September 11th
Sept 11th 2001 - I was standing in the waiting room at Walter Reed Army Medical Hospital watching in horror at the burning buildings. I hurried to my car and got onto the Washington DC beltway to head to work, calling my husband Ryan on the cell to see if he knew. He didn't and as he was stationed officially at the Pentagon, he was going to call. As we spoke, I watched a plane fly low overhead going west to east and obviously in restricted airspace. Moments later, the DJ on the radio said that the Pentagon was on fire. Trembling, I called Ryan back and then my boss...and went home. There are no words, still, for the horror of that day or the incredible heroes on or off those planes.
December of 2001 I went to NYC to visit a friend and she asked me to go with her to the site...she lost friends there and had not yet been able to handle going. I did - it was a grey, rainy day and it felt as if the city wept. The smell of death hung there like a cloud and they were still searching the rubble for bodies and clearing debris. The small church there was covered with photos and stories and people milled about in shock and disbelief. She and I stood together and wept, for those lost and for the faces of those rescue folks as they fought the cold and rain for the duty at hand. Seeing the city skyline without the towers was so strange. Seeing that crater where those buildings were was unreal. My last trip to NY, I had wandered for a hour or so in the mall underneath.
How does something as senseless as terrorism ever make sense...whether it happens here or elsewhere. Tragedy is tragedy and like my friend Echoriath said...it's not numbers, not statistics, it's people. There or Katrina, or Tsunami or Middle East or bar bombing in Thailand or bombs in London...they are people just like us. Someone gave birth to them, someone loved them, someone was devistated when they were gone, someone mourned.
May whatever higher power you believe in have mercy on this world and its pain.
December of 2001 I went to NYC to visit a friend and she asked me to go with her to the site...she lost friends there and had not yet been able to handle going. I did - it was a grey, rainy day and it felt as if the city wept. The smell of death hung there like a cloud and they were still searching the rubble for bodies and clearing debris. The small church there was covered with photos and stories and people milled about in shock and disbelief. She and I stood together and wept, for those lost and for the faces of those rescue folks as they fought the cold and rain for the duty at hand. Seeing the city skyline without the towers was so strange. Seeing that crater where those buildings were was unreal. My last trip to NY, I had wandered for a hour or so in the mall underneath.
How does something as senseless as terrorism ever make sense...whether it happens here or elsewhere. Tragedy is tragedy and like my friend Echoriath said...it's not numbers, not statistics, it's people. There or Katrina, or Tsunami or Middle East or bar bombing in Thailand or bombs in London...they are people just like us. Someone gave birth to them, someone loved them, someone was devistated when they were gone, someone mourned.
May whatever higher power you believe in have mercy on this world and its pain.