On my second blogiversary of 9/11, I want to re-post J in Baltimore's memories of 9/11. J is sitting next to me as I post this, as we spend the long weekend at the beach (more below today's featured post). The rest of the italicized introduction is what I wrote least year.
I prefer not to work on 9/11 - I think in our rush to "get back to normal," we've left the need to grieve, and remember, behind.
Since this is my first 9/11 anniversary with a blog (I spent last year's Labor Day debating whether starting
with 9/11 postings was healthy), I want to give today over to remembering that day - first someone else's, then my own.
Although you know him as J in Baltimore, to me, he goes by many names. I'm only slightly kidding. There's something fateful about the way the story of my 9/11 and his intertwine quite so much, and I am honored to present my best friend's recollections to you. My life's work, really, is convincing J to write more - he's better at it than I am, more gifted, more direct. My other task is to promote his work. My own recollections will follow shortly.
I’d tried to vote in the primary election that morning. I can’t remember if it was mayoral or something else. They couldn’t find my name at the polling place even though I’d received the little yellow card in the mail with that address on it. I was steamed; I went straight to work and up to my cubicle and called the election board to complain, ending my cranky voice-mail message with, “What is this, Florida!?!”
It was probably around 7:30 now, and I went back downstairs and outside for my morning glazed donut, diet soda (never really been a hot caffeine person), and cigarette breakfast (ahh, how I miss them still) near the water at the South Street Seaport. In the three months since I’d started at Prudential, it was always calming for me to start the mornings this way, getting to see the sun gleam on the water, the sightseeing boaters preparing for their day, and the seafood houses already in the middle of theirs.
It was probably around 8:00 that I went up to officially start my work day, checking emails and voicemails, taking care of a few things that had come over the department fax late from the night before. It was a while later that a manager, John, another early starter, came out of his office and said, “Come see this. The World Trade Center is on fire.”
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