20 years. I remember so well going through the metal detector at the federal court build in Indianapolis. The security guy telling me that the world trade center was hit by a plane and we assured each other it was a fluke. A mistake. Then, upstairs to my office and then into a judge’s chambers to watch the second plane hit and the buildings collapse on tv.
I remember trying to wrap my head around the unimaginable in the midst of distress, chaos, sorrow and worry. But a tender memory from that time, in the days and weeks afterwards, midwest friends, neighbors, colleagues and acquaintances, remembered I was from there and asked how I was and how my family and friends were. I had lived in Indiana since 1989, and it was never that easy being from New York. People could be downright mean at times, talking about where I came from as if it was the pit of hell. Not everyone but enough to make David and I shy about that ‘where are you from’ question. During the days and weeks after 9/11, everyone became a New Yorker. Suddenly, I was just like them because they were just like me. I hadn’t expected that and I felt for almost the first time there, that I had community.
We are proceeding slowly through our day.
Last week, Julia’s inclusion facilitator (a post previously called “case manager” and hereafter IF) told me that Julia was not put on the bus list in error and if it was possible for me to drive her for the week, she would get the bus this second week of school.
Sunday, second day of the Framingham PopCult Anime Con.