Like every other work week morning, I had set up my alarm clock to 7:00am.
It was always the same spiel. Press snooze button, with eyes closed try to find the clicker on my bedside table, turn on the morning news and listen from under the covers, while Mr.C made the coffee. To let sound and smell slowly finish the job of getting me out of bed to start the day.
Only that morning, they were talking about awful, inconceivable things that made no sense to my ears or to my heart. So instead of playing wake up for the next 20 minutes I propped myself up, opened my eyes, looked and listened.
Five years later I still hear those voices, reporting what was happening back east. And I still grieve for the city where I was born and every day I think about it a little.
But on days like today, every September 11th of every year since--when I take the day off from work to stay home, close to my loved ones--I think about it, a lot.
"Without End Event: Visual art, spoken word, music and public meditation will observe 9/11 and the 100th anniversary of the first nonviolence campaign launched by Mohandas Gandhi in 1906. Westlake Plaza Park, Fourth Avenue and Pine Street in downtown Seattle. Today, Monday September 11th, 2006 at 5 p.m." Seattle Times
