Slachtoffers terreuraanvallen VS
11 september 2001 - 11 september 2001
Laat uw steunbetuiging achter voor de nabestaanden van de slachtoffers van de terreuraanvallen op de Verenigde Staten.
Vermoedelijk duizenden mensen verloren het leven bij de vliegtuigaanslagen op het World Trade Center in New York en het Pentagon in Washington. Daarnaast zijn enkele honderden slachtoffers gevallen bij de crash van een vierde gekaapt vliegtuig in Pennsylvania.
Het online condoleanceregister voor de slachtoffers van de terreuraanvallen in de Verenigde Staten is vrijdag 28 september 2001 aangeboden aan de waarnemend ambassadeur van de Amerikaanse Ambassade in Den Haag. Uit veiligheidsoverwegingen mogen we daar op dit moment geen foto's van laten zien. Mogelijk verschijnen deze later op de site na toestemming van het ambassadepersoneel.
Vermoedelijk duizenden mensen verloren het leven bij de vliegtuigaanslagen op het World Trade Center in New York en het Pentagon in Washington. Daarnaast zijn enkele honderden slachtoffers gevallen bij de crash van een vierde gekaapt vliegtuig in Pennsylvania.
Het online condoleanceregister voor de slachtoffers van de terreuraanvallen in de Verenigde Staten is vrijdag 28 september 2001 aangeboden aan de waarnemend ambassadeur van de Amerikaanse Ambassade in Den Haag. Uit veiligheidsoverwegingen mogen we daar op dit moment geen foto's van laten zien. Mogelijk verschijnen deze later op de site na toestemming van het ambassadepersoneel.
Ash Wednesday, by T.S. Eliot
I.
Because I do not hope to turn again
Because I do not hope
Because I do not hope to turn
Desiring this man's gift and that man's scope
I no longer strive to strive towards such things
(Why should the aged eagle stretch its wings?)
Why should I mourn
The vanished power of the usual reign?
Because I do not hope to know again
The infirm glory of the positive hour
Because I do not think
Because I know I shall not know
The one veritable transitory power
Because I cannot drink
There, where trees flower, and springs flow, for there is nothing again
Because I know that time is always time
And place is always and only place
And what is actual is actual only for one time
And only for one place
I rejoice that things are as they are and
I renounce the blessed face
And renounce the voice
Because I cannot hope to turn again
Consequently I rejoice, having to construct something
Upon which to rejoice
And pray to God to have mercy upon us
And pray that I may forget
These matters that with myself I too much discuss
Too much explain
Because I do not hope to turn again
Let these words answer
For what is done, not to be done again
May the judgement not be too heavy upon us
Because these wings are no longer wings to fly
But merely vans to beat the air
The air which is now thoroughly small and dry
Smaller and dryer than the will
Teach us to care and not to care
Teach us to sit still.
Pray for us sinners now and at the hour of our death
Pray for us now and at the hour of our death.
II
Lady, three white leopards sat under a juniper-tree
In the cool of the day, having fed to sateity
On my legs my heart my liver and that which had been contained
In the hollow round of my skull. And God said
Shall these bones live? shall these
Bones live? And that which had been contained
In the bones (which were already dry) said chirping:
Because of the goodness of this Lady
And because of her loveliness, and because
She honours the Virgin in meditation,
We shine with brightness. And I who am here dissembled
Proffer my deeds to oblivion, and my love
To the posterity of the desert and the fruit of the gourd.
It is this which recovers
My guts the strings of my eyes and the indigestible portions
Which the leopards reject. The Lady is withdrawn
In a white gown, to contemplation, in a white gown.
Let the whiteness of bones atone to forgetfulness.
There is no life in them. As I am forgotten
And would be forgotten, so I would forget
Thus devoted, concentrated in purpose. And God said
Prophesy to the wind, to the wind only for only
The wind will listen. And the bones sang chirping
With the burden of the grasshopper, saying
Lady of silences
Calm and distressed
Torn and most whole
Rose of memory
Rose of forgetfulness
Exhausted and life-giving
Worried reposeful
The single Rose
Is now the Garden
Where all loves end
Terminate torment
Of love unsatisfied
The greater torment
Of love satisfied
End of the endless
Journey to no end
Conclusion of all that
Is inconclusible
Speech without word and
Word of no speech
Grace to the Mother
For the Garden
Where all love ends.
Under a juniper-tree the bones sang, scattered and shining
We are glad to be scattered, we did little good to each other,
Under a tree in the cool of the day, with the blessing of sand,
Forgetting themselves and each other, united
In the quiet of the desert. This is the land which ye
Shall divide by lot. And neither division nor unity
Matters. This is the land. We have our inheritance.
III
At the first turning of the second stair
I turned and saw below
The same shape twisted on the banister
Under the vapour in the fetid air
Struggling with the devil of the stairs who wears
The deceitul face of hope and of despair.
At the second turning of the second stair
I left them twisting, turning below;
There were no more faces and the stair was dark,
Damp, jagged, like an old man's mouth drivelling, beyond repair,
Or the toothed gullet of an aged shark.
At the first turning of the third stair
Was a slotted window bellied like the figs's fruit
And beyond the hawthorn blossom and a pasture scene
The broadbacked figure drest in blue and green
Enchanted the maytime with an antique flute.
Blown hair is sweet, brown hair over the mouth blown,
Lilac and brown hair;
Distraction, music of the flute, stops and steps of the mind over the third stair,
Fading, fading; strength beyond hope and despair
Climbing the third stair.
Lord, I am not worthy
Lord, I am not worthy
but speak the word only.
IV
Who walked between the violet and the violet
Who walked between
The various ranks of varied green
Going in white and blue, in Mary's colour,
Talking of trivial things
In ignorance and knowledge of eternal dolour
Who moved among the others as they walked,
Who then made strong the fountains and made fresh the springs
Made cool the dry rock and made firm the sand
In blue of larkspur, blue of Mary's colour,
Sovegna vos
Here are the years that walk between, bearing
Away the fiddles and the flutes, restoring
One who moves in the time between sleep and waking, wearing
White light folded, sheathing about her, folded.
The new years walk, restoring
Through a bright cloud of tears, the years, restoring
With a new verse the ancient rhyme. Redeem
The time. Redeem
The unread vision in the higher dream
While jewelled unicorns draw by the gilded hearse.
The silent sister veiled in white and blue
Between the yews, behind the garden god,
Whose flute is breathless, bent her head and signed but spoke no word
But the fountain sprang up and the bird sang down
Redeem the time, redeem the dream
The token of the word unheard, unspoken
Till the wind shake a thousand whispers from the yew
And after this our exile
V
If the lost word is lost, if the spent word is spent
If the unheard, unspoken
Word is unspoken, unheard;
Still is the unspoken word, the Word unheard,
The Word without a word, the Word within
The world and for the world;
And the light shone in darkness and
Against the Word the unstilled world still whirled
About the centre of the silent Word.
O my people, what have I done unto thee.
Where shall the word be found, where will the word
Resound? Not here, there is not enough silence
Not on the sea or on the islands, not
On the mainland, in the desert or the rain land,
For those who walk in darkness
Both in the day time and in the night time
The right time and the right place are not here
No place of grace for those who avoid the face
No time to rejoice for those who walk among noise and deny the voice
Will the veiled sister pray for
Those who walk in darkness, who chose thee and oppose thee,
Those who are torn on the horn between season and season, time and time, between
Hour and hour, word and word, power and power, those who wait
In darkness? Will the veiled sister pray
For children at the gate
Who will not go away and cannot pray:
Pray for those who chose and oppose
O my people, what have I done unto thee.
Will the veiled sister between the slender
Yew trees pray for those who offend her
And are terrified and cannot surrender
And affirm before the world and deny between the rocks
In the last desert before the last blue rocks
The desert in the garden the garden in the desert
Of drouth, spitting from the mouth the withered apple-seed.
O my people.
VI
Although I do not hope to turn again
Although I do not hope
Although I do not hope to turn
Wavering between the profit and the loss
In this brief transit where the dreams cross
The dreamcrossed twilight between birth and dying
(Bless me father) though I do not wish to wish these things
From the wide window towards the granite shore
The white sails still fly seaward, seaward flying
Unbroken wings
And the lost heart stiffens and rejoices
In the lost lilac and the lost sea voices
And the weak spirit quickens to rebel
For the bent golden-rod and the lost sea smell
Quickens to recover
The cry of quail and the whirling plover
And the blind eye creates
The empty forms between the ivory gates
And smell renews the salt savour of the sandy earth This is the time of tension between dying and birth The place of solitude where three dreams cross Between blue rocks But when the voices shaken from the yew-tree drift away Let the other yew be shaken and reply.
Blessed sister, holy mother, spirit of the fountain, spirit of the garden,
Suffer us not to mock ourselves with falsehood
Teach us to care and not to care
Teach us to sit still
Even among these rocks,
Our peace in His will
And even among these rocks
Sister, mother
And spirit of the river, spirit of the sea,
Suffer me not to be separated
And let my cry come unto Thee.
I.
Because I do not hope to turn again
Because I do not hope
Because I do not hope to turn
Desiring this man's gift and that man's scope
I no longer strive to strive towards such things
(Why should the aged eagle stretch its wings?)
Why should I mourn
The vanished power of the usual reign?
Because I do not hope to know again
The infirm glory of the positive hour
Because I do not think
Because I know I shall not know
The one veritable transitory power
Because I cannot drink
There, where trees flower, and springs flow, for there is nothing again
Because I know that time is always time
And place is always and only place
And what is actual is actual only for one time
And only for one place
I rejoice that things are as they are and
I renounce the blessed face
And renounce the voice
Because I cannot hope to turn again
Consequently I rejoice, having to construct something
Upon which to rejoice
And pray to God to have mercy upon us
And pray that I may forget
These matters that with myself I too much discuss
Too much explain
Because I do not hope to turn again
Let these words answer
For what is done, not to be done again
May the judgement not be too heavy upon us
Because these wings are no longer wings to fly
But merely vans to beat the air
The air which is now thoroughly small and dry
Smaller and dryer than the will
Teach us to care and not to care
Teach us to sit still.
Pray for us sinners now and at the hour of our death
Pray for us now and at the hour of our death.
II
Lady, three white leopards sat under a juniper-tree
In the cool of the day, having fed to sateity
On my legs my heart my liver and that which had been contained
In the hollow round of my skull. And God said
Shall these bones live? shall these
Bones live? And that which had been contained
In the bones (which were already dry) said chirping:
Because of the goodness of this Lady
And because of her loveliness, and because
She honours the Virgin in meditation,
We shine with brightness. And I who am here dissembled
Proffer my deeds to oblivion, and my love
To the posterity of the desert and the fruit of the gourd.
It is this which recovers
My guts the strings of my eyes and the indigestible portions
Which the leopards reject. The Lady is withdrawn
In a white gown, to contemplation, in a white gown.
Let the whiteness of bones atone to forgetfulness.
There is no life in them. As I am forgotten
And would be forgotten, so I would forget
Thus devoted, concentrated in purpose. And God said
Prophesy to the wind, to the wind only for only
The wind will listen. And the bones sang chirping
With the burden of the grasshopper, saying
Lady of silences
Calm and distressed
Torn and most whole
Rose of memory
Rose of forgetfulness
Exhausted and life-giving
Worried reposeful
The single Rose
Is now the Garden
Where all loves end
Terminate torment
Of love unsatisfied
The greater torment
Of love satisfied
End of the endless
Journey to no end
Conclusion of all that
Is inconclusible
Speech without word and
Word of no speech
Grace to the Mother
For the Garden
Where all love ends.
Under a juniper-tree the bones sang, scattered and shining
We are glad to be scattered, we did little good to each other,
Under a tree in the cool of the day, with the blessing of sand,
Forgetting themselves and each other, united
In the quiet of the desert. This is the land which ye
Shall divide by lot. And neither division nor unity
Matters. This is the land. We have our inheritance.
III
At the first turning of the second stair
I turned and saw below
The same shape twisted on the banister
Under the vapour in the fetid air
Struggling with the devil of the stairs who wears
The deceitul face of hope and of despair.
At the second turning of the second stair
I left them twisting, turning below;
There were no more faces and the stair was dark,
Damp, jagged, like an old man's mouth drivelling, beyond repair,
Or the toothed gullet of an aged shark.
At the first turning of the third stair
Was a slotted window bellied like the figs's fruit
And beyond the hawthorn blossom and a pasture scene
The broadbacked figure drest in blue and green
Enchanted the maytime with an antique flute.
Blown hair is sweet, brown hair over the mouth blown,
Lilac and brown hair;
Distraction, music of the flute, stops and steps of the mind over the third stair,
Fading, fading; strength beyond hope and despair
Climbing the third stair.
Lord, I am not worthy
Lord, I am not worthy
but speak the word only.
IV
Who walked between the violet and the violet
Who walked between
The various ranks of varied green
Going in white and blue, in Mary's colour,
Talking of trivial things
In ignorance and knowledge of eternal dolour
Who moved among the others as they walked,
Who then made strong the fountains and made fresh the springs
Made cool the dry rock and made firm the sand
In blue of larkspur, blue of Mary's colour,
Sovegna vos
Here are the years that walk between, bearing
Away the fiddles and the flutes, restoring
One who moves in the time between sleep and waking, wearing
White light folded, sheathing about her, folded.
The new years walk, restoring
Through a bright cloud of tears, the years, restoring
With a new verse the ancient rhyme. Redeem
The time. Redeem
The unread vision in the higher dream
While jewelled unicorns draw by the gilded hearse.
The silent sister veiled in white and blue
Between the yews, behind the garden god,
Whose flute is breathless, bent her head and signed but spoke no word
But the fountain sprang up and the bird sang down
Redeem the time, redeem the dream
The token of the word unheard, unspoken
Till the wind shake a thousand whispers from the yew
And after this our exile
V
If the lost word is lost, if the spent word is spent
If the unheard, unspoken
Word is unspoken, unheard;
Still is the unspoken word, the Word unheard,
The Word without a word, the Word within
The world and for the world;
And the light shone in darkness and
Against the Word the unstilled world still whirled
About the centre of the silent Word.
O my people, what have I done unto thee.
Where shall the word be found, where will the word
Resound? Not here, there is not enough silence
Not on the sea or on the islands, not
On the mainland, in the desert or the rain land,
For those who walk in darkness
Both in the day time and in the night time
The right time and the right place are not here
No place of grace for those who avoid the face
No time to rejoice for those who walk among noise and deny the voice
Will the veiled sister pray for
Those who walk in darkness, who chose thee and oppose thee,
Those who are torn on the horn between season and season, time and time, between
Hour and hour, word and word, power and power, those who wait
In darkness? Will the veiled sister pray
For children at the gate
Who will not go away and cannot pray:
Pray for those who chose and oppose
O my people, what have I done unto thee.
Will the veiled sister between the slender
Yew trees pray for those who offend her
And are terrified and cannot surrender
And affirm before the world and deny between the rocks
In the last desert before the last blue rocks
The desert in the garden the garden in the desert
Of drouth, spitting from the mouth the withered apple-seed.
O my people.
VI
Although I do not hope to turn again
Although I do not hope
Although I do not hope to turn
Wavering between the profit and the loss
In this brief transit where the dreams cross
The dreamcrossed twilight between birth and dying
(Bless me father) though I do not wish to wish these things
From the wide window towards the granite shore
The white sails still fly seaward, seaward flying
Unbroken wings
And the lost heart stiffens and rejoices
In the lost lilac and the lost sea voices
And the weak spirit quickens to rebel
For the bent golden-rod and the lost sea smell
Quickens to recover
The cry of quail and the whirling plover
And the blind eye creates
The empty forms between the ivory gates
And smell renews the salt savour of the sandy earth This is the time of tension between dying and birth The place of solitude where three dreams cross Between blue rocks But when the voices shaken from the yew-tree drift away Let the other yew be shaken and reply.
Blessed sister, holy mother, spirit of the fountain, spirit of the garden,
Suffer us not to mock ourselves with falsehood
Teach us to care and not to care
Teach us to sit still
Even among these rocks,
Our peace in His will
And even among these rocks
Sister, mother
And spirit of the river, spirit of the sea,
Suffer me not to be separated
And let my cry come unto Thee.
Op 13 september 2001
om 17:45 getekend door:
B.o.b. .E.l.b.r.a.c.h.t.
Dit is niet ok
om 17:45 getekend door:
B.o.b. .E.l.b.r.a.c.h.t.
iedereen heel veel sterkte toegewenst
in deze moeilijke en vooral onzekere tijd
in deze moeilijke en vooral onzekere tijd
Op 13 september 2001
om 17:45 getekend door:
a.s.t.r.i.d. .h.e.r.z.i.g.
Dit is niet ok
om 17:45 getekend door:
a.s.t.r.i.d. .h.e.r.z.i.g.
Mijn gedachten zijn steeds bij deze verschrikkelijke gebeurtenis. Ik wens alle nabestaanden en hulpverleners alle kracht toe die zij nodig hebben om vanaf nu weer verder te gaan.
Op 13 september 2001
om 17:44 getekend door:
J.e.s.s.i.k.a.
Dit is niet ok
om 17:44 getekend door:
J.e.s.s.i.k.a.
Wat een verschrikkelijk dag; 11 september 2001 zal altijd in mijn geheugen staan als de dag waarop een vreselijk laffe terroristische aanslag werd gepleegd waarbij duizenden mensen om het leven zijn gekomen. Mijn gedachten zijn bij de slachtoffers en hun nabestaanden. Laat het morgen om 12.00 3 minuten stil zijn in heel Nederland.
YOU WILL NEVER WALK ALONE
Rust zacht...
YOU WILL NEVER WALK ALONE
Rust zacht...
Op 13 september 2001
om 17:44 getekend door:
I.v.o. .R.a.e.s.
Dit is niet ok
om 17:44 getekend door:
I.v.o. .R.a.e.s.
dit is te erg,voor woorden,waarom moest dit gebeuren,vraag ik me af, ik wens iedereen,veel sterkte en kracht toe in deze zware tijden,ik vindt dit heel erg en vele met mij
Op 13 september 2001
om 17:44 getekend door:
m.o.n.i.k.a.
Dit is niet ok
om 17:44 getekend door:
m.o.n.i.k.a.
Mijn medeleven gaat uit naar de nabestaanden van de onschuldige slachtoffers en zij die nog in onzekerheid zijn over het lot van hun geliefden. Veel sterkte toegewenst.
Op 13 september 2001
om 17:43 getekend door:
P.a.u.l. .P.e.s.m.a.n.
Dit is niet ok
om 17:43 getekend door:
P.a.u.l. .P.e.s.m.a.n.
Op 13 september 2001
om 17:43 getekend door:
A.b.d.e.l.m.a.j.i.d.
Dit is niet ok
om 17:43 getekend door:
A.b.d.e.l.m.a.j.i.d.
I wish everyone in America the best of luck. I was shocked to hear about what happened in the USA. I hope and pray nothing like this will ever happen again. My thoughts are with relatives and friends of the victims, and with those who are still searching for their loved ones.
Op 13 september 2001
om 17:43 getekend door:
M.a.r.j.a. .J.a.n.s.s.e.n.
Dit is niet ok
om 17:43 getekend door:
M.a.r.j.a. .J.a.n.s.s.e.n.
Onvoorstelbaar wat zelfmoordcommando's kunnen aanrichten. Wij zijn als Nederlanders
uiteraard solidair met het Amerikaanse volk, zoals zij steeds met ons solidair waren, laten wij dat vooral ook niet vergeten.
uiteraard solidair met het Amerikaanse volk, zoals zij steeds met ons solidair waren, laten wij dat vooral ook niet vergeten.
Op 13 september 2001
om 17:43 getekend door:
I.g.n.a.c.e. .O.f.f.e.r.m.a.n.s.
Dit is niet ok
om 17:43 getekend door:
I.g.n.a.c.e. .O.f.f.e.r.m.a.n.s.
Wat er in Amerika is gebeurd is onbegrijpelijk daar zijn geen woorden voor. Ik wil alle slachtoffers,de nabestaanden en betrokkenen alle hoop en warmte sturen.
Het is niet veel wat ik kan doen, maar dit is toch iets!ALL MY LOVE!!!FREEDOM!!
Het is niet veel wat ik kan doen, maar dit is toch iets!ALL MY LOVE!!!FREEDOM!!
Op 13 september 2001
om 17:41 getekend door:
A.n.g.e.l.a.
Dit is niet ok
om 17:41 getekend door:
A.n.g.e.l.a.
Hier zijn geen woorden vor. Wat een verschrikkelijke laffe daad. Mijn gedachten gaan uit naar alle gewonden en nabestaanden, dat zij de kracht mogen vinden dit te kunnen doorstaan.
God bless you and the US.
God bless you and the US.
Op 13 september 2001
om 17:40 getekend door:
Y.o.l.a.n.d.a.
Dit is niet ok
om 17:40 getekend door:
Y.o.l.a.n.d.a.
Words cannot express...My heart goes out to all the victims and their families and to the whole American nation. I am deeply shocked by this horrific event and I still don't understand: why?
America will never be the same again...
Alixe, 25, Rotterdam, Holland
America will never be the same again...
Alixe, 25, Rotterdam, Holland
Op 13 september 2001
om 17:40 getekend door:
A.l.i.x.e.
Dit is niet ok
om 17:40 getekend door:
A.l.i.x.e.
Hier zijn geen woorden voor dat dit heeft kunnen gebeuren.wij leven hier vanuit veendam heel erg met de getroffen mensen mee.Ook morgen zal onze school 3 minuten stil zijn om even stil te staan met wat daar gebeurt.
ook hangt er in Veendam morgen een vlag halfstok.Heel veel sterkte daar .
ook hangt er in Veendam morgen een vlag halfstok.Heel veel sterkte daar .
Op 13 september 2001
om 17:40 getekend door:
h.e.n.n.y. .k.a.l.d.i.j.k.
Dit is niet ok
om 17:40 getekend door:
h.e.n.n.y. .k.a.l.d.i.j.k.
Geen woorden voor...
Op 13 september 2001
om 17:37 getekend door:
J.a.n. .D.e.r.k. .R.e.m.m.e.r.s.
Dit is niet ok
om 17:37 getekend door:
J.a.n. .D.e.r.k. .R.e.m.m.e.r.s.
Geen woorden voor zo'n infame terreurdaad.
We leven mee met de slachtoffers en nabestaanden en betuigen ons diepe meeleven met hen.
We bidden voor troost voor hen en voor bescherming en kracht voor de hulpverleners, de regering en de plaatselijke autoriteiten.
We leven mee met de slachtoffers en nabestaanden en betuigen ons diepe meeleven met hen.
We bidden voor troost voor hen en voor bescherming en kracht voor de hulpverleners, de regering en de plaatselijke autoriteiten.
Op 13 september 2001
om 17:37 getekend door:
J.o.k.e. .e.n. .F.r.a.n.s. .R.o.e.l.o.f.s.e.n.
Dit is niet ok
om 17:37 getekend door:
J.o.k.e. .e.n. .F.r.a.n.s. .R.o.e.l.o.f.s.e.n.
Oneindig veel sterkte en kracht toegewenst aan alle nabestaanden van de slachtoffers, erg veel wijsheid aan de wereldleiders en wat betreft de daders en hun aanhangers: ik heb medelijden met jullie omdat jullie absoluut geen besef hebben van de waarde van het leven en geen respect hebben voor anderen. Wat hebben jullie hier eigenlijk te zoeken op aarde??
Op 13 september 2001
om 17:35 getekend door:
R.e.i.n.i.e.r. .E.t.i.e.n.n.e.
Dit is niet ok
om 17:35 getekend door:
R.e.i.n.i.e.r. .E.t.i.e.n.n.e.
We are deeply shocked about what happened to your country.
We write this with a lot of sadness in our harts.
We hope and pray that you will have and receive the power to solve all problems.
In our harts and in our heads we are with you.
May GOD Bless all of you and your country.
Sietske & Rudy Roussou
Purmerend, Holland
We write this with a lot of sadness in our harts.
We hope and pray that you will have and receive the power to solve all problems.
In our harts and in our heads we are with you.
May GOD Bless all of you and your country.
Sietske & Rudy Roussou
Purmerend, Holland
Op 13 september 2001
om 17:35 getekend door:
S.i.e.t.s.k.e. .&. .R.u.u.d. .R.o.u.s.s.o.u.
Dit is niet ok
om 17:35 getekend door:
S.i.e.t.s.k.e. .&. .R.u.u.d. .R.o.u.s.s.o.u.
Hier zijn geen woorden voor, maar ik wens een ieder heel veel kracht om dit zware leed te dragen
Op 13 september 2001
om 17:33 getekend door:
M.a.d.e.l.o.n.
Dit is niet ok
om 17:33 getekend door:
M.a.d.e.l.o.n.
we wensen de families van slachtoffers heel veel sterkte komende dagen!
Op 13 september 2001
om 17:32 getekend door:
f.a.m.i.l.i.e. .L.e.
Dit is niet ok
om 17:32 getekend door:
f.a.m.i.l.i.e. .L.e.
Wat bezielt een mens om tot zo'n laffe en vreselijke daad te komen?
Zoveel onschuldige slachtoffers die de dood hebben gevonden.
Ik wens alle nabestaanden en andere betrokkenen heel veel sterkte toe in de moeilijke tijd die nu zal komen.
Zoveel onschuldige slachtoffers die de dood hebben gevonden.
Ik wens alle nabestaanden en andere betrokkenen heel veel sterkte toe in de moeilijke tijd die nu zal komen.
Op 13 september 2001
om 17:31 getekend door:
M.a.r.k. .v...d... .L.e.i.j.g.r.a.a.f.
Dit is niet ok
om 17:31 getekend door:
M.a.r.k. .v...d... .L.e.i.j.g.r.a.a.f.
Voor dit register is het helaas niet mogelijk een boekje te maken.
Hou me op de hoogte
Wilt u op de hoogte gehouden worden als er nieuwe (nationale) registers geopend worden? Condoleance.nl biedt verschillende mogelijkheden om op de hoogte te blijven, zoals e-mail, Twitter en SMS.