More on Saxophone Double-Tonguing

Lately, during the parts of my practice sessions that I devote to double-tonguing, I’ve noticed a change. The technique is becoming smoother, the notes more connected and better sounding. I’m now double-tonguing scales, licks, and patterns in sixteenth notes with increasing comfort and accuracy throughout the full range of my saxophone at a tempo up to 140 mm. While I may not make any great gains in speed anytime soon, I can definitely tell the difference in accuracy and quality of sound since my last post on double-tonguing.

What is making the difference? Several things, I think.

* A responsive reed. I’ve found that having the right reed makes a big difference in how well I’m able to execute double-tonguing. A reed that combines instant responsiveness with just enough resistance to be lively–the kind of crisp, richly resonant reed that is a joy to play–is also the ideal reed for double-tonguing. Reeds that are too hard get balky in double-tonguing, and reeds that are too soft have their intonation issues amplified.

For most playing demands, I can get by with a fairly broad spectrum of reeds, but double-tonguing seems to be a finickier technique in that regard.

* Reversing the double-tongue syllable order. Instead of playing “da-ga-da-ga,” I’ll do some exercises using single tones as well as scales starting with the glottal articulation first, thus: “ga-da-ga-da.” I also practice articulation using my glottis only: “ga-ga-ga-ga.” My aim is to develop the response in the back of my throat.

This approach really helps! Try it yourself. Warm up with a minute or two of these glottal exercises, then shift to the standard double-tonguing pattern, “da-ga-da-ga,” and see whether you don’t notice an improvement.

* As an adjunct to the preceding point, practice all of the above articulations without your horn. See how fast you can do them, and pay attention to any subtle changes you’re making as you build up speed. I use this “dry firing” approach when I’m driving in my car. What better way to put my drive time to good use?

* Practice. That’s right–practice. There’s no magical secret for learning double-tonguing. One simply has to stick with it. As I do so, I’m finding that my embouchure, oral chamber, tongue, and air stream are intuitively making the adjustments they need to make. Also, as I work at connecting double-tonguing with scales and licks, my fingering technique is becoming cleaner. It has to in order to link up precisely with the rapid articulation of double-tonguing.

I’m at a point now where this technique is becoming a functional part of my playing. Not that I use it often, but I am using it more frequently in a variety of applications with increasing success.

An article by the Peabody Institute states that “a fast single tongue can articulate sixteenth notes at quarter note equals 152. Some people can even reach speeds of up to 168 for brief periods. The double tongue can achieve speeds as high as of 232!”

Hmmm…okay. My own single-tonguing is by no means up to to the speed of these racehorses. Of course, I haven’t really worked at it, but according to the article, some saxophonists can single-tongue faster than I can presently double-tongue. That’s fine with me. I’m not out to win any speed contests, just grow as a player. My guess is that most saxophonists who read this article and my other articles on double-tonguing are more daunted by than adept at the technique, so I figured I would share my personal journey as I took on the challenge of learning it.

The Peabody article also says, “The double tonguing technique is a natural technique that is actually simple to learn and master. A few weeks of hard work can produce remarkable results.”

That has not been my experience. Of course, I’m not a Peabody student under the tutelage of a master saxophone professor. I’m a self-didact guided by no instructor other than my own instincts. I will say that at the very beginning, double-tonguing indeed came to me with ridiculous ease, and right out of the gate I was executing sixteenth notes like machine gun fire. Then I put the horn in my mouth, and suddenly it all fell apart. I was left with the realization that the technique was going to take work, patience, and dogged persistence.

Today, not quite a year later, I can tell you that the persistence pays off. Whether I’ll ever be able to double-tongue sixteenth notes at 232 mm, or even 200, only time will tell. What’s certain for now is that this technique which can seem so formidable and frustrating at the beginning is one that a saxophonist can actually acquire and use with increasing mastery. If I can pull it off, so can you. You just have to make up your mind that you’re going to do it–and then follow through with patience and consistency.

This Week: Gig and Recording Project

I’m pleased to say that all the time I’ve been spending these days practicing my saxophone is going to get some practical application. This week Thursday, October 7, I’ll be playing with keyboardist Paul Lesinski at The Seasonal Grille in downtown Hastings, Michigan. Then Saturday, I’ll be getting together for a recording project over at Tallmadge Mill studios west of Grand Rapids.

THURSDAY’S GIG: October 7, the town of Hastings is promoting a Ladies’ Night on the Town. With The Seasonal Grille offering a combination of wonderful ambiance, superb Italian cuisine at eminently affordable prices, and a good selection of wines and beers, I’m sure the place will be doing a thriving business. I’m pleased to be providing the music there with Paul. Come on out and get a mouthful, an earful, and a beerful!

Place: The Seasonal Grille

Address: 150 W. State Street in downtown Hastings, Michigan

Phone: (269) 948-9222

Time: 6:00-9:00 p.m.

SATURDAY RECORDING SESSION: I’m really excited about this! The guys I’m getting together with are some of my musical heroes. Ric Troll, owner of Tallmadge Mill Studio and organizer of the get-together, is not only an extremely tasty drummer, and more recently a guitarist, but also a wonderful composer. Anything I could say about him would be too little, and that goes for the rest of the guys as well. Randy Marsh, Kurt Ellenberger, and Dave DeVos are not merely superb players, they’re also fantastic, complete musicians, widely known and respected in West Michigan. I’m thrilled that I’ll be playing some original music with them this weekend. Look for cuts from the session here on Stormhorn.com in the future as they become available.

That’s the news for now. It’s late and I’m tired. Time to call it a night.

No Second Season? Please Say It Ain’t So!

I’d been looking forward to the shift in weather with fall’s arrival, but now that autumn is officially here,  I dunno, boys and girls. I’m beginning to suspect that the mythical “second season” may not materialize for storm chasers this year–not in the Great Lakes, anyway. You folks out west will no doubt get your little romp, but up here in the tundra land of Michigan instability appears to be a thing of the past. I have to remind myself that it’s been only a week since one heck of a squall line blew through and caused extensive tree damage in my area. A couple of days later, though, as the system lifted out of the region, the moisture gave way to the relentlessly dry, crystal-blue skies of autumn, and I have the unsettling feeling that the die has been cast for the remainder of the year.

Today’s 4-8 day outlook from the SPC doesn’t make me feel any better about our immediate prospects:

 VALID 021200Z - 071200Z

   ...DISCUSSION...
   MODELS ARE IN GOOD AGREEMENT WITH THE PATTERN EVOLUTION THROUGH
   ABOUT SUN/D5 WITH LARGE TROUGH AMPLIFYING ACROSS THE GREAT LAKES AND
   ERN STATES AND AN UPPER RIDGE OVER THE ROCKIES. THIS PATTERN WILL
   RESULT IN A LACK OF INSTABILITY E OF THE ROCKIES WITH HIGH PRESSURE
   AT THE SURFACE. 

   WHILE THE TROUGH IS FORECAST TO LINGER IN SOME FORM OVER THE ERN
   CONUS...THERE IS MUCH DIFFERENCE ASSOCIATED WITH THE BREAKDOWN OF
   THE RIDGE AS A NEW TROUGH AFFECTS EITHER THE PACIFIC NW/GFS
   SOLUTION/ OR THE ENTIRE W COAST/ECMWF SOLUTION/.  REGARDLESS...THERE
   IS LITTLE CHANCE OF SEVERE WEATHER GIVEN MEAGER MOISTURE AND
   INSTABILITY.

   ..JEWELL.. 09/29/2010

“Lack of instability..little chance of severe weather…meager moisture…”–mmmph, doesn’t sound very promising, does it? I console myself with the thought that autumn has barely begun, and a nice fetch of moisture can still come chugging northward on the leading edge of some great dynamics to make life interesting. It happened as late as November 10, 2002, in Van Wert, Ohio. It happened just three years ago on October 18, 2007, across the Midwest, including here in Michigan. So my rule of thumb is, don’t pack away the laptop until the snows fly.

Still, as daytime temperatures retreat into the mid 60s and dewpoints drop to 50 degrees and below, it’s kind of hard to believe that the end of the parade isn’t long gone, and that last week’s wind event wasn’t just the cleanup crew. Good thing that this season’s “Storm Chasers” series will be airing soon and letting us all relive the glory days of 2010. After that, though…man, it sure is a long stretch from here to next March.

The Giraffe Test: You Only Fail If You Pass It

No doubt you, like 99 percent of the civilized world, have taken the Giraffe Test. So you’re well aware that…

What, you say you haven’t taken the test? Mercy me. We need to get you up to snuff, then, because this thing is important. Purportedly devised by Anderson Consulting, the Giraffe Test measures various of your abilities to reason in a way that allows you to function on a level above, say, protoplasm.

But not so fast. My friend Pat Bowman emailed the test to me a few days ago, and having taken it, I’ve concluded that the test itself suffers from a few gaps in logic. In fact, whoever designed the Giraffe Test is–I shall put this delicately–crazy.

Below is the test. After the answer provided for each of the four questions, you’ll find my own response, which I think is a bit more real-world than the one furnished by the test developer.

THE GIRAFFE TEST

First Question: How do you put a giraffe  into a refrigerator?

Stop and think about it and decide on your answer before you scroll down.

Now scroll down

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[Note: Don’t you find this scroll-down business annoying as hell?]

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The correct answer is: Open the refrigerator, put in the giraffe, and close the  door. This question tests whether you tend to do simple things in an overly complicated way.

My Response: You’ve got to be kidding. WROOOONG! Wrong, wrong, wrong! We are talking about a freeking giraffe here, not a jar of mayonnaise. So unless your refrigerator is the size of a giraffe, you haven’t got just a major project on your hands, you’ve got an impossible one. Unless, of course, you kill and butcher the giraffe, in which case, still, no way are you ever going to pack all that meat into your standard refrigerator. Even if you’ve got a honking huge freezer chest, you’d better have lots of friends and family whose mouths water for giraffe, because you’re going to be giving plenty of it away.

Just for chuckles, though, let’s say you actually own a fridge that will accommodate a live giraffe–a fridge twenty-one feet tall, fifteen feet wide, and eight feet deep, sitting out there on the back forty next to your meth lab. Do you seriously think that a creature as big as a giraffe is going to willingly comply with being stuffed inside a cold, dark, airtight container? At the very least, you’re going to need a tranquilizer gun, plenty of helpers, protective gear to go around, and all the equipment necessary to implement successful giraffe refrigeration. And by the way, have you got a permit for that giraffe? The US Department of Agriculture will take a dim view of your activities if you don’t.

The so-called “correct answer” reveals the test developer’s tendency to hugely oversimplify complex issues. Whoever came up with that response is clearly in middle management.

Next Question: How do you put an elephant into a refrigerator?

Did you say, Open the refrigerator, put in the elephant, and close the  refrigerator?

Wrong Answer.

Correct Answer: Open the  refrigerator, take out the giraffe, put in the elephant and  close the door. This tests your ability to think through the  repercussions of your previous actions.

My Response: Okay, I’ll play along. And nope, Right Answer. It was a different refrigerator. For this task, I had to go out and purchase one the size of an elephant. The question actually reveals the test designer’s failure to think through the repercussions of his or her lack of specificity regarding the respondent’s refrigeration options.

Third Question: The Lion King is hosting an animal conference. All the animals attend–except one. Which animal does not attend?

Correct Answer: The Elephant. The elephant is in the refrigerator. You just put him in there. This tests your memory.

Okay, even if you did not answer the first three questions correctly, you still have one more chance to show your true abilities.

My Response: Wrong again. I let the elephant out. He was going utterly berserk in the refrigerator. What did the test designer expect–that the elephant would just sit there and placidly suffocate to death while the Lion King organized his little fete? I’d have had to to deliver the carcass to the conference on a flatbed truck.

The last I saw of the the elephant, he was heading into the forest and presumably arrived at the meeting intact and on time. The correct answer, then, is that none of the animals is missing from the Lion King’s … omigod, the giraffe. I don’t even want to look.

Moving on, this test has one last opportunity to demonstrate some semblance of sanity. Let’s see how it fares with …

The Final Question:

There is a river you must cross, but it is used by crocodiles and you do not have a boat. How do you manage it?

Correct Answer: You jump into the river and swim across. Have you not been listening? All the crocodiles are attending the Animal Meeting.

This tests whether you learn quickly from your mistakes.

My Response: Is there something wrong with simply walking across the bridge like I did? The “Correct Answer” reveals the test designer’s tendency to overlook the obvious, and thus, to do simple things in an overly complicated way.

According to Anderson Consulting  Worldwide, around 90% of the professionals they tested got all questions wrong, but many preschoolers got several correct answers. Anderson Consulting says this conclusively disproves the theory that most professionals have the brains of a  four-year-old.

Send this out to frustrate your smart friends.

Or, alternatively, send this article to the smarty-pants at Anderson Consulting, who have demonstrated that, unlike most professionals, they obviously do possess the brains of a four-year-old.

A Real Michigan Squall Line

Man, what a great storm we got last night here in Caledonia! Though actually, I can’t say exactly how it was in Caledonia because I was in my car tracking with the squall line, belting eastward down 100th St in a frenzied attempt to catch up with and outpace the gust front.

I didn’t succeed. Just west of Alden Nash Avenue, a large tree blocked both lanes of the road. Pulling into a driveway, I phoned in a report to KGRR, then managed to squeeze around the treetop and continue on.

Just south of Alto on Alden Nash, traffic was stopped where another large tree had fallen. I turned around and headed east on 76th St only to encounter yet another good sized tree lying on the road. I slid past this one as well, and then, after phoning in another report, completed the big block back into Alto and fueled up at the gas station.

At this point, I had my buddy Bill Oosterbaan on the phone. He was down in Tennessee, but he was following the storm on radar. Since I was chasing sans laptop, I wondered where the line was now located. With I-96 just a couple miles north of me, I had a half-cocked notion that I might still have a chance of catching up with the front of the storm once I hit the Interstate. But Bill informed me that the storm was already halfway to Lansing.

No real surprise there, but nevertheless, nuts. End of chase. Still, there was plenty of lightning crawling the clouds to enjoy. So with my fuel tank replenished, I caught 68th St east and soon found myself once again having to grease my way past a downed tree. Nasty, scraping sound–ugh!

My thoughts turned to Ben Holcomb. Oh, he’d be having a picnic with this system, I thought. Why he ever left this storm chaser’s paradise called Michigan for Oklahoma City I’ll just never understand. Might as well rub some salt into the wound. So I gave him a call, and he told me that he, like Bill, had been tracking the storm front on radar. He informed me that he’d observed base level winds of 88.5 knots on GR2AE. Over 100 mph! Zounds! That, if you please, is one sweet little zephyr. I doubt winds reached quite that speed anywhere on the ground, but we most certainly got one heck of a blow. I’ve encountered my share of trees blocking roads, but I’ve never had my progress consistently blocked by them. Driving through the Alto area last night was like navigating a maze and hitting dead end after dead end.

More weather is on the way later today as a warm front lifts north through Michigan. With 0-6km shear around 55 knots forecast, things could once again get interesting.

Now Available: Bass Clef Edition of “The Giant Steps Scratch Pad”

A few minutes ago I completed the last of the downloads, filled in the information fields, and then, with one final click of the mouse, published the bass clef edition of “The Giant Steps Scratch Pad.”

At last! I can finally say that I’ve accomplished the goals I set for this book as it evolved from my initial concept to something considerably more ambitious. The “Scratch Pad” is now available in all four editions: C, Bb, Eb, and bass clef.

So, trombonists, bass players, tuba players, and–well, have I missed anyone?–whoever else lives and moves in the bass clef universe, here is the practice resource for Coltrane changes that you’ve been hoping for, pining for, craving with all the intensity of your bass clef hearts. All kidding aside, if you’re at a stage of development on your instrument where you want to tackle the challenge of “Giant Steps,” this book is for you. It’s made for the woodshed and will help you build formidable chops for John Coltrane’s rite-of-passage tune.

Instant PDF download, $9.50
C edition Add to Cart
Bb edition Add to Cart
Eb edition Add to Cart
Bass clef edition Add to Cart
View Cart

Print editions–retail quality with full-color cover, $10.95 plus shipping: order here.

Voice Leading for the Giant Steps Cycle

Both in print and on the Internet, there’s no paucity of theoretical material available when it comes to “Giant Steps” and Coltrane changes. Of course, theoretical knowledge can’t take the place of time in the woodshed hashing out the changes on your instrument. But it can help you make some sense of what you’re practicing by revealing the order in what can at first seem like an odd, rambling array of chords. Once you understand some of the voice leading in “Giant Steps,” you’ll be able to pinpoint certain guide tones and use them effectively in your solos.

This post is by no means intended to offer an in-depth explication of “Giant Steps” theory. All I’m going to do is call your attention to how a few select tones proceed, so you can be mindful of them for the reason I’ve just stated. Let’s begin by naming the changes to the first four bars of section A in “Giant Steps.” In concert pitch, they are: Bmaj7 D7 / Gmaj7 Bb7 / Ebmaj7 / A-7 D7.

The second four bars repeats that chord progression a major third lower, thus: GMaj7 Bb7 / Ebmaj7 F#7 / Bmaj7 / F-7 Bb7.

If you delete the last two bars in each four-bar phrase and crunch together the remaining chords, you get the following sequence: Bmaj7 D7 / Gmaj7 Bb7 / Ebmaj7 F#7. This is the essential Giant Steps cycle. As you can see, once you reach the end of the cycle it repeats itself as the F#7 resolves downward by a fifth to the Bmaj7.

So far, so good. Now let’s see what happens when we start moving some basic chord tones. We’ll start with the root of the Bmaj7 chord. If you move it down by a whole step, you wind up on the note A, which functions as the fifth of the next chord, the D7. Move A down another whole step and you land on the root of  Gmaj7. Continuing down by whole steps in this manner–in other words, moving down the B whole tone scale–will move you from root to fifth to root to fifth through the entire Giant Steps cycle.

You can also apply the same down-by-major-second movement starting on the fifth of the Bmaj7, which is F#. In this case, the fifth moves down a whole step to E, which functions as the ninth of the D7 chord. (You could also look at it as the fifth of an A minor chord that serves as the ii/V7 to the D7.) This note in turn moves downward to the fifth of the Gmaj7. Again you’re descending through a whole tone scale, this one beginning on the fifth of the Bmaj7.

So if you want a handy memory aid to help you organize your guide tones in the Giant Steps cycle, simply think of two whole tone scales (using half notes to match the harmonic rhythm), one descending from the root and the other from the fifth of the Bmaj7 chord.

When you spotlight the third of the major seventh chords, things get more interesting. The third of the Bmaj7 is D#. Moving down a half step lands you on the note D, which is the root of the D7. To get from there to the third of the next chord, Gmaj7, you have to jump down a minor third. When you extend this downward movement of half step/minor third throughout the entire cycle, you wind up with an augmented scale.

You also get an augmented scale when you use the same movement starting on the seventh of the Bmaj7 chord, thus: A#, A / F#, F / D, C#.

To recap:

* For voice leading from the root and fifth of the major chords in “Giant Steps,” consider using, respectively, the B and F# whole tone scales.

* For voice leading from the third and seventh, use the D# and A# descending augmented scales.

I hope these concepts will help you see the symmetry in Coltrane changes and make life easier for you as a result. If you want a resource you can take into the practice room with you to help you master “Giant Steps,” check out my book The Giant Steps Scratch Pad. It’s available in C, Bb, Eb, and bass clef editions. See below for ordering info.

Happy practicing! Oh, and be sure to visit my jazz page for plenty more tips, solo transcriptions, exercises, and articles of interest to jazz musicians.

The Giant Steps Scratch Pad

.
Instant PDF download, $9.50
C edition Add to Cart
Bb edition Add to Cart
Eb edition Add to Cart
Bass clef edition Add to Cart
View Cart

Print editions–retail quality with full-color cover, $12.95 plus shipping: order here.

Augmented Scale Pattern by Minor Thirds

The exercise on this page forms the basis of several patterns I’ve been using to develop facility with the augmented scale. Click on the image to enlarge it.

In each bar, the scale root moves up by a minor third. In other words, the pattern takes you through four different augmented scales that outline a diminished seventh chord with their roots, thus:  C, Eb, F#, and A. Of course, you should transpose this exercise so that you also begin the pattern on C#, D, and Eb. After that, you wind up repeating material you’ve already practiced.  That’s one of the nice things about this exercise–there are only four patterns to learn!

So how do you use this pattern? You can find your own answers to that question, but here are a few thoughts:

* The best use is probably static chords, either minor or altered dominant.

* The pattern also implies a cycle of fifths with a chord change at every measure. I won’t delve into why this is so, but if you do your own analysis, you’ll see for yourself why this pattern accommodates both the cycle of fifths and tritone substitutions moving down by half-step.

The unique sound of the augmented scale offers plenty of color, and the fact that it fits no commonly used chord perfectly makes it an interesting choice for many chords as a temporary device. This pattern will help get your fingers used to moving the augmented scale through changing tone centers. Work hard, experiment, and have fun!

Be sure to check out my jazz page, featuring lots of other exercises, practice tips, insights, and solo transcriptions.

Shake It Up, Baby!

“…Uh, huh! Twist and shooouuuut! C’mon, c’mon, c’mon baaybee! Let it all”…er, hi there! Didn’t know anyone was listening to me sing.

Heh, well, then…as long as you’re here, let’s go back to that first line of the tune:

“Shake it up baaybeee!”

Are you shakin’ it up?

I don’t mean on the dance floor, I mean in your sax practice. If your sessions in the woodshed are starting to seem a bit stale, maybe it’s time you shook up your routine with the injection of some new material. Really, you should always be working on something new, not just perfecting what you already know.

It may be the introduction of a new pattern or lick. It could be a new tune, or a memorized solo that you’re taking to a different key. Whatever it is you choose, tackling new material will sharpen your mental edge and pay dividends in your technique.

So don’t be afraid to shake it up. Yes, you want to polish up the stuff you’re presently working on, and of course you want to revisit older material to maintain it. But it’s important to challenge yourself with an influx of fresh ideas. How often? That’s up to you. There’s a point at which new material is no longer new. You may not have honed it to perfection, but you’ve basically got it down. It’s time to cast your eyes on something else and move what you’ve been working on to the latter part of your practice session. Sure, you can warm up with familiar material, but then move on to newer stuff. Doing so will not only broaden your horizons, but also feed into the things you’ve been working on. And it will ensure that a year from now, you’ve got a year’s worth of woodshedding under your belt, not just a week’s worth times fifty-two.

Remembering September 11, 2001

On this rainy September afternoon, a departure from the normal focus of Stormhorn.com on jazz saxophone and storm chasing is appropriate. Nine years ago today, the weather was quite different from this present, somber overcast. Here in Michigan the skies were that crisp, crackling blue you get as autumn moves in. It was beautiful in New York City, too–a cloudless morning except for the thick, hot plume boiling out of the Twin Towers and spreading a pall of shock, horror, grief, fear, and anger across our nation.

Like any American old enough to watch and absorb the breaking news that day, I have my personal memories of September 11, 2001. I was sitting in my cubicle at Zondervan Publishing House when an email circulated from one of the employees saying that a plane had flown into the World Trade Center and that the aftermath looked terrible.

“How tragic!” I thought, not realizing that “tragic” barely qualified as an understatement for the holocaust that was beginning to unfold. I envisioned an accident involving a small, twin-engined private plane, not a commercial jet used as a missile by terrorists. Not until another email arrived announcing that the second tower had just been hit did I realize something much bigger was afoot. How big I still didn’t know, and even as I began to find out, I had a hard time wrapping my mind around the enormity of what was happening in Lower Manhattan.

Downstairs in the atrium, I joined a large group of employees who stood, transfixed, around a large television. Work? Who could work, and what manager would require us to? Together we watched incredulously as the towers burned. We gasped as first the South Tower collapsed, and then the North. “All those people!” sobbed one woman. I didn’t weep; the images on the TV screen seemed surreal to me, beyond emotion. I felt no sorrow, just disbelief and a kind of stunned, sick hollowness in my gut.

That day, over 2,500 people who entered the Twin Towers on what seemed like any other workday lost their lives. Heroes emerged in a moment of time–brave, ordinary firemen rising to the occasion, saving lives at the cost of their own when the steel girders buckled and the buildings plunged. And as that ghastly drama played out in New York, another jet crashed into the Pentagon and yet another fell from the sky in Pennsylvania.

How does one respond to so defining a moment in the history of our nation? How should one feel, what does one do, when an ordinary day becomes a day of infamy engineered by demon-possessed religious zealots? In my case, like others at Zondervan and across America, I labored through the rest of my workday in a state of numbness that made it impossible to accomplish anything, and then headed home.

Afterward, I headed to the weekly meeting of my Vineyard church home group. On the way, I drove past two women out for an evening jog. There they were, running down the sidewalk, talking and laughing as they ran, exactly as if nothing extraordinary had transpired during the course of their day.

How, I wondered, could they laugh? Evil had descended upon our country, an outrage whose aftershocks had not even begun to be felt. How could two people act so cavalierly, as if life simply goes on?

Of course I was making snap judgments based on fleeting input. I had no idea what was actually going through those womens’ minds or what the day had been like for them. In any case, each of us processes crisis differently, and there’s no manual for human behavior on a day such as 9/11. The fact is, life does go on because it must, benumbed and forever altered but moving forward nonetheless.

The ability for individual Americans to laugh and proceed with their day-to-day affairs, even as we grieved as a nation, was perhaps the most immediate victory we could enjoy–a proclamation to those monsters masquerading as men that yes, you’ve hurt us, but by the grace of God, you will never, ever subdue us.

To those who lost their lives nine years ago today: We will never forget.

To the selfless firemen, policemen, and other public servants who bought their badges of heroism at the ultimate personal cost: We thank you for your sacrifice and honor your deathless deeds.

To those whose hearts still ache over the loss of their loved ones in the tragedy of September 11, 2001: May God comfort you.

To all my countrymen who read these words: Let us always remember. And let us live our lives as the priceless gifts from God that they are, with purpose, integrity, freedom, charity, and an eye on blessing others. Perhaps the best way to honor those who died on 9/11 is to do what we can, in small ways or in great, to make our own lives count for something bigger than ourselves.

–Bob