I was at a Spanish school in Puebla Mexico when 9/11 happened. One fellow student there was this lovely young New Yorker redhead (who was really embarrassed about her accent).
I remember the owner of the school allowed her to use the school’s phone to make a long distance call to New York to find out if her uncle was OK, and hearing from her family that he went in to one of the towers. Then, as we watched the towers fall live on CNN, she knew he was in one of those towers. Her uncle was one of 343 firefighters who died that day.
She couldn’t go home to be with her family or be at his funeral because all of the planes were grounded. So, she just finished up her class with the rest of us stuck in Mexico. Finally, at the end of the week, when her session ended, she went on a bus and had to road trip all the way back home.
I’m looking at the current world, and I’m reading the ancient sacred writings, and I’m thinking this:
The picture of the twin towers burning on September 11 was taken by Michael Foran and obtained from the Wikimedia. The picture is available from Wikimedia under a CC-BY-2.0 license, and has been altered (resized and cropped) for this blog entry.
Comments for blog entries can be seen in the forum.