CKNW Editorial
for September 19, 2001

Today some rambling thoughts about the past 8 days.

I demonstrated to myself on September 11 just how inadequate I was, to put it crudely, in separating the pepper from the fly shit. I came into the studio hopping mad that the Lions Gate Bridge had not opened in time for me and that I had to fight my way through the traffic down the "cut" and over the Second Narrows. I shouted a couple of expletives, to be met by stares of disbelief ... not at me but at what had just appeared, unbeknownst to me, on their TV monitors. I felt, justifiably, like a fool. And I vowed to do a better job of prioritizing my emotions.

I watched, starting with my show that morning, the galvanizing of the news department and the talk shows on CKNW. I saw people who often quarreled over guests, with the coverage being given by the news room, and various other ongoing aggravations that happen in a media environment, suddenly a news team. It started with me ... the Rafe Mair Show became, for the moment, the Philip Till show with Rafe tagging along. My ego was bruised - especially when Tom Mark kept throwing the show back to Philip and Rafe instead of the other way around but not for a moment did I think it should be done any differently. When you are reporting a crisis situation you go with your strengths and when it comes to the Middle East and terrorism generally Philip is world class ... and I found that as the show progressed I thought what a privilege it is to have Phil with us.

I remember Friday, the day of mourning. I was going to watch President Bush instead of Jean Chretien and Adrian Clarkson ... who, I was afraid, would make us all look like fools. But Dallas came in and gently suggested that I really ought to watch the Canadian proceedings ... and she was right ... and we watched them together. alone in the studio as Prime Minister Chretien did a magnificent job and made us both proud to be Canadians ... and I remember that 3 minutes with the tears rolling down both our faces and thinking how, stubborn damned fool as I often can be, I might have missed this terribly sad but important moment.

I remember on Saturday afternoon when I was asked to do a bit with John McComb. I had just come off my treadmill where I had been watching CNN and had learned for the first time that - and I use the title with  difficulty - the Reverends Pat Robertson and Jerry Falwell had said that because of her sinning and condoning sin, the United States had got what was coming to it ... or words to that effect. I was livid! When I came on with John I did what all hosts hate ... instead of listening to John's question, which was about Canada's response to all this, I answered  the question I would have preferred ... and occupied my time giving a sound badmouthing of the two reverend gentlemen. John and I had a good chuckle about it on Monday.

I remember Sunday morning at Church. The day before I had suggested to our priest that O God Our Help In Ages Past was what Anglicans would want to hear ... he had, as I should have known, already written that into the service. Later that day I was speaking to a fellow parishioner about the prayer she was going to lead the next day and I remarked that it would be wonderful, a catharsis, if one of the hymns was The Battle Hymn of the Republic. Sunday morning when I saw the lineup - if that's what you call the schedule of events for the service - that wonderful, stirring hymn wasn't there ... yet when he announced the recessional hymn, there it was ...  Lou had changed it to the Battle Hymn of The Republic ... and there wasn't a dry eye in the house when the last chorus of Glory, Glory Hallelujahs was sung.

The suggestion had been relayed, evidently, and our priest, The Venerable Lou Rivers, sensing as priests must, the mood of his flock made the last minute change which, combined with his marvelously sensitive and comforting sermon, made the service one none of us will ever forget. I remember having feelings of immense surprise - and gratitude - as I saw President Bush recover from a shaky start and become a man I didn't think he was. Then I listened, as the week went by, worrying that his rhetoric would raise expectations beyond the reasonable. I wondered how Al Gore would have handled it all.

I remember the House of Representatives spontaneously breaking into God Bless America ... with the burning image of two women representatives, one black and the other white, embracing as they sang.

Most of all during the past week I remember the countless times a new feeling of revulsion, horror, pity, and unbelievable sadness came over me. It was almost as if my mind was telling me, from time to time, out of the blue, that I had a lot more yet to grieve for. It seemed that just as I had buried my emotions an inner voice would say "Rafe, there's a lot more thinking and grieving to do yet".

And I recall how over and over Wendy and I tried to deal with this dreadful crime and not really be able to come to grips with it because of its enormity.

September 11 was the day that changed the world ... of that there can be no doubt.