9-1-1
I wasn’t intending to blahg about September 11th. I usually don’t because, since I wasn’t personally affected by it, I sort of feel as though it’s in bad taste for me to yammer away about tragedy and heroes and all that. I am not being disrespectful at all and we have all been affected. But I wasn’t affected in the same way that those who lost friends and family members or witnessed the plane crashes. My life has been inconvenienced by post-911 security procedures everywhere but, after some initial shock and terror, it resumed the usual boring trajectory of just trudging along. With my family intact.
But then this morning, I was out for my 0-dark-30 walk and I found myself dodging fire trucks and ambulances in my usually quiet neighborhood. The neighborhood where I am more often dodging skunks out on their morning rounds (and I did dodge one today). Make no mistake. There were no skyscrapers or 747s involved in this incident. I don’t know what it was or who dialed 9-1-1. Heart attack? Kitchen fire? Gas leak? It may or may not have been a tragedy for someone but it didn’t affect me, except that I had to dodge some vee-hickles. (Yes, I walk in the middle of the street. We’ll talk about that some other time. Actually, we probably already have.)
September 11, 2001 was a bizarre day for me. I had a prescient dream that morning, just before I woke up. I didn’t remember or connect the dream until later. In the dream I was at the moominbeach and I heard something going on in the bay and when I walked down to the beach, there was smoke everywhere and fire engines at the end of the beach and I don’t know how they got there because there was no road down there in those days but the beach does weird things in my dreams. Anyway. One of my aunts was standing up on the bank looking terrified and I ran like hell to grab her and then I forced myself to wake up. So yes! Now y’all *know* how crazy I am!
I got up and took a shower, walked, then came home and did all the stuff a moom with two high schoolers does in the morning (whatever that was) and settled in to do some theatre guild work on my strawberry iMac. In a major aberration from my usual habits, I didn’t turn the radio on that morning! I don’t know why. It was a *gorgeous* morning and I was just jazzing along without the news. At one point I made a quick dash to the Westgate Kroger. As I was getting a cart, I overheard some folks talking about a “small” plane hitting the World Trade Center. I didn’t pay much attention and I remained oblivious until I saw a dark green Honda Accord pull into the Landfill driveway later that morning. I did a double-take. Was that *our* dogha? What was the GG doing home so early? Was he sick? Did they fire him? Of course not. Of course, the EPA had been shut down. Who knew what would happen next? What would be the next target?
It was a scary day. It did change our lives. I hope that this frivolous entry about my own little life does not disrespect those who lost loved ones in that tragedy.
September 11th, 2009 at 9:24 pm
As to your closing comment: not one bit. Luv you.
September 11th, 2009 at 10:01 pm
Nope, not a bit. We were so far away on the west coast that it seemed unreal (but scary) to us. My high school has a large military population, thus the mood was grim. I remember how blue the sky was(but silent because of no planes) and how weird the world felt. Things had changed and everyone knew it.