Do you believe someone watches over us? Photo taken the town of Roquemaure.
le souvenir (sooveh-neer)
: memory, recollection
Audio file: listen to Jean-Marc read the example sentence below: Download mp3 or Wav file
Hier soir, nous avons regardé un film en souvenir des attentats du 11 Septembre 2001.
Last night, we watched a film in memory of September 11th, 2001.
The latest edition of Pronounce it Perfectly in French is out. Click here.
A Day in a French Life… by Kristin Espinasse
Seven years ago we came to a fork in the road of our French existence. Jean-Marc was floundering at his job as an uninspired sales rep for an Italian company selling wine bottling machines. As for me, I was holding on tight to the coattails of my writing dream. But a proposition my husband was about to make threatened to put an end to both of our careers:
"Et si on déménage en Californie?" he ventured.
To this day I wonder what our life would have been like, had I not talked Jean-Marc out of the idea of moving to the States and, instead, reminded him about his own dream of wine-making. (Admittedly, the encouragement given was also a way of safeguarding my own nascent vocation–as a chronicler of French life.)
Jean-Marc soon quit looking for jobs in the California wine industry (he'd discovered the town of Healdsburg and was smitten), and happened upon a vineyard for sale in the town of Sainte Cécile-les-Vignes, where we spent the next 5 years of our lives–he picking grapes and making wine–and I chronicling a fast-paced life in the slow-poke countryside. What a ride.
Still no regrets for talking my husband into deepening our French roots, though I do sometimes wonder what life would have been like had we offered our children a chance to grow up in the States. By now one of them would be a senior in some California high school, and the other would be celebrating her upcoming Sweet 16 as a Valley Girl might.
"I know 16 is a special birthday for Americans," Jackie hints, hoping to cash in on a smart phone this year.
"Oh yah, Smartie Pants? Just how do you know so much about American culture?" But I already know the answer to the question–it's all the dubbed T.V. our daughter watches. In any case, the reality in our house is we don't do birthdays like the Kardashians!
Which reminds me, now, what it is about France that pulled me close in that decisive do we stay or do we go moment: it's something about French modesty (apart from necklines and swimwear, of course)… and history. These two things are beautifully represented in a gift my mother-in-law received, at about the same age as Jackie.
"That year I received an orange." Though my belle-mère remembers it bitterly, the flicker of gratitude is still bright in her eyes. Her father was a prisoner of war, and her mother struggled to make ends meet, hawking linens out of her truck in North Africa. Under the gritty circumstances, it was a privilege to receive a gift at all–and to this day my mother-in-law can't eat a clementine without remembering her family's struggles.
Perhaps that is what draws me to old France: more than modesty, it is remembering. Here is where the word souvenir takes on full meaning. More than a trinket brought home from a tourist trap, a souvenir is a heart-filled remembrance and a timeless honoring. It whisper "We will never forget." On ne vous oubliera jamais.
This week my own country–and people all over the world–are remembering September 11th. Last night, as I watched the film "Vol 93", I remembered the hair-raising telephone call, received twelve years ago….
A Dutch neighbor, who ran a local café in Les Arcs-sur-Argens, rang me. Her voice filled with empathy, she asked, "Have you heard the news?"
* * *
I meant to write about our parallel life, or what things would have been like had we taken the other direction at that proverbial fork in the road. Instead, things ended up here–neither in California or in Ste. Cécile, but here, with this souvenir de 11 Septembre.
Will you join in now, and share: Where were you when you heard the news?
The photos in today's post were all taken in Roquemaure, France, in 2010.
Diamonds and shutters.
The restaurant is called L'Ecole Buissonnière, and the term faire l'école buissonnière means to play hooky or skip school.
Lace curtains at the green grocer's and cageots, or crates, of produce.
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Our dear Kristi,
You have so eloquently and beautifully expressed what we as Americans felt on that horrible morning. My husband,a (now) retired airline captain, was supposed to have been flying a trip to New York at exactly the same time when the Twin Towers were attacked. It was God’s mercy,grace,and intervention that protected him–and our family)–when his flight was delayed.
It is that same grace which gave you the wisdom in deciding your future,Kristi.
God speaks to us in ways that we don’t always hear at the time,but bottom line: we DO hear.
Such beautiful pictures only outshined by such a wonderfully well written post toay. Once again you have shined light on keeping faith’s inspiration.
THANK YOU.
Blessings to you and your dear family.
Love, Natalia XO
Our dear Kristi,
You have so eloquently and beautifully expressed what we as Americans felt on that horrible morning. My husband,a (now) retired airline captain, was supposed to have been flying a trip to New York at exactly the same time when the Twin Towers were attacked. It was God’s mercy,grace,and intervention that protected him–and our family)–when his flight was delayed.
It is that same grace which gave you the wisdom in deciding your future,Kristi.
God speaks to us in ways that we don’t always hear at the time,but bottom line: we DO hear.
Such beautiful pictures only outshined by such a wonderfully well written post toay. Once again you have shined light on keeping faith’s inspiration.
THANK YOU.
Blessings to you and your dear family.
Love, Natalia XO
My daughter was at work in the building across from the towers. She had gotten to work early so she could go across to the post-office in one of the towers to mail a birthday gift to her brother, our son. (His birthday is today) Fortunately, she had not yet crossed the street when the first plane hit. The glass in the windows of her building were blown out for 20 floors.She made her way down the stairs from the 39th floor, and was on the ground when the towers collapsed. She made her way home walking to her apartment, got cleaned up, and, as she was head of human resources, went to her firm’s mid-town office to start checking on employees. That was such a terrible, terrible day, and our family was so very fortunate.
My daughter was at work in the building across from the towers. She had gotten to work early so she could go across to the post-office in one of the towers to mail a birthday gift to her brother, our son. (His birthday is today) Fortunately, she had not yet crossed the street when the first plane hit. The glass in the windows of her building were blown out for 20 floors.She made her way down the stairs from the 39th floor, and was on the ground when the towers collapsed. She made her way home walking to her apartment, got cleaned up, and, as she was head of human resources, went to her firm’s mid-town office to start checking on employees. That was such a terrible, terrible day, and our family was so very fortunate.
My husband and I were in Adelaide, South Australia. It was late evening there when one of our daughters , a nurse, called to say she had seen on a patient’s TV that there had been a terrible accident with a plane crashing into a tall building in New York. My husband is an American and she thought he would be interested. By the time we had turned on our TV the second plane had crashed and we knew this was no accident. My husband stayed up all night to watch what was unfolding.
When I went to work the next day, everyone was stunned, many crying. There were television sets in almost every shop window with crowds of people watching.
My husband and I were in Adelaide, South Australia. It was late evening there when one of our daughters , a nurse, called to say she had seen on a patient’s TV that there had been a terrible accident with a plane crashing into a tall building in New York. My husband is an American and she thought he would be interested. By the time we had turned on our TV the second plane had crashed and we knew this was no accident. My husband stayed up all night to watch what was unfolding.
When I went to work the next day, everyone was stunned, many crying. There were television sets in almost every shop window with crowds of people watching.
I was in my car listening to a radio broadcast that didn’t quite ring true and was full of confusion. I went home and turned on the TV and saw what I couldn’t believe. A day of horror. Thank you for remembering. Johanna
I was in my car listening to a radio broadcast that didn’t quite ring true and was full of confusion. I went home and turned on the TV and saw what I couldn’t believe. A day of horror. Thank you for remembering. Johanna
My father helped build the Twin Towers, at the time they were hit he was 79, it hit him very, very hard. He wanted so much to go help but was sick and would die 9 months later. I never forget the look in his eyes. He wanted to help so bad. I guess we all felt that way. All of my family and friends who worked near were safe. That is a blessing, but I will never ever forget all who were lost.
I pray for all those families each year.
My father helped build the Twin Towers, at the time they were hit he was 79, it hit him very, very hard. He wanted so much to go help but was sick and would die 9 months later. I never forget the look in his eyes. He wanted to help so bad. I guess we all felt that way. All of my family and friends who worked near were safe. That is a blessing, but I will never ever forget all who were lost.
I pray for all those families each year.
Healdsburg is lovely but you are much closer to the beach!
Each choice we make colors and carves the memories of our lives.
Healdsburg is lovely but you are much closer to the beach!
Each choice we make colors and carves the memories of our lives.
Thank you for mentioning that day. I was almost at work in Northern Virginia, a couple miles away from the runway where the plane that hit the Pentagon took off. I got to work and they let us leave. I had joined the volunteer fire dept earlier that year and had just started fire school. Now I work with many men who were at the Pentagon that day. They tell stories of the fire, and the rescue’s, as well as the sad recoveries. The Pentagon has been repaired, and the Towers are being rebuilt, but the damage that was done that day in our hearts and minds never can be.
Thank you for mentioning that day. I was almost at work in Northern Virginia, a couple miles away from the runway where the plane that hit the Pentagon took off. I got to work and they let us leave. I had joined the volunteer fire dept earlier that year and had just started fire school. Now I work with many men who were at the Pentagon that day. They tell stories of the fire, and the rescue’s, as well as the sad recoveries. The Pentagon has been repaired, and the Towers are being rebuilt, but the damage that was done that day in our hearts and minds never can be.
My father’s birthday is 9/11, mine is 9/12. My husband took the week off work that year, to spend time with me. My parents met us for breakfast after we had dropped my kids off at school. Upon meeting up at the restaurant, my husband and I were told of the news by my parents. We still went to breakfast, not yet knowing this was not an accident. We returned home to our TV and remained glued to it for days, all the while keeping the news from our children who were only 6 and 4 at the time. I think it was years before we fully explained it to them, there was no reason in our minds to scare them with this kind of reality yet.
I will never forget the feeling of fear and helplessness that I experienced that day.
My father’s birthday is 9/11, mine is 9/12. My husband took the week off work that year, to spend time with me. My parents met us for breakfast after we had dropped my kids off at school. Upon meeting up at the restaurant, my husband and I were told of the news by my parents. We still went to breakfast, not yet knowing this was not an accident. We returned home to our TV and remained glued to it for days, all the while keeping the news from our children who were only 6 and 4 at the time. I think it was years before we fully explained it to them, there was no reason in our minds to scare them with this kind of reality yet.
I will never forget the feeling of fear and helplessness that I experienced that day.
I was driving to an appointment near my Virginia home when I heard the news of the “accident” on the car radio. My husband & I had visited the WTT a few years before, so I could visualize this sad event. By the time I returned to the office, the accident had turned into the attack. A TV was running in one room and a crowd gathered around it, speechless, numb, dazed. All work ceased for the day as we dialed our friends and family who lived near the site and clung to the newscasts. A searing memory of incredible carnage.
I was driving to an appointment near my Virginia home when I heard the news of the “accident” on the car radio. My husband & I had visited the WTT a few years before, so I could visualize this sad event. By the time I returned to the office, the accident had turned into the attack. A TV was running in one room and a crowd gathered around it, speechless, numb, dazed. All work ceased for the day as we dialed our friends and family who lived near the site and clung to the newscasts. A searing memory of incredible carnage.
I was home in Rockville, MD, off for the day awaiting the cable tv repairman when he came with the news that a plane had crashed into one of the towers of the World Trade Center in NYC. I quickly turned on the radio, only to hear that the second tower had been struck by a second plane… It had been a beautiful sunny day and and this seemed so unreal… so horrific…
I was home in Rockville, MD, off for the day awaiting the cable tv repairman when he came with the news that a plane had crashed into one of the towers of the World Trade Center in NYC. I quickly turned on the radio, only to hear that the second tower had been struck by a second plane… It had been a beautiful sunny day and and this seemed so unreal… so horrific…
Thank you, Kristin, for remembering and for providing the opportunity for this conversation. My heart goes out to all who were touched that day.
I was living in New York City, working in the financial district. Upon first news, I looked out my office window and stared at sheets of paper swirling across the skyline like confetti from a ticker tape parade and noticed window drapes landing on a rooftop. Then the roar! The sound of a jet moving 500 miles an hour only blocks from my office window, heading straight towards the south tower and exploding into a huge fireball. In an instant, hundreds of lives lost.
I truly thought this could possibly be the last day of my life. As I headed for home on foot with the crowds, when we again heard jets, heads went up searching the sky trying to pinpoint the sounds and where we should go. There was nowhere to hide, and I gained a realistic perspective of what it must be like for people living in war torn countries trying to escape bombs. Then the USAF fighter jets came into focus, and there was a collective cheer.
Some of what I took away from that day was a new sense of the expression “peace and quiet.” (NYC is a noisy city, but that evening, save for the occasional ambulance siren or the USAF flying cover, you could hear a pin drop. It was quiet, but there was no peace.) The worst of times can bring out the best in people. And, there is no such thing as an ugly day on weather alone without other considerations. We’re all human and have days when we sigh or complain. Yet, when I lived in NY and walked in the financial district, and I heard someone complain that it was a gray or rainy day, I swear I’d receive inspiration from the angel voices of those that perished nearby saying live, LIVE! Today is a great day!
Thank you, Kristin, for remembering and for providing the opportunity for this conversation. My heart goes out to all who were touched that day.
I was living in New York City, working in the financial district. Upon first news, I looked out my office window and stared at sheets of paper swirling across the skyline like confetti from a ticker tape parade and noticed window drapes landing on a rooftop. Then the roar! The sound of a jet moving 500 miles an hour only blocks from my office window, heading straight towards the south tower and exploding into a huge fireball. In an instant, hundreds of lives lost.
I truly thought this could possibly be the last day of my life. As I headed for home on foot with the crowds, when we again heard jets, heads went up searching the sky trying to pinpoint the sounds and where we should go. There was nowhere to hide, and I gained a realistic perspective of what it must be like for people living in war torn countries trying to escape bombs. Then the USAF fighter jets came into focus, and there was a collective cheer.
Some of what I took away from that day was a new sense of the expression “peace and quiet.” (NYC is a noisy city, but that evening, save for the occasional ambulance siren or the USAF flying cover, you could hear a pin drop. It was quiet, but there was no peace.) The worst of times can bring out the best in people. And, there is no such thing as an ugly day on weather alone without other considerations. We’re all human and have days when we sigh or complain. Yet, when I lived in NY and walked in the financial district, and I heard someone complain that it was a gray or rainy day, I swear I’d receive inspiration from the angel voices of those that perished nearby saying live, LIVE! Today is a great day!
We were at home in Healdsburg, that beautiful town Jean-Marc fell in love with, preparing our son for school. Our daughter, far away for her first year at college in upstate New York, called us with instructions to turn on the television, something she knew we never did in the morning.
As I recall, our son’s school did decide to open in order to bring the community together. A special assembly was held for parents and upper school students. The Headmaster spoke of the efforts the school would take to protect our children, yet he acknowledged that the world had changed in unaccountable ways. His pain, as he underscored the uncertainty of the future our children were facing, was palpable. His advice was to continue life, with love, with courage, and with thoughtful conversation.
Thank you, Kristin, for your eloquent beginning to this thoughtful conversation.
We were at home in Healdsburg, that beautiful town Jean-Marc fell in love with, preparing our son for school. Our daughter, far away for her first year at college in upstate New York, called us with instructions to turn on the television, something she knew we never did in the morning.
As I recall, our son’s school did decide to open in order to bring the community together. A special assembly was held for parents and upper school students. The Headmaster spoke of the efforts the school would take to protect our children, yet he acknowledged that the world had changed in unaccountable ways. His pain, as he underscored the uncertainty of the future our children were facing, was palpable. His advice was to continue life, with love, with courage, and with thoughtful conversation.
Thank you, Kristin, for your eloquent beginning to this thoughtful conversation.
MY DEAR KRISTIN,
YOU HAVE ARRIVED.!
MY DEAR KRISTIN,
YOU HAVE ARRIVED.!
I was scheduled to work the ticket counter that day, in Tulsa, Oklahoma, for American Airlines. The airport was closed and everyone was sent home, as the skies emptied and all flights were grounded. Several days passed before flights were allowed to operate again. Even though planes began flying, the cabins contained few passengers, as the uncertainty of further terrorist attacks remained in people’s minds. In spite of this horror, the airlines remained a passion for me and two years later I trained to become a flight attendant. I flew for the next 6 years, then retired, after more than 25 years in the airline industry. I was saddened by the events of Sept 11th and how passenger planes were used as terrorist weapons but I still believe that flying is the safest form of transportation and I will continue to find pleasure in every flight that I take.
I was scheduled to work the ticket counter that day, in Tulsa, Oklahoma, for American Airlines. The airport was closed and everyone was sent home, as the skies emptied and all flights were grounded. Several days passed before flights were allowed to operate again. Even though planes began flying, the cabins contained few passengers, as the uncertainty of further terrorist attacks remained in people’s minds. In spite of this horror, the airlines remained a passion for me and two years later I trained to become a flight attendant. I flew for the next 6 years, then retired, after more than 25 years in the airline industry. I was saddened by the events of Sept 11th and how passenger planes were used as terrorist weapons but I still believe that flying is the safest form of transportation and I will continue to find pleasure in every flight that I take.
Beautifully written….
I was visiting my sister in San Diego for her baby shower. That morning my sister came running into the guest room where I was still in bed and said, “We are under attack!” I innocently replied, “Do you mean your cat?” That naivety and sense of security was forever changed that horrific day. As others have said, it felt so surreal as we stared at the TV in pain and disbelief. Not knowing when flights would resume, I made the choice to rent a car in order to return home to Oregon. I think I rented one of the company’s last cars available in that area.
Healing began with the stories of the noble acts of selflessness, compassion and courage and continued with the extra consideration and kindness shown by strangers, for out of deep tragedy comes light. Thank you, Kristi, for inspiring this opportunity for remembrance.
Beautifully written….
I was visiting my sister in San Diego for her baby shower. That morning my sister came running into the guest room where I was still in bed and said, “We are under attack!” I innocently replied, “Do you mean your cat?” That naivety and sense of security was forever changed that horrific day. As others have said, it felt so surreal as we stared at the TV in pain and disbelief. Not knowing when flights would resume, I made the choice to rent a car in order to return home to Oregon. I think I rented one of the company’s last cars available in that area.
Healing began with the stories of the noble acts of selflessness, compassion and courage and continued with the extra consideration and kindness shown by strangers, for out of deep tragedy comes light. Thank you, Kristi, for inspiring this opportunity for remembrance.
Some remember September 11, (1973—50 years ago) as the day that Pinochet, supported by the U.S. government, overthrew the democratically elected government of Salvador Allende, with disastrous consequences—torture, imprisonment, disappearances— for many in Chile, even more than perished in NYC.
That also should be remembered on 9/11
Some remember September 11, (1973—50 years ago) as the day that Pinochet, supported by the U.S. government, overthrew the democratically elected government of Salvador Allende, with disastrous consequences—torture, imprisonment, disappearances— for many in Chile, even more than perished in NYC.
That also should be remembered on 9/11
Because of a small group of terrorists, the world changed that day. I’m so angry that our children and their children will always have fear in their lives. Daily life changed in Washington DC., probably more so than anywhere else in the country. You cannot enter any ( free) museum or public building without going through a metal detector and having the contents of your bag searched. There are policemen still standing outside all around the Capitol area, stopping any trucks larger than a van. Ugly concrete barricades went up in front of many buildings. And one of the worst things for me is being reminded of that horrific day every time there is a perfect, sunny, cloudless, crisp and cool day in september ( like today) because these days are rare here and treasured by many, and for the last 12 years forever linked with that terrible day.
I had just come home from taking our daughter to her second day of first grade. I was on the phone with my good friend Margaret who told me to turn my TV on. After the initial shock of watching the second plane hit , the announcer said the Pentagon had been hit and that the Capitol was the next possible target. I ran up the stairs to look out the skylight in our roof, and saw a long cloud of black smoke coming from that direction. Just then, 2 fighter planes flew over our building ( we are just blocks from the Capitol) and broke the sound barrier, which sounded like a bomb exploding in our back yard. I jumped so high I hit my head on the glass window.
That caused an hours-long episode of uncontrollable shaking in my body, aggravated by not being able to reach my daughter’s school or my husband by phone…a totally helpless feeling. It took me an hour to get there ( normally a 20 minute trip), and more than 2 to get home. People were spilling out of buildings and walking home, all public transportation was closed.It looked like a disaster movie, but it was real.
And there were no planes in the sky for many days, I see them from my kitchen window every few minutes normally.
It took a long time to realize that there were no more attacks coming. It seemed like forever before we could reach my family in NYC to make sure they were ok. Ever since that day I understand the physical fear that so many people around the world live with every day because of terrorism. The sense of deep loss is still so palpable after 12 years, and will probably remain with the generation that experienced it. I ‘m glad that ” le souvenir” will be kept alive for future generations as a warning to be vigilant. As always, thank you Kristi for your sensitive and insightful writing, and for providing this wonderful blog, judging by the responses of your readers, a very needed and helpful one !
Because of a small group of terrorists, the world changed that day. I’m so angry that our children and their children will always have fear in their lives. Daily life changed in Washington DC., probably more so than anywhere else in the country. You cannot enter any ( free) museum or public building without going through a metal detector and having the contents of your bag searched. There are policemen still standing outside all around the Capitol area, stopping any trucks larger than a van. Ugly concrete barricades went up in front of many buildings. And one of the worst things for me is being reminded of that horrific day every time there is a perfect, sunny, cloudless, crisp and cool day in september ( like today) because these days are rare here and treasured by many, and for the last 12 years forever linked with that terrible day.
I had just come home from taking our daughter to her second day of first grade. I was on the phone with my good friend Margaret who told me to turn my TV on. After the initial shock of watching the second plane hit , the announcer said the Pentagon had been hit and that the Capitol was the next possible target. I ran up the stairs to look out the skylight in our roof, and saw a long cloud of black smoke coming from that direction. Just then, 2 fighter planes flew over our building ( we are just blocks from the Capitol) and broke the sound barrier, which sounded like a bomb exploding in our back yard. I jumped so high I hit my head on the glass window.
That caused an hours-long episode of uncontrollable shaking in my body, aggravated by not being able to reach my daughter’s school or my husband by phone…a totally helpless feeling. It took me an hour to get there ( normally a 20 minute trip), and more than 2 to get home. People were spilling out of buildings and walking home, all public transportation was closed.It looked like a disaster movie, but it was real.
And there were no planes in the sky for many days, I see them from my kitchen window every few minutes normally.
It took a long time to realize that there were no more attacks coming. It seemed like forever before we could reach my family in NYC to make sure they were ok. Ever since that day I understand the physical fear that so many people around the world live with every day because of terrorism. The sense of deep loss is still so palpable after 12 years, and will probably remain with the generation that experienced it. I ‘m glad that ” le souvenir” will be kept alive for future generations as a warning to be vigilant. As always, thank you Kristi for your sensitive and insightful writing, and for providing this wonderful blog, judging by the responses of your readers, a very needed and helpful one !
On the subject of French remembering and memories, there is a beautiful synergy between the French and the Australians at the battlefields of WW1 in northern France, particularly the Somme. The French continue to be very special memory keepers for many Aussie boys who died there a very long way from home almost 100 years ago.
On the subject of French remembering and memories, there is a beautiful synergy between the French and the Australians at the battlefields of WW1 in northern France, particularly the Somme. The French continue to be very special memory keepers for many Aussie boys who died there a very long way from home almost 100 years ago.
All too beautiful and terrible – the sculpture from Roquemaure, and the stories of love and rememberance from 9/11. I can only remember standing in the shower when my husband told me about the first tower’s collapse, and the tears streaming down my face with the shower stream. You did the right thing by staying with your family in France, Kristin, but we know you love and treasure the U.S. too. Thank you for such a special post.
All too beautiful and terrible – the sculpture from Roquemaure, and the stories of love and rememberance from 9/11. I can only remember standing in the shower when my husband told me about the first tower’s collapse, and the tears streaming down my face with the shower stream. You did the right thing by staying with your family in France, Kristin, but we know you love and treasure the U.S. too. Thank you for such a special post.
Dear Kristin – it seems you have touched a very personal feeling in each of your readers. 9/11 will be in everybody’s mind who has witnessed that day, just like the day John F. Kennedy was shot in November 1963, a day which stands out in my memory like few others. We need to be aware just how precious life is.
Dear Kristin – it seems you have touched a very personal feeling in each of your readers. 9/11 will be in everybody’s mind who has witnessed that day, just like the day John F. Kennedy was shot in November 1963, a day which stands out in my memory like few others. We need to be aware just how precious life is.
We were on the cruise ship MS Statendam, docked in Ketchikan, Alaska. We were getting ready for our brief excursion in the salmon capital of the world when the captain broke the news, “We will be instituting additional security precautions today due to the attack on New York.” I leaped to turn on the TV in our cabin, “Attack on New York?” Moments after turning on the TV, we saw the horror of the second tower being hit. Needless to say, our excursion was delayed and our trip took on an entirely different tone. The Statendam was transformed from a collection of 500 disconnected strangers to a giant floating support group, with standing room only gatherings in the ship’s movie theater to watch the news reports and pray together for our loved ones and countrymen so far away. It was an amazing feeling of oneness as all the usual human barriers of politics, religion, and ethnicity melted away in the face of shared calamity.
We were on the cruise ship MS Statendam, docked in Ketchikan, Alaska. We were getting ready for our brief excursion in the salmon capital of the world when the captain broke the news, “We will be instituting additional security precautions today due to the attack on New York.” I leaped to turn on the TV in our cabin, “Attack on New York?” Moments after turning on the TV, we saw the horror of the second tower being hit. Needless to say, our excursion was delayed and our trip took on an entirely different tone. The Statendam was transformed from a collection of 500 disconnected strangers to a giant floating support group, with standing room only gatherings in the ship’s movie theater to watch the news reports and pray together for our loved ones and countrymen so far away. It was an amazing feeling of oneness as all the usual human barriers of politics, religion, and ethnicity melted away in the face of shared calamity.
I was sitting in my loungeroom on the Central Coast (New South Wales, Australia) and it was around 10pm as I was watching a movie.
Without warning, the transmission was interrupted with what I thought was another movie..I was so annoyed.
It took me ten minutes to realise that it wasn’t a movie, that what was happening in front of me was a live cross. I can remember every scene and for weeks afterwards, our televisions were bombarded with news and unsavoury pictures. The Falling Man (and images of others jumping to their deaths) particularly haunts me to this day.
To be honest, I don’t want to remember because remembering often means rehashing. I can understand why some people have stopped attending ceremonies. There is a time to let go and embrace what remains.
I look now on the new buildings on the old site, the surrounding parks and the unflappable attitude that defines New Yorkers and when 11th September comes around, this is what I think of instead.
Loved the story regarding your belle-mere. We have similar tales in our family. It is a different kind of remembering but a souvenir nonetheless. Merci.
I was sitting in my loungeroom on the Central Coast (New South Wales, Australia) and it was around 10pm as I was watching a movie.
Without warning, the transmission was interrupted with what I thought was another movie..I was so annoyed.
It took me ten minutes to realise that it wasn’t a movie, that what was happening in front of me was a live cross. I can remember every scene and for weeks afterwards, our televisions were bombarded with news and unsavoury pictures. The Falling Man (and images of others jumping to their deaths) particularly haunts me to this day.
To be honest, I don’t want to remember because remembering often means rehashing. I can understand why some people have stopped attending ceremonies. There is a time to let go and embrace what remains.
I look now on the new buildings on the old site, the surrounding parks and the unflappable attitude that defines New Yorkers and when 11th September comes around, this is what I think of instead.
Loved the story regarding your belle-mere. We have similar tales in our family. It is a different kind of remembering but a souvenir nonetheless. Merci.
I was in Indianapolis,Indiana working. Being born and raised in the Los Angeles area, I felt very alone and afraid that some family would be hurt. We were all safe but I had never realized how alone it felt to be without my family. My husband and I sat watching like everyone that evening knowing our families were safe and trying to understand it all.
And here it is 12 years later and my husband and I are back in California, not far from Healdsberg, Calif. We got a chance to move back here to the central coast and live near Santa Cruz. I will miss the Midwest but there is really something said for being with family….we live on my sisters property among the redwoods. I am near my children and sisters which I never thought I’d miss but realize its everything no matter where you are.
I was in Indianapolis,Indiana working. Being born and raised in the Los Angeles area, I felt very alone and afraid that some family would be hurt. We were all safe but I had never realized how alone it felt to be without my family. My husband and I sat watching like everyone that evening knowing our families were safe and trying to understand it all.
And here it is 12 years later and my husband and I are back in California, not far from Healdsberg, Calif. We got a chance to move back here to the central coast and live near Santa Cruz. I will miss the Midwest but there is really something said for being with family….we live on my sisters property among the redwoods. I am near my children and sisters which I never thought I’d miss but realize its everything no matter where you are.
We were getting ready to fly from Los Angeles back to France (where we lived for 12 years on an old barge)when our brother-in-law came into the room and said, “I don’t think you’re going anywhere” and we watched in horror as events unfolded. Several days later we flew on the first United plane out of LAX to Washington with crew who had been slated to make the return trip on one of the downed planes. They were amazing, telling all us passengers they were nervous and knew we were nervous, but we’d all get through it together. Spontaneous applause filled the plane when we landed. Next we were on the first plane out of DC to Paris, and the contrast was extreme, with a crew who had clearly been instructed not to acknowledge the situation, greeting us with fixed, false smiles. But it was amazing when we got to Paris — when the doors opened and we walked out into the airport, the way was lined with people, all of them clapping and cheering our arrival. For days, every French person who realized we were American offered words of sympathy and solidarity . . .
We were getting ready to fly from Los Angeles back to France (where we lived for 12 years on an old barge)when our brother-in-law came into the room and said, “I don’t think you’re going anywhere” and we watched in horror as events unfolded. Several days later we flew on the first United plane out of LAX to Washington with crew who had been slated to make the return trip on one of the downed planes. They were amazing, telling all us passengers they were nervous and knew we were nervous, but we’d all get through it together. Spontaneous applause filled the plane when we landed. Next we were on the first plane out of DC to Paris, and the contrast was extreme, with a crew who had clearly been instructed not to acknowledge the situation, greeting us with fixed, false smiles. But it was amazing when we got to Paris — when the doors opened and we walked out into the airport, the way was lined with people, all of them clapping and cheering our arrival. For days, every French person who realized we were American offered words of sympathy and solidarity . . .
I was out of town keeping a vigil at the bedside of my dying “belle Pere”. I saw the TV just as I got out of the hotel room bed. The TV’s were on everywhere in the hospital. As I mourned for those who died in NY, I felt guilty. I should be mourning Clem who passed just after the Twin Towers tragedy. When I sang at his funeral mass, I sang for him and all those I did not know.
I was out of town keeping a vigil at the bedside of my dying “belle Pere”. I saw the TV just as I got out of the hotel room bed. The TV’s were on everywhere in the hospital. As I mourned for those who died in NY, I felt guilty. I should be mourning Clem who passed just after the Twin Towers tragedy. When I sang at his funeral mass, I sang for him and all those I did not know.