I heard sirens and saw people downstairs  gathering on the street, went down to see what was happening just when the second plane hit. 

These pix are from my living room windows.

Oh, I can't imagine what that was like for you -- and everybody else of course.

I visited there (did I already tell you this?) on December 27, 2001.  Ground zero was still smoking.  Yes, I think I did tell you this.

I had written a poem about it.  I laminated it and left it in front of the church where people were putting pictures and things.  About 6 months later, a lady called me at work.  She said she had been on her way to work in the towers and had to stop on her way to pick up something.  When she came out of the store, the first plane hit.

She said she walked past the memorial every day and crossed the street because she refused to look at the things people left there because she hated seeing people standing there taking pictures and smiling.

I had my friend take a picture of me, but I had to turn my back to the camera cuz I couldn't smile.

The day she finally went over to see what was there, she saw  my poem.  She managed to track me down so she could call me and let me know that my poem changed her whole perspective.  She realized that the whole country was there in spirit and were devastated by what happened.

This is the same trip where I had my picture taken overlooking the Hudson River Valley -- my profile picture.

_{[fixed pix]}

Here are some early models for the new WTC.

I am unfamiliar with the territory there -- close to Wall Street, yes?  But I don't even really know the spot where the reflecting pools and other memorials are.  

I don't know where this is going to go.  Duh!

I just don't know my way around New York.  Have only been to the city 4 times and then took the train back to the suburbs at the end of the day.

Sorry, I can't help but post a picture here and there.

A long, long time ago...

Sleep, Dearie, Sleep / Amazing Grace

Who cannot shed a tear when the bagpiper fades off into the distance.  

I can't help but thinking of an old traditional German song that begins:

Ich weiß nicht, was soll es bedeuten,
Daß ich so traurig bin;
Ein Mährchen aus alten Zeiten,
Das kommt mir nicht aus dem Sinn..

I don't know the meaning of why I'm so sad, a fairy tale from ancient time has taken over my mind.

We're celebrating, yes, celebrating, with pomp, circumstances, pageantry,  a fairy tale empire with a rite fit for the Queen. It was a grand production, every last step choreographed, every color matched, every song tuned - I was waiting for the lone horse - greater than any movie finale I've seen, more than Star Wars or Cleopatra could come up with.

I wish King Charles the best, and we're looking forward to his coronation production.  At the same time I have the feeling it's the end of a fairy tale that, in the minds of many, never was. Her passing will be seen as an opportunity to shed the last vestiges of being a  'Possession.'

New York, New York

Accidents Happen

If events happen in threes I wonder what tomorrow will bring.

Yesterday around noon I hear a loud squeal and crash coming from Second Avenue, sirens shortly thereafter. By the time I pass several EMTs are working on people strapped down to prevent spine movement. Somehow, in mid block, one sedan plowed into another, ending up broadside to traffic.

Today , same time, a block further north, a familiar squeal and crunch. A ConEd truck driver, no doubt proud of himself for having gotten his truck into a legal parking space, throws open his door into passing traffic, in the process wiping out the door and the entire right side of a taxi. Luckily there were no passengers.

Reminds me of the days when I worked cars and some of my more spectacular accidents, used to have one every six months, needed or not. I suppose one of the best can be told truthfully now, much time having passed.

I picked up a brand new Cougar at a railhead in New Jersey, eight miles on the odometer, destination Kennedy Airport. About 20 miles or so down the road on the BQE, traffic opens up. I decide to check out low gear (it was an automatic) and somehow slam it into Reverse? instead. The car bucks and spins down the road I don't know how many times, then goes airborne and lands on top of the center divider.

My foreman eventually makes his way through the traffic jam, I hop into the van for the next job, leaving the car for a tow truck, on the way filling out the accident report: the car had an obvious factory defect since it had only 25 miles on it when the transmission failed.

then there was a time I had just gotten a tuna sandwich ...

and the time a semi was in a hurry making a turn while I was beating a yellow light ...

and the time the engine went up in smoke. I left the car on the side of the road next to a wheat field during a dry spell ...

8/2/02

New York, New York

_{Times Square Reflections}

One of my co-workers was an elderly woman, Mrs Washington. I do this only to keep busy, she said. We would give her a key, point to the car, tell her where it was needed, then quickly get out of her way. She'd be there at the destination, patiently waiting for the rest of the crew to catch up.

Once we had to refuel our cars at a local gas station. While being fueled she heard a gas cap door snap shut, thought it was hers and took off, ripping the hose and spewing gas all over.

There was a fire.

*

On I684

Okay, I admit it, it wasn't nice ... but he challenged me when I passed him! He speeded up, I sped up, raced him up the hill where I took my foot off the gas. He sailed past me, triumphant, right past the State Trooper hiding in the bushes where I knew he always hid.