The anniversary of the 9/11 attack was a couple of days ago. I reflected that day, as I usually do that one that day I was having my first book fair at the middle school. I think it was even the first day of the fair. Open house was scheduled that night. The fair was up on a stage with no access to televisions or news. Throughout the day, people would stop by with amazing stories. First that there was an accident and a jet had flown into a building, then another jet. Then reports of people jumping from buildings and other plane accidents. I heard about 9/11 in disjointed pieces. Little by little as the tragedy unfolded, I heard more. It didn't make sense.
By the end of the day, the open house for that night had been postponed and I even think school may have been canceled the next day. About that I am not sure. I remember that things were said about terrorists trying to disrupt our lives and we weren't letting them do that by having school, so we were back to school quickly if we even took off a day. It was a confusing and scary time.
But, the most direct contact I had with 9/11 was the closing of airports, the lack of planes. I live near the airport in St. Louie. There are planes in the sky all of the time. During the days after 9/11 there were no planes. I can't explain what the absence of planes meant. My eyes missed them. My mind had that eerie feeling that something was missing. It was such an odd and fearful feeling.
Eventually, the planes came back. Eventually, life seemed to go back to normal. I had many more book fairs over the years. I always hated them. My first one had set me up to dread them. I have never been to New York City. If I ever get there, one of the stops will be the site of the World Trade Center. The world stopped that day.
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