once in a blue sky
In the parlance of aviation, a “severe clear” sky, so intensely blue with seemingly unlimited visibility and air so pure, it can blind a pilot.
In the parlance of aviation, a “severe clear” sky, so intensely blue with seemingly unlimited visibility and air so pure, it can blind a pilot.
What I remember about the morning of September 11 is how blue the sky was above the Twin Towers on my TV screen. And, I remember the feeling of revulsion so familiar to me from growing up in a tiny country where every day is an anniversary of some atrocity.
Until that morning, I had taken for granted the sense of security I felt as an immigrant who had traded in Northern Ireland for the United States. Foolishly, I had too quickly dropped my guard, almost forgetting anything can happen. I no longer felt the need to reassure myself that the sound of a car backfiring on the freeway was not a gunshot, that a clap of Monsoon thunder was not a bomb timed to go off in the heart of a village on the busiest day of the year, that a shopping bag left behind on the bus was not packed with explosives.
What I remember about the morning of September 11 is how blue the sky was above the Twin Towers on my TV screen. And, I remember the feeling of revulsion so familiar to me from growing up in a tiny country where every day is an anniversary of some atrocity.
Until that morning, I had taken for granted the sense of security I felt as an immigrant who had traded in Northern Ireland for the United States. Foolishly, I had too quickly dropped my guard, almost forgetting anything can happen. I no longer felt the need to reassure myself that the sound of a car backfiring on the freeway was not a gunshot, that a clap of Monsoon thunder was not a bomb timed to go off in the heart of a village on the busiest day of the year, that a shopping bag left behind on the bus was not packed with explosives.
Flanked by row upon row of flagpoles set five feet apart, we can stretch out our arms to touch two lives at …