Thursday, September 11, 2003

I wanted to be alone this morning at 8:46 am, the moment two years ago when American Airlines Flight 11 out of Boston hit the north tower of the World Trade Center in New York City and it became clear that the United States of America was vulnerable to international terrorism, just like the rest of the world.

I found a quiet, rarely-visited spot outside my office building. It struck me that the weather is so very close to what it was two years ago: crisp early autumn air and a brilliant blue sky. I think there were a few white clouds on the earlier date, while today the Washington sky is completely clear. Otherwise, the feel is the same.

There's a government installation across the street from my office. At about 8:43, I heard "The Star-Spangled Banner" playing from inside their fence line. Looking at the front gate, I saw they were doing a flag-raising ceremony. I put my hand on my heart and watched. The flag went up to half-mast.

8:46 arrived. A commercial jet that had just taken off from Dulles flew across the sky, left to right from my perspective, at a grand and leisurely pace. I thought about the passengers on those four planes two years ago.

A few seconds later, a helicopter came in low from the same side, quickly disappearing behind some trees within the government compound. I thought about the changes we, as individuals and as a nation, have made in our lives over the last two years.

As the sound of the chopper faded, another plane from Dulles traced an invisible line across the blue, following the path of the first one. I thought about how life goes on, and how life must go on.

It was 8:47. I went inside and got back to work.

Posted @ 11:46 AM

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