Eric Diem

[Eric Diem @EricDiem]

@BillAckman I have been following your daughters story. I have a close friend whose son went through a similar life altering event many years ago. Their story is inspiring and should provide further hope and motivation at the tough times during Lucy’s recovery. https://t.co/Xj7RNu67nG

[Eric Diem @EricDiem]

@DannyNoonanGolf LMFAO! Yes, that’s me

[Eric Diem @EricDiem]

Worth the read. Amazing story and a great testament to what a man will do for his children.

[Bob Ojeda @BobOjeda19]

This story has laid largely dormant in my mind for 25 years. Never gone, but very hard to think about the horror of that morning and I’d rather not. This is my morning of September 11, 2001.

At this point in my life, I am a pitching coach for The Brooklyn Cyclones, the Mets’ minor league baseball team. I have a sponsor’s softball game at our ballpark at 10 AM. My house in Jersey is about an hour drive away. I’m at my kitchen table having coffee, getting ready to head in at around nine. I put on the news. The traffic report mentions it’s a little heavy so I decide I’ll leave early. Just as I’m heading out the door the news breaks that a small plane appears to have hit one of the Twin Towers. I stopped to listen. The news reporter looks concerned and confused, but not panicked. It’s an unfolding moment and she’s keeping her cool. The look of disbelief was unstable; no answers, just confusion. She was trying her best, in her own way, to not create a mass panic. Whoever she was, she deserves a ton of credit, along with the other reporters who did the same thing.

I head to my car and put on 1010 WINS. I decide to head up Route 36. There is a bridge that crosses the Shrewsbury River that allows a direct view to the city. When I get there, I’m in disbelief. There is smoke coming from the top of one of the towers, yet still no panic on the radio, just reporting of what is currently known.

I call my daughter, who works in the city. I asked her where she is. She tells me she’s coming up the escalator from the bottom floors of the World Trade Center, exiting the subway. We stay on the phone. I hear the strain in her voice. Whatever has happened is not good and she is witnessing it firsthand. The radio does not betray the gravity of what happened. They are in disbelief along with all of us.

I step on the gas, and race up 36. By now I figure I’ll turn left, head into the city, pick up my daughter, and then drive on to the ballpark in Coney Island. We get cut off on the phone. The confusion on the radio continues and escalates. She calls me back a few minutes later. “Dad, I just came up the escalator and there are people jumping out of the windows, there’s people jumping out of the windows.” I ask her how high they are jumping from, trying to get a feel for what is happening. I am not ready for what she’s about to say. “80 floors.” A second plane hits the other tower. This is a nightmare, and I begin to feel panic coming up within me.

I take the Staten Island exit off of the parkway and approach the Outerbridge. I see cars stopped. Then the news comes over the radio. All bridges and tunnels are closed to the city. At the last possible moment, I turned off to the right and circled back down, heading back to my house. I’m doing over 100 miles an hour. I highly doubt a cop is going to stop me. I’m thinking, “What now?” I call my friend Lenny and say “I need your boat!” He asked me,“Where are you going?” I said, “To the city to get my daughter.” He’s well aware of what’s going on, and says, “I’m going with you.” I said, “No you’re not. I don’t know what I’m getting into. I don’t know what’s gonna happen. I don’t even know if I can get there but I have to try. I appreciate your offer, but I got it.” We plan to meet at his boat within 20 minutes. I pause going over the bridge on 36, take a look back, and it is beyond horrific. There’s people in those buildings and I hope one is not my daughter.

I call my daughter back, thank God I get a hold of her, and let her know the plans. I tell her to stay at her office. “Stay there until I get there. Stay put!” I swing by my house real quick. I have an idea I’m probably gonna need my father's flag. He was an army veteran who spent time in Iwo Jima. I plan on hanging it off the side of the little boat. Hopefully that will let the authorities know I’m on the home team. I run in the house and remove it from the triangle box in which I keep it and head down to the marina. My friend’s there and insists on going. We jump in and off we go.

Within minutes, a little comic relief. We need gas. Thankfully, there’s a fueling marina at Bahr’s Landing. We pull in. The young man working the pump was curious about where we are going. We fill up, he says good luck, and on our way. The radio is on. The news is still confusing but becoming clearer. Both towers have been hit. Both towers are on fire. We look at it. We see it in front of us, knowing we’re heading in.

I call my daughter. I tell her I should be there within a half hour, if we lose contact, I tell her to make her way down to the ferries evacuating people off the island. “Get to the top deck and look out to the open water. I’ll be in a small boat with grandpa‘s flag hanging off the side. Get to the top deck and wave and wave. If I see you, I’ll turn around and follow the boat back. If not, I’ll keep going.”

We’re a few miles out from the Verrazano Bridge. At this point, I think it’s going to be a dead end. I can’t imagine there won’t be police and Coast Guard closing off from that point. Suddenly, a small biplane with wings painted red and white appears. It is flying towards us but very erratically. I have no idea what that was about.

I have my daughter back on the phone. She finally arrived at her office on Wall Street. I tell her our ETA and then she feels something. The building shakes. “Dad, what was that?” I hear on the radio, which has made this whole scenario surreal. The radio has one report, my daughter has the live report, and we’re in the middle, trying to make sense of the whole thing…it’s impossible. You cannot make sense of this moment. I hear on the radio that the building collapsed, but I tell my daughter not to worry about it. It’s probably just all the trucks and everything rumbling around. I make up some nonsensical answer, and she was not in the mood to analyze anything. She was terrified.

Still no Coast Guard or police boats. We keep going under the bridge. Smoke billowing in front of us. The smell is unimaginable. It just smells like burning everything. It’s an acidic, rancid smell. Heartbreaking. Because I know what it is. We’re beginning to approach Governors Island. I tell Lenny to stay to the right, we’ll go around and then go straight towards Pier 11. So far, everything is going according to plan, a plan that is being made up as I go.

I’m looking at the smoke, the haze and everything and I’m in disbelief. My mind makes up that the tower is still there. “I can see the tower Lenny, can you see the tower?” “I can’t see it.” “It’s right there.” But it wasn’t there. It was gone. It was a pile of rubble. Confirmed by the papers, worksheets and everything flying through the air over our heads. Literally, pieces of paper. Pieces of paper that somebody sitting at their desk was working on an hour ago are now floating through the air, as well as the poor soul who was doing the work.

We’re around Governors Island and then, the inevitable. A small Coast Guard boat, that looks like a red inflatable boat, makes a B-line right for us. Machine gun mounted on the bow. I stand up on our bow and I’m frantically waving my father's flag that I’ve tied to the side of the boat. They come racing up in a no nonsense mood, helmets, guns, everything pointing right at us. They come right up next to our boat. “Where are you going?” “I’m going to pick up my daughter.” They turn, have a short conversation, I don’t know what’s gonna happen, then they turn back to me and say “Go ahead.” I could’ve fallen over.

I call my daughter again and thankfully get through and tell her head to the water. I’m coming up to Wall Street now. We head for the pier and pull up. lt’s kind of bouncy because of all the tugboats loading people on and getting them off the island. It was organized chaos but it was organized. I have so much respect for the men and women who handled that without panic. We pull up next to the pier. It’s about a 5- or 6-foot reach to the railing. I grab it. I’m holding on, ready to let go, throw my leg over the railing, and Lenny yells, “Don’t let go!” “Why? What’s the matter?” The engine died. This is great, I’m this close and I’m gonna fall in the water. I’m holding on with one hand on the boat and the other on the railing, being stretched like I’m in a torture device. Between the current and the bouncing, I don’t know how I stayed up. The longest 30 seconds of my life when he goes, “OK, OK. I got it.” I let go of the boat and climb over the side. I tell him to circle around right here. I’ll be back.

I begin to run up Wall Street. Unbelievably the first police officer I see on shore is from my hometown. He is directing people to the massive tugboats and the ferry boats getting people off of the island. He sees me and asks what I’m doing there. I explained to him that I’m going to get my daughter. He says good luck, I’ll see you at home.

Seconds later, strangely, an older lady comes up to me and says, “Excuse me, aren’t you Bobby O?” “Yes I am.” “Oh, I just love you. You are so fun to watch.” Then her son, who understood the gravity of the situation, says, “OK mom, come on, we gotta go.” I thanked her and her son and went on my way. Can’t make that stuff up.

I continued making my way up Wall Street. Incredibly, there’s my daughter coming down. It’s like a miracle. It’s a miracle in front of my eyes. I grab and hug her. We head back down to the water. We get to the water’s edge where the railing is, she looks down. Lenny has pulled up by then and she looks down and I said “Look, you gotta jump. There’s no other way, you’ve gotta jump.” It’s probably at least a 5-foot jump down to the deck to a bouncing boat with a wet bow being pushed around by the current and choppy water. She looks at me one last time, looks at the boat, and jumps. She lands and rolls but she is fine. I look around one last time at the surreal scene of I don’t even know what to call it. I jump down, hug my daughter again, sitting in our seats. We turn and head back down home. No one deserves this to happen to them.

This weekend, I am reminded of and send nothing but respect to the individuals, first responders, ferry and tug boat captains beside me, who organized amongst the chaos to help one another on a horrific day.

[Eric Diem @EricDiem]

@AndyGraz_19 Bullseye!

[Eric Diem @EricDiem]

@brentonhcooper Fair assessment. Same here

[Bill Ackman @BillAckman]

.@BernieSanders , it is a time to celebrate. @elonmusk has created enormous value for society by building @SpaceX, driving down the cost of rocket launches and creating a global satellite communication network that has brought high speed, low-cost internet and communication access to hundreds of millions and eventually billions of people along with critical advantages for our military and our nation’s defense.

SpaceX and its technologies will cause an acceleration in the growth of wages and wealth creation globally, including in some of the poorest communities in the U.S. and around the world.

Access to low-cost, high speed communications everywhere will allow children around the world to be educated, families to build businesses, and life-saving medical knowledge and care to be available everywhere.

SpaceX will materially bring down the cost of compute, advancing AI and humanity.

Meanwhile, 4,000 SpaceX employees yesterday became millionaires, including hourly wage employees who you claim you are trying to help.

The Elon Musks of the world drive growth, global GDP, and provide access to goods and services at lower cost that would otherwise not exist.

Elon’s nominal trillionaire status is due to his ownership of SpaceX, Tesla, Neuralink, the Boring Company and his other initiatives that have brought new technologies that improve our everyday lives.

Elon is not sitting on a trillion dollar pile of cash, jewelry and gold. He is using his controlling stakes in his companies to advance mankind. Elon’s companies don’t pay dividends. They reinvest all of their capital to accelerate innovation and value creation.

Elon is working 24/7 for all of us. He deserves respect and appreciation, not smears.

Bernie, your socialism would never allow a SpaceX to be built. Socialism has only proven to impoverish mankind and lead to death and destruction.

We need to create the conditions for more SpaceXs to be built, not attack the great entrepreneurs who are helping to advance our country.

[Eric Diem @EricDiem]

@buitengebieden Jules

[Eric Diem @EricDiem]

@bjorn825530 @BowTied_Golfer ON Long Island

[Yogi @Houseofyogi]

No Kings explained for people who think they're fighting fascism.

You're standing in a crowd on Saturday. You look around and think yeah. No Kings. This is what democracy looks like.

Bro.

You're holding a sign made by a communist billionaire who lives in Shanghai.

You live in a constitutional republic.

Elections. Term limits. A free press that spent four years calling the president a fascist without one journalist being arrested.

The modern left's definition of fascism:

You love your country? Fascist.

You want to enforce the border? Racist.

You think parents should raise their kids? Bigot.

You want to know who's voting in your elections? Jim Crow.

Being patriotic is fascism to the modern left.

But every country has borders and enforces them. 176 countries require ID to vote. That's the definition of a country.

But the Democratic establishment told you otherwise. And you believed them.

Congress has a 15% approval rating. 80% of Americans disapprove. 97% of incumbents got re-elected.

Chuck Schumer. 46 years. Longer than Stalin.

Steny Hoyer. 45 years. Longer than Mao.

Mitch McConnell. 42 years. 5x more than Napoleon.

Nancy Pelosi. 39 years. Longer than Henry VIII.

Maxine Waters. 35 years. Longer than Mussolini.

Bernie Sanders. 35 years. Triple Hitler's entire reign.

Trump. 5 years and 3 months. Won the popular vote and the electoral vote.

But Trump is the king. Okay buddy.

You don't hate kings. You hate kings that aren't yours.
And Saturday they had you in the streets carrying their water.

The Democratic Party installed a president without letting you vote. Biden quit on a Sunday. By Tuesday your queen was crowned.

No primary. No debate. No ballot. First time since 1968.

Three days before your march every Senate Democrat voted against photo ID to vote.

During COVID you carried a vaccine card everywhere like a hall pass from the government just to eat at a restaurant.

But getting a birth certificate or waiting two hours at the DMV to prove you're a citizen before you vote? That's oppression.

The Democratic Party is pro illegal immigration.

Counts non-citizens in the Census. Census determines congressional seats. More non-citizens means more seats means more power. No voter ID means no way to check.

That's how you keep power without wearing a crown.

Biden built a censorship machine.

Pressured Facebook to suppress true information and admitted it in writing. Censored scientists. Censored doctors. Censored JOKES. The Biden White House told Facebook to remove "humor and satire."

They literally went after people for making fun of them. UK does it better tho...

Everything they censored turned out to be right. They just outsourced the silencing to Silicon Valley.

And it doesn't stop at speech.

The extreme left justifies taking children from families.

Six thousand schools rewrite children's identities without telling parents. And the State has the right to intervene.

The Hitler Youth did this. Mao's Red Guards did this. The Soviets built statues of a child who reported his own father.

Same playbook.

During Covid, your bakery got shut down. Church closed. You couldn't hold your dying mother's hand at the hospital.

But thousands packed together during BLM to burn Minneapolis and THAT was essential civic engagement. Obviously.

$2 billion in damage. 25 dead. 2,000 cops injured. 20 states burning. VP Kamala promoted a bail fund for the rioters. No investigation. No hearings.

January 6. One building. Few hours. 1,000 prosecuted. Two years of televised hearings.

Kings decide which violence counts. The left decided.

Charlie Kirk spent his life walking onto campuses asking for honest debate. He was assassinated.

CSIS terrorism database. 2025 is the first year in 30 years that left-wing attacks outnumber right-wing. Yet no one brings this up.

75% of liberal students say preventing a speaker from talking is justified. 27% say violence is acceptable.

Liberals who went to Trump rallies: "I never felt unsafe." "The experience changed me."

Conservatives who show up on liberal campuses get screamed at, blocked, and assassinated.

One side talks. The other side screams.

The Party for Socialism and Liberation marched with you Saturday.

Their stated purpose in their own words: "Revolution." Not reform. Marxism.

The system that killed a hundred million people last century. They had you holding their signs while they said it out loud.

500 groups. $3 billion in revenue. Pre-printed signs. The signs were ready before you were angry.

The money leads to Neville Roy Singham. Billionaire in Shanghai. Attends CCP workshops. Funnels millions through shell companies at UPS mailboxes. Three Congressional committees have subpoenaed him as a suspected CCP foreign agent.

You thought you were fighting for democracy. You were carrying water for Beijing.

"Liberals are leaving the First Amendment behind." Spoken by the ACLU lawyer who defended Nazis in court because it was their constitutional right.

Bill Clinton put 100,000 cops on the street. Reformed welfare. Said illegal immigration is wrong to a standing ovation. Told America the era of big government is over.

Today his own party would call him a fascist.

The 1990s Democrat defended free speech for Nazis. Yours censors doctors for telling the truth.

The 1990s Democrat held open primaries. Yours installed a nominee without a vote.

The 1990s Democrat trusted parents. Yours takes their children.

Historians measure fascism across eight traits. Here's who checks the boxes in 2026:

Censorship of political opposition. Democrats.

Contempt for democratic process. Democrats.

Tolerance of political violence. Democrats.

State ideology forced on families. Democrats.

Corporate-state fusion. Democrats.

Scapegoating and manufactured enemies. Both sides.

Cult of personality. Both sides.

Ultranationalism. Republicans.

Five for the left. One for the right. Two shared.

You marched against kings on Saturday.

You marched FOR kings.

You just didn't know which was which.

Stop being gaslit.

I hope you understand what's at stake.

[Eric Diem @EricDiem]

@PGATOUR Then goes in and kicks the s$-t out of the locker room. BOO YAH

[Eric Diem @EricDiem]

@BizNasty2point0 Speaks to the lack of heart that has kept them from making it to the finals

[Derrick Evans @DerrickEvans4WV]

🚨Marc Thiessen: “If the party that unleashed the worst border crisis in American history is going to shut down the government to stop funding the department responsible for securing the border, that doesn’t seem like good politics to me.”

[🇺🇸 Bekah 🇺🇸 @bekahj]

I’m worn out hearing people moan, “Our grandparents could buy a house on one paycheck, but now we can’t even afford rent on two!”

Yeah, maybe because Grandma wasn’t dropping half her income on $14 iced lattes and avocado toast shaped like art projects. Back then, if they wanted coffee, they boiled it at home in a dented pot. It tasted like burnt rubber and regret — but it woke you up and cleaned your pipes.

And Grandma wasn’t “out to brunch.” You think she had time for mimosas and hashtags? She was making something called whatever’s left in the fridge and feeding six people with it.

Don’t even start with Uber Eats. You think Grandpa was out here paying $38 to have a burger delivered three blocks away? Please. He grilled mystery meat on a rusted barbecue, and everyone called it dinner.

Now people cry about being broke while sitting in a house full of gadgets. Two SUVs in the driveway, six streaming services, three air fryers, and matching tattoos that cost more than their light bill. You think Grandpa had a tattoo? He did. It said “Korea, 1951,” and it came with trauma, not Instagram likes.

And the kids—Lord help us. “We can’t make ends meet, but Brayden needs the new iPhone!” No, he doesn’t. You’re handing an $1100 device to a child who still eats crayons and forgets to flush.

When we were kids, there was one phone. It hung on the wall like a family relic. The cord stretched just far enough for you to whisper secrets before someone yelled, “Get off, I need to make a call!” And guess what? We lived.

The TV? One. In the living room. With three channels and a dial that clicked like a safe. And if Dad wanted to watch bowling, you were a fan of bowling, end of story.

Now there’s a flat screen in every room, the baby’s got an iPad, the dog’s got a camera, and everyone’s wondering why they can’t afford rent.
Because you’re living like rock stars on retail salaries, that’s why.

Grandpa wasn’t leasing Teslas or buying $12 smoothies called “Green Zen Awakening.” He drove a truck that coughed smoke, rattled like a storm, and smelled like oil and hard work.

They lived within their means. Whatever Grandpa brought home on Friday — that’s what they had. They weren’t keeping up with the Joneses; they were keeping the lights on.

So yeah, Grandpa bought a house on one salary. But he also didn’t have a gym membership, three delivery apps, and emotional support crystals on his nightstand. His only support system was Grandma, who told him to quit whining and mow the yard.

Nowadays, everyone’s broke, anxious, and “manifesting abundance” while ordering tacos on DoorDash for the fourth time this week.

It’s not the economy — it’s the lifestyle.

Wake up, turn off your subscriptions, make your own coffee, and maybe—just maybe—you’ll smell the truth.

Credit to original author, unknown

[Eric Diem @EricDiem]

@readswithravi John Krakauer

[Eric Diem @EricDiem]

Interesting view

[Jacco @JaccoJJB]

EUROPA EN DE SPIEGEL DIE TRUMP VOORHOUDT

Ik ben geen Trump lover. Maar ik ben ook niet blind.
Op bepaalde vlakken kan ik hem waarderen. Zijn directheid. Zijn focus op belangen. Zijn bereidheid om consequenties te verbinden aan woorden. Die waardering is geen adoratie. Het is observatie. Ik kijk daar objectief naar. Zonder rode pet. Zonder afkeer. En wat ik zie is geen Amerikaanse man die Europa bedreigt. Wat ik zie is een stel druktemakers in Den Haag en Brussel die zich bezighouden met alles behalve macht.

Europa zat aan tafel en praatte. Er lagen rapporten.
Er waren agenda’s. Er was koffie.
Aan de andere kant van de oceaan stond Trump op.
Hij keek niet naar papieren. Hij keek naar belangen. Europa sprak over waarden en idealen en multilateralisme. Trump vroeg wie betaalt en wie beschermt en wie beslist. Het bleef stil.

Wie denkt dat dit over Trump gaat begrijpt het niet.
Dit gaat over Europa. Over bestuurders die denken dat beleid gelijkstaat aan leiderschap. Die denken dat vergaderen handelen is. In Den Haag en Brussel wordt druk gedaan. Veel woorden. Veel plannen. Weinig capaciteit.
Defensie bleef achter. Industrie verdween. Energie werd een ideologisch speeltje. En ondertussen werd gehoopt dat Amerika het wel zou oplossen.

Trump legde de vinger op die zwakte. Niet subtiel.
Niet vriendelijk. Maar wel raak. Hij zei wat niemand hier durfde te zeggen. Bondgenootschap is geen liefdadigheid. Veiligheid is geen vanzelfsprekendheid.
Respect volgt op kracht en niet op goede bedoelingen.
Europa schrok. Niet van zijn toon. Maar van de waarheid die erin zat.

En nu hoor je paniek. Europa durft Trump niet tegen zich in het harnas te jagen. Niet omdat hij zo gevaarlijk is. Maar omdat hij kan doen wat hij zegt. Dat zegt alles.

De echte dreiging is niet Trump. De echte dreiging is een bestuur dat denkt dat moraal macht vervangt.
Dat denkt dat regels zichzelf handhaven. Dat denkt dat woorden genoeg zijn. Trump is geen breuk met de wereldorde. Hij is de rekening. En wie die rekening niet wil zien blijft doen alsof het diner gratis was. De wereld is harder geworden. Niet door Trump. Maar door onze illusies. Soevereiniteit is geen slogan. Het is capaciteit.

En zolang Den Haag en Brussel dat niet willen begrijpen zullen zij niet leiden maar reageren.
Op Trump vandaag en op de volgende morgen.

#Geopolitiek #MachtEnInvloed #Europa
#Trump #Soevereiniteit

[Eric Diem @EricDiem]

@RyanSaavedra Rubio is and impressive speaker, always eloquent and concise. How Brennan still has this job is beyond me. She routinely stomps her feet and acts as a petulant child when a guest represents opinions that differ from hers. A news program of this import needs better leadership.

[Eric Diem @EricDiem]

@JustinRose99 @TheMasters Well deserved Mr Rose. I have not seen a more fierce competitor in my years watching golf.

[Eric Diem @EricDiem]

@Matt_Pinner Eleanor and Elin (pronounced Eelin)

[Eric Diem @EricDiem]

@VivekGRamaswamy As usual @VivekGRamaswamy , very eloquently said. We lost a good voice for America today.

[Eric Diem @EricDiem]

@TommyFleetwood1 @PGATOUR Congrats Tommy. So happy for you! Not only did you win this week you had a great several weeks leading up to Eastlake.