Friday, September 12, I had to drive up to Malibu to pick-up my race packet. As I approached Pepperdine University I came across this incredible sight. Thousands of flags on that expansive grassy hillside- 2,997 of them to be exact; one for each victim of 9/11. It was an amazing sight. The night before I watched some of the shows commemorating the event on the History Channel. I came across them while channel surfing... the film was an open mic but no one was talking. NYC has never been so silent. There were people walking around but no one said a word. And I was plunged back into that feeling I had after the attacks and unable to pull myself away from the vision on the screen.
For those of you who don't know, I was in NYC 5 days before the attacks. A friend called me at work on Friday and offered me his frequent flyer miles to come to the east coast for the weekend. I've never done anything quite that impulsive but took him up on his offer. I was on the red-eye that night.
It was the most beautiful weekend: postcard weather with clear blue skies. We visited some friends on Long Island. My hosts took me on their boat and we cruised around Manhattan. I feel honored to have been able to see the Towers one last time. My friend and I stayed much to late to make the trek back to Connecticut so we stayed on Long Island at our hosts beautiful home. The next day instead of racing back to CN to retrieve my luggage then to JFK to catch my return flight, my friend convinced me to go into the city to play instead. He promised to Fed Ex my things to me overnight. I agreed and we spent a fabulous day in the city afterwich he took me to the airport and I boarded without any luggage and only the clothes I was wearing. That would be viewed as very suspect post-9/11. But again, I was so grateful to have had one more moment in NYC that was so carefree and exciting. Not to mention that I could leave my shoes on before boarding the plane!
The morning of 9/11 I was getting ready for work when the radio program broke with a news bulletin that a plane had reportedly hit one of the towers. I immediately knew it wasn't an accident because of all the flight restrictions. I turned on the TV and was watching live when the second plane hit. I think we all share the mutual story of being glued to the TV/radio while the country's collective heart was broken.
About 6 weeks after the attack, Mom and I went to NYC and visited the site. They were still keeping people several blocks away but you could still see enough to break your heart. And again, the silence. No one spoke. I'll never forget that feeling.
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