I recall seeing American Airlines Flight 77 eighteen seconds before it hit the Pentagon, by my estimate. This morning, a cool, clear beautiful blue September morning like that one was, I decided to have my own remembrance my own way.
I rode to my favorite old country store on my favorite twisty back roads. I bought a big white styrofoam cup of plain coffee from the self-serve Bunn four-pot coffee machine. I got a carton of chocolate milk from the cooler and two plain Krispy Kreme doughnuts from the counter. I paid with a ten, put all the change in the jar on the counter for the Red Cross-Katrina aid fund, went and sat out on the front porch.
I tempered the coffee with the chocolate milk, ate doughnuts and sipped coffee, and watched as nothing went by on the road or the railroad tracks for a long time. Licked my fingers clean as best I could, saddled up and headed for home.
So much heat, so little light from that awful day. You just have to find the good and embrace it with all your heart.
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If you recall seeing that flight about 18 seconds before its horrible end, then you also recall the last few seconds of one of my closest friends' father's life.
A year ago today I didn't really know Chris very well, but now that I've spent so much time with him, the day has kind of a different feel. A weirder feel.
Still, not going to make a huge deal of it in my behavior today, except in a pause here, a pause there, or a moment to sit and think.
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