Coming home from radiation, we passed a big ol’ bus from The Brotherhood Ride en route to NYC for the 10th anniversary of 9/11. Being so wound up in breast cancer I forgot what else was on the calendar in two days. The Brotherhood Ride bus is my photo today in honor of what our first responders do, and what they gave up for NYC, the Pentagon, etc. As we passed the bus/motorcoach we saw an honor guard of sorts – some of our volunteer fire fighters with their trucks on the side streets – a visual salute as The Brotherhood Ride went by in my opinion. Very moving.
Do you remember where you were when the twin towers came down? I do. I told New York Magazine as part of a 9/11 survey a few years ago – Tears just started to run down my face as I sat in my car in my then suburban office garage – I knew. In 1993, I was working on Wall Street as a sales/trading assistant for a muni bond house called Gabriele Hueglin & Cashman (then part of what was at that time Tucker Anthony), and I had just walked out of the World Trade Center shopping concourse with my office friend, Deidre, and we were headed back to the office from our lunch hour. All the memories of THAT day — the eerie stillness right after the noise (which at first we didn’t know what had happened – it was so fast) , the ashes that looked like snow came flooding back. As soon as the news broke I said to myself “oh no, they came back to finish 1993.”
From 1993 I remember the ground shook. We were standing out in front of the World Trade Center facing Century 21. The ground shook, and then there was an eery stillness and dead silence. And then one by one like weird church bells, car alarms went off. We went back to our office at 44 Wall not knowing what had happened. We soon found out.
I wrote a column for a local paper in 2006 at the 5th anniversary of 9/11 and I am sharing that now via this link. (unfortunately I have discovered sometimes SCRIBD and wordpress don’t interact well) We’re a long time dead, people, remember that. And remind me as I fight the next inner battle with myself over Tamoxifen. I am scared of the drug and scared of the alternative.
But the upshot is two days after the 10th anniversary of 9/11 I have a personal milestone – the end of radiation. Wow. I am a survivor.
And a note to President Obama: stop playing games with the American people. Pretty words and a wordy jobs bill and a lil’ kumbaya ain’t fixing the economy. And you need to get back to some of those pretty words about healthcare and health insurance in this country. Your speech made me nauseous.