Today, TCK the Blog reflects upon the events that unfolded in London one year ago
today. We invite you to join with us by posting your comments, your thoughts,
and your memories.
7 July, 2005
The Day
I woke up that morning, got some coffee, fired up the computer, stepped out to the patio for my morning cigarette, came back inside and sat down to see what the world had been doing while I was asleep and answer the morning mail. The headline leaped out of the screen and clutched at my chest with the force of a shotgun blast – Terrorists Bomb London Subway, Buses. Every other thought (including the sensible one to actually check my e-mail) left me. London had been bombed, the place that is My London in the way Los Angeles will never be My Los Angeles even though I’ve lived here my whole life. Then, a quiet, timorous voice in my head said one word…Billy (of course I was thinking in real names, but screen names have been substituted to protect the privacy of these individuals).
Billy’s in London. Where were the explosions?
Suddenly, the kinda vague-on-the-details reporting of AOL News was grossly insufficient.
Where, dammit!?!
I’m furiously pointing and clicking, the mouse controlled by shaking hands (reminder here, I should have checked e-mail first), over to the BBC, which understands London is no more a single coherent city than New York is, but a collection of neighborhoods, each different from the others…
…and there! At last! A map! Notting Hill, the home environs of one Billy Oblivion, appears to be out of harm’s way, but so many places are not. There’s King’s Cross. There’s Edgeware Road. Oh no! Liverpool Street…no! If KateCat or ChasCat were coming into London…I couldn’t finish that thought. I could barely breathe. The computer monitor blurred as tears welled in my eyes.
Finally, I did check my in-box. Of course, there was word from Billy, “Don’t go into a panic, I’m fine.” Oops. And so I spent the next day and half, sending and receiving messages consisting of “are you and yours ok?” “We’re fine, but we are still looking for Aunt Sally or Uncle Bob” and on it went. So many people were lucky that day, but many were not. Fifty-two innocent people died, 700 were injured, some in the most horrible ways imaginable. Those who escaped uninjured report they are still haunted by what they saw.
The Aftermath
It took me awhile to think about those people, especially the 52 who died, so great was my relief that no one I knew had been harmed. However, they were 52 individuals who deserve to be remembered. The BBC has a page on its website at
http://news.bbc.co.uk/1/shared/spl/hi/uk/05/london_blasts/victims/default.stm
that tells you a little something about each individual. I’m struck by their diversity -- different ages, races, backgrounds – all these different people were enemies, according to those to set off the bombs? This thought is made even scarier given that in the last year it has been established that the attackers were not “foreigners,” but instead “homegrown,” as much akin to Timothy McVeigh and Terry Nichols or Eric Harris and Dylan Klebold as Osama bin Laden.
I’ve read the profiles of most of these people in the past year, and I’d like to talk about one in particular. Colin Morley was killed at Edgeware Road. I know this place. I’ve stopped at Edgeware Road on the way to Billy’s flat and on other adventures. I never met Mr. Morley, but like the 51 other people, Mr. Morley did not deserve to die that day. I’m not singling him out because he is more deserving of remembrance than anyone else, but because had I never read about Colin Morley I wouldn’t be writing this and you wouldn’t be reading this. It was his story that resonated with me, his story that has stayed in my mind for the past year.
He used his brilliant communication skills to try to help charities and businesses understand their brand and, on a wider scale, he tried to change the world of media and marketing into a force for social good.
His latest project, called Be The Change, encourages people and organisations to find ways to improve ethically, socially, environmentally and personally. (From the BBC website)
Our Purpose:
To get the right people talking about the right issues
To cross fertilise ideas and experience
To change the way we think about issues that are not being solved at the current level of thinking
To explore the means of achieving effective systems change
To inspire us all to make it happen (From the Be The Change website at: http://www.bethechange.org.uk/)
The world needs more Colin Morleys. It could ill afford to lose this one -- anymore than it could afford the loss of the other people who died 7/7. He believed in making a difference. He believed in change, based on a wide variety of individuals working together. He shared that belief with others. Now, I share it with you today. I hope you share it with others.
Looking Back
In reflecting on events that day and immediately after, what I remember is the enduring strength and character of so many of our British friends. From Billy staying on at his office to answer phones so that everyone else could go home to the countless stories of people helping each other throughout that day -- whether it was rescuing the injured or sharing a taxi, Londoners did what they could. And they were not broken. These people who survived The Blitz and who survived IRA attacks, showed fierce determination and indomitable spirit by quietly going right on with their lives.
A year on now, through the filter of distance, I can look back on that day and see one unexpected way the world very quietly changed, and I think it’s worth mentioning. Through technology, people were striving to communicate to the world. Images came through, not the cameras of CNN, but from mobile phones. Information was being shared P-2-P -- on blogs, forums, and messageboards. Journalists couldn’t keep up with the speed of the internet. The news cycle became instantaneous, and regular people were controlling the content. It wasn’t objective nor was it detached. It was personal, meaningful, immediate, and direct. It was a sign of things to come.
Looking Ahead
A week after 7/7, the government encouraged a moment of silence as tribute to those who died, and today they are also asking for a moment of silence. I say, with all due respect to those who lost their lives and those who lost their loved ones, to hell with that. Silence is for the fearful. Silence is for the hopeless. Silence is the sound despair makes. Raise your voice today. Say loudly and firmly that the world is united against terror. Shout so it can be heard across oceans and continents that we remember and we are not afraid.
7 July, 2005
The Day
I woke up that morning, got some coffee, fired up the computer, stepped out to the patio for my morning cigarette, came back inside and sat down to see what the world had been doing while I was asleep and answer the morning mail. The headline leaped out of the screen and clutched at my chest with the force of a shotgun blast – Terrorists Bomb London Subway, Buses. Every other thought (including the sensible one to actually check my e-mail) left me. London had been bombed, the place that is My London in the way Los Angeles will never be My Los Angeles even though I’ve lived here my whole life. Then, a quiet, timorous voice in my head said one word…Billy (of course I was thinking in real names, but screen names have been substituted to protect the privacy of these individuals).
Billy’s in London. Where were the explosions?
Suddenly, the kinda vague-on-the-details reporting of AOL News was grossly insufficient.
Where, dammit!?!
I’m furiously pointing and clicking, the mouse controlled by shaking hands (reminder here, I should have checked e-mail first), over to the BBC, which understands London is no more a single coherent city than New York is, but a collection of neighborhoods, each different from the others…
…and there! At last! A map! Notting Hill, the home environs of one Billy Oblivion, appears to be out of harm’s way, but so many places are not. There’s King’s Cross. There’s Edgeware Road. Oh no! Liverpool Street…no! If KateCat or ChasCat were coming into London…I couldn’t finish that thought. I could barely breathe. The computer monitor blurred as tears welled in my eyes.
Finally, I did check my in-box. Of course, there was word from Billy, “Don’t go into a panic, I’m fine.” Oops. And so I spent the next day and half, sending and receiving messages consisting of “are you and yours ok?” “We’re fine, but we are still looking for Aunt Sally or Uncle Bob” and on it went. So many people were lucky that day, but many were not. Fifty-two innocent people died, 700 were injured, some in the most horrible ways imaginable. Those who escaped uninjured report they are still haunted by what they saw.
The Aftermath
It took me awhile to think about those people, especially the 52 who died, so great was my relief that no one I knew had been harmed. However, they were 52 individuals who deserve to be remembered. The BBC has a page on its website at
http://news.bbc.co.uk/1/shared/spl/hi/uk/05/london_blasts/victims/default.stm
that tells you a little something about each individual. I’m struck by their diversity -- different ages, races, backgrounds – all these different people were enemies, according to those to set off the bombs? This thought is made even scarier given that in the last year it has been established that the attackers were not “foreigners,” but instead “homegrown,” as much akin to Timothy McVeigh and Terry Nichols or Eric Harris and Dylan Klebold as Osama bin Laden.
I’ve read the profiles of most of these people in the past year, and I’d like to talk about one in particular. Colin Morley was killed at Edgeware Road. I know this place. I’ve stopped at Edgeware Road on the way to Billy’s flat and on other adventures. I never met Mr. Morley, but like the 51 other people, Mr. Morley did not deserve to die that day. I’m not singling him out because he is more deserving of remembrance than anyone else, but because had I never read about Colin Morley I wouldn’t be writing this and you wouldn’t be reading this. It was his story that resonated with me, his story that has stayed in my mind for the past year.
He used his brilliant communication skills to try to help charities and businesses understand their brand and, on a wider scale, he tried to change the world of media and marketing into a force for social good.
His latest project, called Be The Change, encourages people and organisations to find ways to improve ethically, socially, environmentally and personally. (From the BBC website)
Our Purpose:
To get the right people talking about the right issues
To cross fertilise ideas and experience
To change the way we think about issues that are not being solved at the current level of thinking
To explore the means of achieving effective systems change
To inspire us all to make it happen (From the Be The Change website at: http://www.bethechange.org.uk/)
The world needs more Colin Morleys. It could ill afford to lose this one -- anymore than it could afford the loss of the other people who died 7/7. He believed in making a difference. He believed in change, based on a wide variety of individuals working together. He shared that belief with others. Now, I share it with you today. I hope you share it with others.
Looking Back
In reflecting on events that day and immediately after, what I remember is the enduring strength and character of so many of our British friends. From Billy staying on at his office to answer phones so that everyone else could go home to the countless stories of people helping each other throughout that day -- whether it was rescuing the injured or sharing a taxi, Londoners did what they could. And they were not broken. These people who survived The Blitz and who survived IRA attacks, showed fierce determination and indomitable spirit by quietly going right on with their lives.
A year on now, through the filter of distance, I can look back on that day and see one unexpected way the world very quietly changed, and I think it’s worth mentioning. Through technology, people were striving to communicate to the world. Images came through, not the cameras of CNN, but from mobile phones. Information was being shared P-2-P -- on blogs, forums, and messageboards. Journalists couldn’t keep up with the speed of the internet. The news cycle became instantaneous, and regular people were controlling the content. It wasn’t objective nor was it detached. It was personal, meaningful, immediate, and direct. It was a sign of things to come.
Looking Ahead
A week after 7/7, the government encouraged a moment of silence as tribute to those who died, and today they are also asking for a moment of silence. I say, with all due respect to those who lost their lives and those who lost their loved ones, to hell with that. Silence is for the fearful. Silence is for the hopeless. Silence is the sound despair makes. Raise your voice today. Say loudly and firmly that the world is united against terror. Shout so it can be heard across oceans and continents that we remember and we are not afraid.
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