Remembering 9/11

I will never forget that day, and I take time to grieve about it every year on its anniversary.  I was at work early that Tuesday morning when I heard on the radio that a small plane had hit the World Trade Center in New York. At the time, I was working across the street from the World Trade Center in downtown Denver.  I thought that the pilot must have problems and it was an accident.  About ten minutes later, I got chills up my spine when they said a second plane had hit the other tower. I knew then, as did everyone else who heard, that this was no accident, and of course later learned the details that it was no "small" plane that hit the first time.  I immediately tried to locate co-workers who were flying that morning, or on job sites along the Eastern part of the country.  It wasn't until hours later that I learned my co-workers were all safe, if stranded.  My building was evacuated and I reluctantly left my office to go home.  Denver, like any big city, is usually bustling and noisy.  But that morning, as we all made our way to bus stations and car lots to get home, it was so quiet.  You could see the grief on everyone's face and  no one could bear to say a word.  I think we all, in our quiet way, felt close as Americans and knew that something had struck us to the core.  I remember one fellow was standing on an overpass, waving an American flag.  People politely slowed down, waved, or honked their horn in support of this man's gesture.

And even amid the horrible tragedy, there were stories of hope and survival.  People trapped in a stairwell on the lower level of one tower miraculously survived.  A man, hearing a plea for help high up in one of the towers, rescued another man who was still trapped in debris in the same office where one of the wings of the second plane had come to stop.  Both men made it out and found sanctuary in a close-by church before the towers collapsed.  

And I remember us, Americans, as we were on 9/12, how we stood as one to do whatever we could to help, resolved to be strong in the face of horror, and how united we felt.  

So every year, I grieve for what was lost that day, and I thank God for being alive and for being an American, and I hope we can reconnect with who we were on 9/12.  Amid the mayhem of just getting through the day, I hope we can all pause to reflect on the significance of this day, remember all who lost their lives and the loved ones they left behind, raise them in prayer, and remember how much unites us.

Escalator to Heck

I don't know if this is a photo of the same escalator, but
I get dizzy looking at it, so it is close enough!

While we were in DC, we rode the Metro to someplace (I can't recall where, exactly) to have dinner with other folks who were in DC from Colorado.  When we left the Metro underground station, we took THE longest escalator I've ever seen, probably some 5-stories high, all one, single escalator.  It was a long ride up, several minutes at least.  What I failed to understand until later was that we would eventually end up back at this station from the top, and I'd have to ride the other escalator DOWN.

So, several hours and one dinner later, we got to the station.  I admit, I get vertigo pretty easily. I'm terrified of heights.  And basically a weenie about such things.  So I finally psyched myself into getting on this thing, and then dared to look down to the bottom. The only problem was that you really couldn't see the bottom. And that's when the panic set in. However, I was already on the thing, it was moving, and I was committed.  I must have looked ridiculous, clutching the black rubber moving hand rail thingie with both hands on one side (I could NOT face forward, it was impossible).  And I swear the ride down was several hours long.  It wasn't until we were nearly to the bottom that I could release my death grip on the rail and actually contemplate stepping off.  Phew.

They say what doesn't kill you can only make you stronger.  That may be true. And in light of life's other challenges, this really wasn't that big of a deal.  But the adrenaline rush of making it to the bottom, alive, was incredible.  But I probably won't want to use this particular Metro station again.  I can't imagine how people do this every day. In my opinion, an escalator like this warrants flashing red lights, and a replica of Robbie the Robot waving his arms frantically while saying, "Danger, Will Robinson!"

To my credit, I did cling to the RIGHT side of the escalator.  So those crazy people who walk down escalators like this, without a thought of how close they are to loss of life or limb, weren't getting too annoyed at me since I wasn't blocking their path.  I learned pretty quick that if you don't stay to the right as a slow-pokie like me, people get pretty impatient with you and feel inclined to let you know what they think of you blocking their egress.

Summer Evening

I wish I could be this relaxed in the car. 

We've been home from vacation a few days now and things are starting to feel pretty normal.  Laundry is all done, grocery shopping is done, all the critters are home and settled in, and life is good.

I was sitting on the front porch tonight shucking corn for dinner and thinking about how relaxing and peaceful it was.  Crickets are chirping and the days are still warmed with a summer sun.  But the nights are getting cool and thoughts turn to fall and all the changes that will bring. Cold-weather gear, tracking down mittens and scarves and coats that seem to get perpetually misplaced, and the delight of the holidays. I won't mind the cooler weather.  At least not right away.  Usually, by about March, I'm desperate for summer, so I reserve the right to complain about the cold at some point during the winter.

But for now, I'm just enjoying the dog days of summer.

Almost Heaven

On Tuesday, we packed up the car and left the DC area after spending six incredible days there.  I had been told, prior to our trip, that a week there wouldn't be nearly enough, and that is completely correct.  I think we could have spent a month in DC and barely scratch the surface of everything there.

After having spent some time driving around Alexandria, Virginia, and seeing the lovely old houses, and headed toward West Virginia.  As we traveled west, the humidity got lighter and the terrain became more hilly and wooded.  I saw several sets of three crosses along the highway, and wondered about these. These were huge, probably 15 or more feet high, so these were no road-side memorials.  Out of curiosity, I looked this up on my iPhone and discovered that there were 352 such sets of three crosses in West Virginia alone.  A man named Bernard Coffindaffer  placed hundreds of crosses in many states and in other areas in the world.  They were inspiring for me, especially after the amazing event of Saturday on August 28 at the Lincoln Memorial.  

Virginia, West Virginia, and Kentucky were lush and gorgeous, with all the rolling hills and forests so thick you could only guess at what was beyond them.  Surprisingly, it got less humid as we headed into Kentucky.  I don't know if that's typical, but I expected the opposite to be true. 

We had kind of a long day of driving, and ended up in Lexington, Kentucky. We discovered the morning after our stop there that we were near the site of a former race track, and at the old site was a really beautiful race horse cemetery.  So on Wednesday morning, we drove around a bit to see what other treasures Lexington had.  We drove through Frankfort, and found the Capitol building.  It was remarkable in that it was sort of surrounded by trees and residential areas, not really in an urban setting, as most Capitol buildings we've seen seem to be.

Home Sweet Home!

Sorry I haven't been adding much new in the last week. It wasn't for lack of trying. We had some major internet issues on the road. I would type and look up and see the spinning wheel in rainbow colors (which usually means the computer is "thinking") and find out that all my typing didn't do anything.  There would be brief 10-15 seconds periods of being able to type, followed by 3-5 minutes of "thinking" which was excruciatingly frustrating for me.  Yeah, we're spoiled by being used to fast internet.  But still. It was too much. I didn't have hours to sit waiting while the computer thought and chugged away. It would destroy my flow of writing.  Dang machines.

So, the news this morning is that we're home!  We drove from St. Louis, Missouri yesterday all the way back home in Colorado.  Wow.  Almost 900 miles.  We pulled into our driveway last night about 11:30 and were almost in tears to see our house again.  Vacation was great, but sometimes the best part is getting home again. I know the kids were homesick, and we all miss our critters, so it's good to be here.  We pick up our dogs in a couple of hours. I can't wait to see them.

You know, much as people malign American-made cars, I have to mention here our Dodge Grand Caravan, which has taken us on numerous family road trips over the years.  This van tuned over 200,000 miles within the first few days of this recent vacation.  On the second morning of our trip, somewhere in Iowa, we heard a THWACK! THWACK! THWACK! under the hood after setting out on the freeway.  Pulling back off the freeway, we discovered a chunk missing out of one of the belts on the engine.  Fortunately, we were within a few miles of a NAPA parts store, which was open (this was a Sunday morning - yay NAPA!).  My husband bought a new belt and a tool to replacement, but felt we should just go on, hoping the belt would hold until we got to a better place to fix it.  And you know what?  We still haven't replaced that belt.  Our great car went another nearly 3,000 miles, chunked-out belt and all.  In total, our trip was about 3,600 miles. Wow.  Granted, my husband is a gifted mechanic and keeps all our cars in great condition.  But still, how many people would head out on such a long road trip with a car nearing 200,000 miles?  I kind of expected everything to fall off the car when we pulled up to the house last night, thought it would be kind of a comic end to our trip. But the car is still sitting there this morning, appearing to be completely intact.  What a great car!

So today we express our thanks for all the prayers and well wishes for our journey, and for the opportunity to take this trip with our kids. It has been a huge blessing for us. 

Brushtrokes and Family Time

On Sunday, we met friends and visited the National Art Museum along The Mall in DC.  Words are inadequate to describe the Art Museum. There are original works by Matisse, Picasso, Monet, Renoir, Van Gogh, and so many others.  You can get so close to the work that you can distinguish individual brushstrokes on the paintings.  They were stunning.  Each room of the museum comes with an attendant to make sure you don't actually touch anything, but you are close enough to touch them.  Among the items on display is a chalice that predates Christ and is partially made from carved stone.  It's perfectly round with ridges evenly spaced along the outside, and is set in a gold worked piece to complete the chalice.  I have to wonder what kinds of tools were used to carve the stone.  I think we need to credit our ancestors with having some incredible abilities, even without electricity and diamond-tipped saws

On Sunday afternoon, we left The Mall and headed back to the car, parked at a Metro Station.  We drove to my husband's Aunt and Uncle's house in Alexandria where we were delighted to see not only them, but several cousins, children of cousins, and a sweet baby boy who was absolutely delightful.  It really helped complete our trip to enjoy time with family in the DC area.