Hard to believe it's been 7 years.
Wondering how all those families, all those fathers, mothers, sisters, brothers and sons and daughters of all those people are holding up today.
Interestingly, so far, at 2 p.m. I have neither seen nor heard any mention of the anniversary over here in France, neither on the news or in emails or anything. Certainly must not be the case in America today.
I can almost feel the recycled cardboard ring around my Starbucks cup in my hand that I was holding in DC when I walked thru the glass doors at the office and my friend at work said "Look at this hoax photo on CNN of some plane hitting one of the twin towers".
On last year's blog I talked about what I did the night before the attacks - how I, like everyone, was having a casual Monday night, totally unaware of what some others had planned for the rest of the world just a few hours later.
When I was 22 years old in 1993 and living in New York, I worked in the World Trade Center in one of the towers as a temp. I worked on the 102nd floor for about 3 weeks for a company called Cantor Fitzgerald. I think I had to take 3 different elevators to get to work - I can barely remember. But I do recall the rush of energy when I would come up out of the 1 and the 9 subway from the Village, so many men in business suits and briefcases, long before the age of cell phones, hustling along, juggling their blue cups of deli take-out coffee. I was totally taken with it all and loved every second of my stint there. I was the one of two other women in this huge office of men on phones and staring at screens, hollering and bickering all day. Such a vibe I have rarely seen. It was, for that young Vermont girl, impressive. The take-out lunches and chopsticks and the reubens and pastrami sandwiches they would all eat at their desks. Totally enthralling, all of it. And all of it crashed down in a matter of seconds on this day.
Still shocking, 7 years later, and still sad.
