sigp220.45
US Veteran
I'll start.
I was gassing up at the west end Town Pump in Cut Bank, Montana, about to head into my little office on the Blackfeet Indian Reservation.
I heard the first reports on the radio in my rig. We didn't have a TV in the office then, so I went to the tribal PD dispatch in Browning.
As it slowly dawned what was really happening, I felt like I needed to do something. I don't think you can get culturally farther away from Manhattan than Browning, Montana, but there was a sense of were all in this together that day.
I went to a little border crossing on the rez. Its a one man post, and the Customs guy there was a good dude. Word had gotten out that the border was going to be closed, and all the Americans in Canada were trying to get across before it happened. Canucks on our side were doing the same thing. Somebody had told the Customs guy to do 100 percent inspections on incoming and outgoing, which was an actual impossibility for one guy. He had traffic backed up for miles in each direction.
I spent the day searching cars, and I found not a single Al Qaeda coming or going.
When they let planes fly again a week or so later I got a frantic call to go to Cut Bank International Airport, which was a landing strip and nothing else. A plane had crossed the border without a flight plan and the FAA told it to land or an F-15 would land it over several square miles. We rolled up as it was stopping - a nice private jet. We pointed MP5s at it, and the pilot opened the door. It was Tim McGraw's plane, but he and his hot wife weren't on it. They were in Canada when the towers fell, and took a bus home. We poked through their undies and sent the plane on its way.
How about you?
I was gassing up at the west end Town Pump in Cut Bank, Montana, about to head into my little office on the Blackfeet Indian Reservation.
I heard the first reports on the radio in my rig. We didn't have a TV in the office then, so I went to the tribal PD dispatch in Browning.
As it slowly dawned what was really happening, I felt like I needed to do something. I don't think you can get culturally farther away from Manhattan than Browning, Montana, but there was a sense of were all in this together that day.
I went to a little border crossing on the rez. Its a one man post, and the Customs guy there was a good dude. Word had gotten out that the border was going to be closed, and all the Americans in Canada were trying to get across before it happened. Canucks on our side were doing the same thing. Somebody had told the Customs guy to do 100 percent inspections on incoming and outgoing, which was an actual impossibility for one guy. He had traffic backed up for miles in each direction.
I spent the day searching cars, and I found not a single Al Qaeda coming or going.
When they let planes fly again a week or so later I got a frantic call to go to Cut Bank International Airport, which was a landing strip and nothing else. A plane had crossed the border without a flight plan and the FAA told it to land or an F-15 would land it over several square miles. We rolled up as it was stopping - a nice private jet. We pointed MP5s at it, and the pilot opened the door. It was Tim McGraw's plane, but he and his hot wife weren't on it. They were in Canada when the towers fell, and took a bus home. We poked through their undies and sent the plane on its way.
How about you?