wet and damp, in spite of your fight against it with furnace or stove. Even the bed clothes seem to need wringing out. I'd rather it snowed. Yes, there is nothing like a Summer rain...
One more cigarette. I'll be right back.

Well, I saw the first firefly of the season just now. It's hanging out in the potted asparagus fern just outside the back door. It's a female, I can tell by the two quick flashes, then a few seconds, then another two. She's signaling for a mate. I wish her luck in her amorous adventures...
I think I'm going to call it a night. The rain has stopped and there's a grand haze laying on the land. I'm going for a walk in the woods out back, then off to the Land of Nod for me. I'm beat from all the lawn mowing, trimming and weeding I did today.
I bid thee all a fair eve, my fellow wanderers.
Fare thee well.

Gregor

spew accordingly below...

2010-05-22T16:47:00.002-04:00

142...
It's Bachelor Hall at Stately Sad Old Goth Manor® tonight, so I'll be cranking up the music, having an adult beverage or two or three and maybe even tell you a story. It's been a long time since I've told you a story. Prepare to be bored. I'm off to make some dinner, then I'll be back when night has fallen.
Later.

spew accordingly below...

2010-05-22T16:37:00.002-04:00

It's Prog Rock Saturday Night..!
Woo-hoo! It's Camel, performing "Mother Road" live in concert, 1997. Highly underrated band, in my humble opinion. Enjoy.

spew accordingly below...

2010-05-22T07:46:00.001-04:00

Saturday's Goth Girl...

spew accordingly below...

2010-05-21T08:43:00.003-04:00

141...

hey, I can dream, can't I..?
Available on black t-shirts in my Cafe Press shop... buy several, Stately Sad Old Goth Manor® needs a new roof.

spew accordingly below...

2010-05-17T00:01:00.001-04:00

Musical Monday...

Where does the weekend go? It seems like I barely make it through the work week and so look forward to that Friday night ride home, then the weekend vanishes in a whirl of yard work and errands, then, poof! It's gone. I guess that's what happens this time of the year, there's always something to do. Not like during the cold months, when I can settle into my comfy chair in the dark, put on some music and relax with something that cheers and inebriates and get lost in my thoughts as the rhythms carry me away...
Last week I was delving into the music of the East and as I started moving back in this direction, I was thinking about some of the great African musicians I've encountered over the years like Aleke Kanonu, Ayub Ogada, Fela Kuti and the astoundingly moving performer from Senegal, Youssou N'Dour. His CD, "The Lion" has been a staple in my house for many years. I first encountered him when he toured with Peter Gabriel in 1985, during the "So" tour. His singing gives me the chills... he carries the soul of Africa in every note. So, I hope you enjoy this beautiful performance of "In Your Eyes", featuring Youssou and Peter, and off to the left there, you can catch a glimpse of the great Tony Levin on bass...

Click the "Musical Monday" logo to go to Diane's place and see who else is joining in on the fun.

spew accordingly below...

2010-05-15T18:00:00.000-04:00

It's Prog Rock Saturday Night..!
I thought I'd take a little break from Yes tonight. Things come to you in the oddest moments; I was out chasing the lawn mowing machine around today and this song popped into my mind out of nowhere, so here you go -
Gentle Giant, live in 1974, performing "Advent of Panurge" from the 1972 album, Octopus.

Cool, huh? I didn't know too many other Gentle Giant fans back in the day, when the prog scene was dominated by Yes, ELP, Genesis, King Crimson and the like. Musically, I'd put them on par with all those bands, and, in some instances, well above. (Well, except for ELP, whom were eclipsed by most everyone; they were good and I enjoyed them because they incorporated classical themes into their compositions, but they tended to drone on a bit, at least to my ear at times... and they were too much into the showmanship and their music suffered for it).
Gentle Giant took off in the direction that Bill Bruford was trying to drag Yes and ran with it. They approached that cross over threshold between prog and jazz that Zappa lept over with the One Size Fits All album, but they remained unique and innovative and fresh for many, many years, and they're as much fun to listen to today as they were almost forty years ago.

spew accordingly below...

2010-05-15T05:44:00.002-04:00

Saturday's Goth Girl...

spew accordingly below...

2010-05-12T18:29:00.001-04:00

132...
me and daughters... fuzzy i-Phone pic, but you get the idea.

spew accordingly below...

2010-05-10T12:09:00.006-04:00

It's Musical Monday, yet again...

And I resume sailing away to the music of the East...
The closer I get to the cradle of civilization, the more earthy and ancient and mysterious the music gets, as are the emotions it stirs...

This is called "The Hunt", performed live by Niyaz, with Azam Ali's enthralling voice carrying me away to some dark desert place, the hint of the far away sea on the zepyhers of the night, the light of the stars bright enough to see by... and the earth sings...

As always, click the Musical Monday banner to be taken to Diane's place, where you can connect with all the others who participate in the adventure of discovery and sharing... join in, won't you?

spew accordingly below...

2010-05-09T10:56:00.003-04:00

129...
It's Mother's Day, so Happy Mother's Day to all you mothers out there... Here's The Mothers, playing "Motherly Love".
Enjoy...

spew accordingly below...

2010-05-08T18:00:00.001-04:00

It's prog rock Saturday night..!
As promised, here's another favorite composition by Yes... Ever since the tour to promote the "Close To The Edge" LP back in late 1972 and early 1973, this has been the opening number of any Yes show. They started using the last movement of Stravinsky's "Firebird Suite" as their setting music, to get the crowd's attention and take the stage in place of the usual loosely adapted "Preludium and Fugue in C Major" by JS Bach that was their standard fare for many years, and the first chunky guitar riffs from Steve Howe blend perfectly with the soaring crescendo of the Firebird... really, you have to be there to experience it. Seriously. If you're a Yes fan, this shit really gives you the shivers...
Enjoy... "Siberian Khatru" by Yes, live in Montreux, 2003, with the full original lineup.

spew accordingly below...

2010-05-08T00:01:00.000-04:00

Saturday's Goth Girl...

spew accordingly below...

2010-05-05T20:19:00.002-04:00

127...
Hey, it's Friday Night! Time to get dressed to the nines, hit a goth club, stake a claim on a ratty old sofa, sip on a watery Scotch on the rocks and watch all the baby bats bopping around to the thump, thump, thump of some dark wave and electro-goth techno... or finish mowing the f'n lawn in the dark... I gotta get a life.

spew accordingly below...

2010-05-05T20:05:00.003-04:00

Weird ass cell phone picture of the week...

At least once a week I have to go through the pictures on my cellphone and delete the accidental images that always seem to be taken of the inside of my pocket, or of Bast knows what else, but every once in a while, something really strange shows up, and, being the frugal goth I am, I decided that I wouldn't waste the opportunity to post something that doesn't take much thought, humor or effort on my part, hence, yet another new and probably short lived feature for your amusement...
here's the first one...

no, I have no idea what that is... it scares me, for some reason, but I don't know what it is...

spew accordingly below...

2010-05-03T00:01:00.003-04:00

Musical Monday...

Saturday and Sunday were in the low nineties and high eighties, with seventy percent humidity, it was more like July then the beginning of May... I got to thinking about Summers past and thought about posting some typical Summer sounds and a certain song came to mind that, when I first heard it back in 1968, when I was a freshman in high school, just blew my mind, which had been numbed by the sonic attacks of the ever present Beatles, the soulless three minute pop tunes, engineered to fit on a 45 rpm record and the commercial punctuated drone of the AM radio scene.
In October of 1967, WNEW-FM in New York launched their new rock format, hosted by the likes of Allison Steele, the "Nightbird", who spun over from what was considered to be a racy (for the day) nighttime format of adult talk radio, Scott Muni and Bill "Rosko" Mercer, who had recently abandoned the top forty format of another station, and the incredible Jonathon Schwartz, who moved over from what was our household staple, the big band and jazz programs on WNEW-AM. Jonathon turned me on to things that you just couldn't hear on the AM bands; The Doors, The Grateful Dead, The Band, Cream, Hendrix, Joplin, The Who, The Byrds, The Mothers of Invention, Dylan, Leonard Cohen. Leonard Cohen for Bast's sake, oh ye gods, can you just wonder..?
All the music that made parents blanch and reel backwards with terror. Wild, unfathomable stuff, that made us musical adventurers keep our ears glued to our scratchy old FM transistor radios, especially in the late night, when we were supposed to be asleep, but were laying there in the dark, trying to place ourselves in those strange worlds we heard put to tunes like nothing we'd ever heard before... emotions that escaped our lives, held us spellbound, opened our ears and our minds. Most people I knew lived musical lives were like a hang-over from the fifties, fueled by mortal fear of anything that crawled out from under the rock that was the cornerstone of their "normal" lives.*
Imagine, if you will, what it was like to hear pablum like this churned out hour after hour in those far away days of 1968...

That's the Top Forty of 1968, click to embiggen, if you dare.

Yeah, The Doors and Cream are on that list, but all you heard were the sanitized, trimmed down singles. FM radio hooked us up to the intravenous bag of the album length versions and more, and, man, what dose that was...
Then, just think what a sonic shock it was to have this thrown at you without due warning...

That's "Summertime Blues" as cranked out at a volume setting of 11, by who were actually described as the loudest band in the world**, Blue Cheer.
Three minutes, twenty eight seconds of the wildest, brain splitting, speaker rattling hard core psych rock of the day. Can you just imagine? I thought my eyes were going to pop out of my head and I smiled like an idiot for days. I think I actually might invented air guitar because of this song...
Yeah, it still fit on a 45, which was great marketing on their part, but you can bet your ass that the next time I got my sweaty little hands on four dollars, their LP, "Vincebus Eruptum" graced my mono phonograph until I wore the grooves out.
I had sort of an on-again, off-again girlfriend at fifteen (a wild ass fifteen year old hippie in the making, who's waist length flaming red hair earned her the nickname Bloodworm, but that's a whole 'nother story...), but I threw her under the bus, and spent my time blowing out my hearing with Blue Cheer and any other psych rock pioneers I could find. The mold was cast, my musical journey was off in a whole new direction and I have Jonathon Schwartz to thank in part for the path I tread today and the delights he shared with me on the Frequency Modulation band he set flight through the air of those long gone days of mine...

* I have to say that, unlike all of my friends, all of my parents friends and all but one of my relatives, I was raised on a steady diet of jazz, be-bob, swing and big band, along with classical and other generally non-popular music of the day by my musically adventurous parents, who really planted the seeds of my musical garden. Thanks, Gert and Jack. You have no idea what you've done for me...

** Not only was the tag "loudest band in the world" grabbed by Spinal Tap, they also look curiously like Blue Cheer, ya think? I think that's cool, actually, sort of like silently paying homage to their fictional roots.

Footnote: I must admit that, once the initial furor of the musical assault of America by the British bands died down, I got awfully tired of The Beatles and The Rolling Stones and their ilk. I really didn't listen to that sort of rock much until I heard The Beatles "Revolver". Even my parents developed quite an affinity for them after they heard that effort, and my mother made it a point to make sure I had a copy of "Sgt. Pepper's" the very first day it came out. That's parenting for you, eh?

spew accordingly below...

2010-05-01T15:27:00.004-04:00

It's Prog Rock Saturday Night..!
You're going to be hearing a few of my favorite pieces from Yes over the next few weeks. My youngest daughter and I are going to see them in June, with special guest Peter Frampton!
Here's my second favorite Yes song, recorded live in 2003 at Montreaux, "And You And I". I have to admit, I can't listen to this without getting a leaky face, for reasons I'd rather not get into, but suffice it to say that it means a lot to me...
I hope you enjoy it.

spew accordingly below...

2010-05-01T15:09:00.002-04:00

121...
HOORAY, HOORAY !
THE FIRST OF MAY !
OUTDOOR F**CKING
STARTS TODAY !!!

spew accordingly below...

2010-05-01T06:35:00.001-04:00

Saturday's Goth Girl...

spew accordingly below...