Monday, September 5, 2011

Blue Skies

I remember the blueness of the sky that morning. The haze that often dulled its vibrancy was gone. No clouds cast a shadow. No hint of trouble. It was the type of day you felt you could see forever.

I arrived at my office and began my work. The first part of each day was devoted to gaining my bearings, mentally catching up and refocusing on the tasks that lay in front of me. I don't recall what I was doing or thinking when I got the call.

The first tower had been hit. It didn't mean very much to me at that moment. Tragic and frightening, but my mind couldn't register its enormity. Just a plane crash. From where I sat, maybe 10 to 15 miles away, I could see nothing. The sky was still a perfect blue when I looked out my window.

Time seems to have condensed after that, as though all events and information came together in an instant. The second crash, the towers crumbling, the news that our skies were under attack and there were planes down seemingly everywhere. The images of the cloud of dust that stretched on into infinity and darkened everything in its wake. The sky disappeared and the blue could no longer be seen through the death and destruction.

10 years later I remember that I woke up on September 11, 2001 to a world that would soon vanish before my eyes, to a world that no longer exists. 10 years later, I remember that blue sky.

1 comment:

Anonymous said...

And for months after, Robert, when it finally rained, I could only feel the loss of those people who, I was sure, were stuck under piles of rock and stone and soot. Never had something I'd seen on TV so effected me, to the point of feeling buried alive with all those folks. I remember a cartoon a few weeks after that. A woman is at an airport facing enhanced security. Meaning to give her the option of going through with the body and bag search, or not, the guard asked her if she wanted to go back. "Yes," she said, "to September 10."