4:04 p.m. - 2007-09-11
we interrupt this story....
This time six years ago I was returning from Danville with my boss. We had checked in with everyone we knew in NYC, they were fine; all was good. As good as it could be, at least. Only after the fact did I learn of all the people I could have been worried about: the best man at my wedding, who called us from the Meadowlands in NJ to say he was fine. It turns out that United Flight 93 was one of his regular ones.... His wife was also safe and sound, as she wasn't traveling that day, either.
My cousin, the firefighter/EMT, who was called to the Pentagon to render assistance. Again, he was fine--lost his cell phone by loaning it to someone, but that's the worst of it.
It was a day of people checking in to say they were OK--confirming that, even though the outside world had gone mad, their corner of the universe was safe and sound. Luckily for me, my corner of the universe stayed intact.
This past April, I was on the other end of those phone calls. Relatives who had forgotten I no longer lived or worked in the Blacksburg area called to make sure I was fine, my children were fine, my husband was fine. I, in turn, got e-mails from my friends in Blacksburg letting me know everyone there was fine, but shaken. Again, my corner of the universe stayed intact. The closest loss for me being co-workers of friends and perhaps a distant cousin with red hair and my maiden name--a young lady I'd never heard of except posthumously. And that shook me more than anything else.
Terror and tragedy--the geometry of remembering that loss can strike at any time. The reminder that loss comes to us all, no matter how much or how little warning there is. The resurrection of fear for those we love and the motivation to reach out--if only to check our own corner of the universe to make sure it is intact.
