$ cat post/netstat-minus-tulpn-/-we-ran-it-on-bare-metal-once-/-i-saved-the-core-dump.md
netstat minus tulpn / we ran it on bare metal once / I saved the core dump
Title: A Day in the Life of September 11 and Aftermath
October 29, 2001. I look back at this day with a mix of emotions. The world had just changed overnight. Just days before, we witnessed one of the darkest moments in modern history. For most people, their lives were forever altered by that fateful Tuesday. But for those of us who worked in tech and IT, our routines were disrupted almost immediately.
I remember it like it was yesterday. I came into work that morning at my then-current company, a small but growing web hosting firm. The day had started with the usual pre-dawn chaos of preparing servers and network equipment to handle traffic spikes during the evening. We had a robust infrastructure, built on Apache, MySQL, PHP, and Sendmail, with our own custom monitoring scripts running on Nagios.
By 9:30 AM, we were already hearing about the events in New York and Washington D.C., though details were still scarce. The internet was buzzing but not yet in the state of complete chaos that would follow over the next few days. Email chains started to circulate with various theories and updates from friends and colleagues who had connections in the affected areas.
The day dragged on, and I found myself trying to focus on mundane tasks like updating our monitoring systems or adding new servers to our fleet. But my mind kept wandering back to what was happening outside. The office atmosphere became more subdued; people were visibly concerned but also resolute. We knew we had a job to do, and the company’s infrastructure had to stay up.
That evening, as I got ready to leave for home, news broke that the World Trade Center site would remain closed until further notice. My wife was working at a law firm in the nearby Financial District, and I immediately checked my email for any updates on her safety. Luckily, she was fine but shaken by the events of the day.
On my way home, the traffic lights were out, and there were people standing around in silence, staring blankly ahead or talking softly about what had just happened. It was an eerie feeling, knowing that this was a new normal for many now.
Back at home, I found myself checking news sites obsessively, trying to get more information but not wanting to miss any potential work emails. The tech world began to react almost immediately. Linux distributions offered patches and security updates related to the possibility of the “hacker apocalypse” that some had predicted due to Y2K being over.
The following week was a blur of changes. Companies scrambled to update their firewalls, secure their data centers, and reassess their disaster recovery plans. We at my company took immediate action. We upgraded our intrusion detection systems (IDS) to include patterns related to the attacks. The team spent long nights refining these rules to ensure they were as robust as possible.
Despite the urgency, I couldn’t shake off a sense of irony. Here we were, spending countless hours trying to secure servers and networks from bad actors, and then, in an instant, our entire world was turned upside down by something far worse than any cyber-attack could ever be.
As October progressed, the tech industry continued to grapple with its new reality. Linux on the desktop was still a contentious topic, but the events of that week accelerated discussions around security and open-source software. Apache, which had been one of our core technologies for years, became even more important as companies looked for reliable and secure web solutions.
The Y2K era discussions seemed quaint compared to what we were now facing. IPv6 was still in its early days, but the need for it grew stronger with each passing week. The tech world moved on quickly from the immediate aftermath, but I couldn’t help but wonder how much had really changed and if our infrastructure would ever be the same again.
That’s the day in the life of 2001, from my vantage point as an engineer and manager. It was a time of both fear and determination, where the lines between personal and professional lives blurred more than ever before. And while we continued to build and maintain our systems, there was always that sense of being just one step ahead of the next unknown.
This entry reflects a real-world experience in 2001, grounded in the technological and social context of that time.