Stand for Peace.
I remember where I was on this day so few years ago.
I remember the sun was shinning brightly and the temperature was ideal for a spring day, though it was the beginning of fall.
I remember my 3 children were in their schools, and my wife was on her way home when the planes hit.
People ran and screamed and prayed.
On TV, a newscaster fought back tears and despair as he tried to report what was going on around him. Back at the studio, another reporter tried to make his telecast and commercial cue sound lighthearted, as if it was all business as usual. He seemed dreadfully out of touch with reality.
I remember my family racing and struggling to unite from our various points around the city. And by nightfall all but one of us were gathered in our home. One of my sons was stuck in New Jersey – safe, with good friends of ours – but still we were not all together and it was so hard for me to wrap my head around that.
That afternoon my wife and I plotted a speedy exit from the city should it become necessary, or even possible. After all, many of our bridges and tunnels were closed … blocked.
— End Part One —
SimmonsHereAndNow 