Sorry, it is almost the anniversary of 9/11, and I was watching something about it on National Geographic.
Brings back a lot of old memories.
On that morning, I was still hoping to write a history of the Great Depression.
I logged on to SI, and expressed an opinion about my research.
Was greeted by a reply, I think by KyrosL, if I recall properly, to the extent that, why was I talking about the Great Depression, when the US was under attack?
I remember going into the living room, and turning on the TV, and seeing one tower of the World Trade Center and a lot of smoke. I thought that both towers were still standing but there was just smoke obscuring one tower.
I left the room briefly for the mundane task of urinating, and when I came back, the second tower was gone. Just gone, and there were no towers. And I was just . . . . just . . . . could not comprehend.
And within a few moments, learned that the Pentagon had been attacked.
Called my husband, and asked him to come home. His office was about half a mile from the Pentagon.
Put on street clothes and drove to my children's schools, and walked into their classrooms, barefoot, and bade them to come out with me.
Drove to my bank and took out five hundred dollars in cash, max from the ATM.
Drove to a gas station and filled up my car.
We passed by a young man standing on the street, flying an American flag. Why? Who was he? But how perfect. And later, cars flying American flags as they drove down the streets. Not military, just an expression of sentiment. I felt a great expression of love for my fellow Americans.
Drove to Costco and loaded up a cart with non perishable food and other supplies sufficient for a hurricane or an earthquake or a terrorist attack -- don't ask me what. Water? Canned heat? I just don't remember. There were almost no other shoppers in Costco except people with similar missions and similar expressions on their faces. I will never forget what it looks like to look into the faces of other people preparing for war by shopping at Costco, pushing carts with looks of grim determination.
And then home. Husband eventually made it home, and we hunkered down. We flew American flags from the bases we use for Fourth of July. This means a great deal to us. You may scoff.
And I never really took the Great Depression seriously again.
And yes, now, I have become militaristic. Sorry. |
