That day 9/11 so long ago.... now 17 years ago.
I remember I was on my way to work and stopped at the Post Office to mail a birthday package to my brother. The postal clerk told me a second plane had crashed into the World Trade Center. I felt slightly off balance hearing that news and had not heard about the first plane. Our electricity was off that morning as the huge tree (probably dating back to the mid 1800's) was being cut down that morning. It was all eerie and strange and upsetting.
I made it to work at the Jewish school where I taught and wondered about our vulnerability. The day was thick with questions, fear and uncertainties.
The day got worse and later I watched those people jumping from the buildings.
Today as I write it is a brilliant sunny day. It was sunny back then too, but soon clouded by smoke and heartbreak. I came home that day to a wide open expanse of sky that was oddly eerie and symbolic of what had happened in NYC that day.
Years pass. Memory remains. I recall how the NYT carefully and compassionately printed obituaries pairing maintenance people with high executives. Death had been a level ground after all. Grief saturated those months going into fall and winter. I lit candles on that tree stump for months even as the snow began to fall. Grief remained...
