LaurieGarrett.com

DAY THIRTY TWO:

Oct. 12:

It's been a bone-chiller of a day, as the whackos of the world have decided to go beyond hoaxes, sending bona fide anthrax to news organizations. It remained a mere story for me until midday when one of the world's top security experts said, "Are you taking precautions? I mean you're a royal pain in the ass, Laurie, but Judy Miller, Laurie Garrett, who else would they target first?" He then suggested I only open my mail while wearing a charcoal filter mask and gloves.

It is, then, fortunate I guess that I am not in New York City today, and haven't opened my mail for a few days. It has all now been sequestered, and nobody is handling letters of packages addressed to me. On the one han I find it a bit absurd to think that the sorts of SOBs responsible for these threats would know of Newsday or BETRAYAL OF TRUST. And fo other reasons I hav avoided appearing on countless TV talk shows. In the last two weks Miller, in contrast, has been on nearly every national news show and that undoubtedly made her a likely target.

On the other hand, why not? When the words of warning came my way I recognized a certain logic there, and suddenly this terrorism became very personal, indeed.

So now I'm really ticked off. Now these whacko, psycho little men who get off on making people tremble with fear have made me really damned mad.

There is no connection between these domestic anthrax events and Osma bin Laden: I am convinced of that. The sorts of little people who are exploiting our nation's time of great fear, sowing still more intimidation and panic, are akin to the loser young men who get off on standing on a hilltop, watching firefighters and screaming families respond to the flames they ignited with their evil arson. It's a twisted reach for empowerment.

Of course we went through this in the first 48 hours after Th Catastrophe of September 11, when hundreds of psychologically disturbed individuals called in bomb threats all over Ne York City, getting thrills out of heightening the already feverish fear in Gotham. In 1999 there was an epidemic of anthrax hoaxes called in nationwide, sparked by men -- they were all men -- who enjoyed watching on TV the special hazardous materials squads sweep in, dressed in moon suits, and evacuate hundreds of terrified people.

It's quite a diferent thing to carry out this thrill using real anthrax, however. So now they have really pissed me off.

Tonight I adrressed another group of students and community mmbers, this time a community college group in Tacoma. It was night and day compared to the University of Washington event the previous day. Poorly attended, in an auditorium that must have ben designed by a lunatic, this was an event for local woking people, many of whom no doubt face layoffs with the impending Boeing cutbacks. The auditorium was acoustically so poorly designed that every word I said echoed back at me with a microsecond delay, so that I had to speak for an hour copting against my own feedback. Worse, there were no dimmers on the lights, only all-or-nothing lighting. In order for the audience to see the slides, I had to stan in pitch darkness, unable to see my notes. A kind audience mmber passed up a pen-lite, which I used to spot data I'd not memorized in my notes.

I was exhausted. Traffic in the Seattle area is so terrible it's hard to understand why people live here: it took two an a half hours for the car to get me from downtown Seattle to Tacoma, a distance of 46 miles. Before I even got in the car for that lousy ride the tensions of the day, including filing two stories for Newsday, had taken a toll. In the car I called a dear friend in Brooklyn who informed me that she and her husband had decided they couldn't take it any more: they are moving out of New York. I felt a dark cloud of depression sweep over me as I hung up my cell phone.

It's all too damned close to home.

And so it i a bit ironic that I am 3000 miles away, but today the events of the past month feel more personal in some ways than they have in many days.

Be well. Be safe. Stand defiant.
Laurie Garrett

PS Despite its reputation as the digital capital of the world, Seattle's phone lines failed completely to support my laptop access to Email. I was unable to transmit this missive until Oct. 13. Sorry.



DAY THIRTY TWO: Return to Index Oct. 12: It's been a bone-chiller of a day, as the whackos of the world have decided to go beyond hoaxes, sending bona fide anthrax to news organizations. It remained a mere story for me until midday when one of the world's top security experts said, "Are you taking precautions? I mean you're a royal pain in the ass, Laurie, but Judy Miller, Laurie Garrett, who else would they target first?" He then suggested I only open my mail while wearing a charcoal filter mask and gloves. It is, then, fortunate I guess that I am not in New York City today, and haven't opened my mail for a few days. It has all now been sequestered, and nobody is handling letters of packages addressed to me. On the one han I find it a bit absurd to think that the sorts of SOBs responsible for these threats would know of Newsday or BETRAYAL OF TRUST. And fo other reasons I hav avoided appearing on countless TV talk shows. In the last two weks Miller, in contrast, has been on nearly every national news show and that undoubtedly made her a likely target. On the other hand, why not? When the words of warning came my way I recognized a certain logic there, and suddenly this terrorism became very personal, indeed. So now I'm really ticked off. Now these whacko, psycho little men who get off on making people tremble with fear have made me really damned mad. There is no connection between these domestic anthrax events and Osma bin Laden: I am convinced of that. The sorts of little people who are exploiting our nation's time of great fear, sowing still more intimidation and panic, are akin to the loser young men who get off on standing on a hilltop, watching firefighters and screaming families respond to the flames they ignited with their evil arson. It's a twisted reach for empowerment. Of course we went through this in the first 48 hours after Th Catastrophe of September 11, when hundreds of psychologically disturbed individuals called in bomb threats all over Ne York City, getting thrills out of heightening the already feverish fear in Gotham. In 1999 there was an epidemic of anthrax hoaxes called in nationwide, sparked by men -- they were all men -- who enjoyed watching on TV the special hazardous materials squads sweep in, dressed in moon suits, and evacuate hundreds of terrified people. It's quite a diferent thing to carry out this thrill using real anthrax, however. So now they have really pissed me off. Tonight I adrressed another group of students and community mmbers, this time a community college group in Tacoma. It was night and day compared to the University of Washington event the previous day. Poorly attended, in an auditorium that must have ben designed by a lunatic, this was an event for local woking people, many of whom no doubt face layoffs with the impending Boeing cutbacks. The auditorium was acoustically so poorly designed that every word I said echoed back at me with a microsecond delay, so that I had to speak for an hour copting against my own feedback. Worse, there were no dimmers on the lights, only all-or-nothing lighting. In order for the audience to see the slides, I had to stan in pitch darkness, unable to see my notes. A kind audience mmber passed up a pen-lite, which I used to spot data I'd not memorized in my notes. I was exhausted. Traffic in the Seattle area is so terrible it's hard to understand why people live here: it took two an a half hours for the car to get me from downtown Seattle to Tacoma, a distance of 46 miles. Before I even got in the car for that lousy ride the tensions of the day, including filing two stories for Newsday, had taken a toll. In the car I called a dear friend in Brooklyn who informed me that she and her husband had decided they couldn't take it any more: they are moving out of New York. I felt a dark cloud of depression sweep over me as I hung up my cell phone. It's all too damned close to home. And so it i a bit ironic that I am 3000 miles away, but today the events of the past month feel more personal in some ways than they have in many days. Be well. Be safe. Stand defiant. Laurie Garrett PS Despite its reputation as the digital capital of the world, Seattle's phone lines failed completely to support my laptop access to Email. I was unable to transmit this missive until Oct. 13. Sorry.