Thursday, July 07, 2005

London Calling

This morning I was running late to work.

I got a call at 6:45 a.m. from my father's nutty wife. She left a cryptic message on my cell phone to call my father back on their cell phone. No explaination, no nothing... So, of course, I go into panick mode because of how wierd she sounded and that they were calling me so early. They have been out of town for two weeks, traveling in their motorhome with their motorcycles on a trailer behind the RV. They went to explore the New England States and then up into Canada...it must be nice! Anyway, I call them back in my panick and was relieved to hear my Dad's cheery voice sounding just fine. I was glad nothing was wrong!

He said they'd be hitting my town in about 3 hours and wanted to swing by and pick up my son for the weekend. They were thinking of taking him to Oblivion Beach Which I remember traveling to as a child and loved visiting. Anyway, this is my son's weekend to go to his Dad's house, which I explained. They said, well, "see if he will switch you weekends so he could go with us". I hung up, called Julian's Dad and he wasn't home. By this time it was only 7 a.m. so I thought maybe he was still asleep. A few minutes later the phone rings, and it's his Dad calling me back. He said he just walked in the door from playing back-up guitar during a friend's performance at a local country radio station. (That's just not something you hear everyday and this was turing into a strange morning.) He agrees to switch weekends, I called my Dad back and told him everything worked out.

Now, I'm officially running really late... I hurried up and got Julian's bag packed with swim trunks, clothes, towel, toothbrush, etc. He got dressed, I was rushing around, on and on. After I got Julian dropped off at my Grandma's house (she babysits him during the day) I was headed to my office building when I heard the news on NPR about some explosions in London.

My heart sank... so similar to the morning of 9/11. I was running late to work on that morning too and heard the live broadcast from a NYC radio program of the planes hitting the towers.

This morning, in London, they just kept talking about explosions and no one was really saying how bad it was. I rushed into work and got online to see more news. So far they are saying about 40 people dead. Whenever something like this happens, I always wonder if any of the people who died felt any different when they got up that morning. Did they have any idea that this was there last few hours of life?

5 comments:

sttropezbutler said...

Indeed, I don't really know if today is any more sad than any other. The world's problems don't stop because foolish, uncaring people choose to express themselves by blowing up others. I've had my TV on for a couple of hours now, but will turn it off soon. As usual, the media begins to suck the life out of anystory with all the "attempts" to clarify the sitution. Onward...

Bent Fabric said...

It is a tragic event. One that leaves me sad and angry.

In a way I am not surprised. I just thought the next terrorist attack of that magnitude would once again be on U.S. soil.

Despite all the precautions taken by the National Security Department, I believe if there was to be another attack in the U.S. all the precautions taken would be in vain.

Anonymous said...

Sometimes the violence of this world leaves me numb, feeling like it is all beyond my control. It seems like the ultra-conservatives require a constant state of war to control us. Sometimes, I wonder about the other deaths that occur daily. There is the terrorism of economic disparity, the terrorism of AIDS, the terrorism of people being thrusted from their homes so some rich yuppie asshole can "discover" a neighborhood and make it a quint liitle gentryville. Terror is on all sides. An act of love and compassion is the bravest act you can do. If enough of us did it; we could defeat terror and fear.

The other me said...

I have to say that in my mind more than anything is the question about how if people left behind might be wishing they had done things differently. I wonder how many loved ones forgot to be nice to the people who died yesterday, I wonder how many people are wishing they had spent more time together instead of working, hurrying, neglecting? I hate it thet yesterday so many people were thinking that it was just another day and didn't grab the good things out of it before it was too late.
England will be fine, did you notice how calm everyone was? How KIND and caring everyone was? I saw over and over again strangers patting backs, holding hands, comforting each other.....terrorism never wins in the end does it?

Kat said...

I agree with the Other Me. The first time I went to Ground Zero and I am not more than a four hour drive, what I was struck by was not the site, though the tears poured down my face...and I was surprised by that, I really thought I had been almost I don't know shielded by the pain. I had watched the heartbreak, I had felt the pain for so long and had avoided ground zero like the plauge. When I got there it looked like a normal construction site, but I cried like a baby, the pain and the belief in them not dying in vain knows no boundaries.

But what impressed me was the Cathedral across the street. Well impressed is not the word, it blew my mind. The outpouring from the world, the coming together of totally disparate Americans who would usually cross the street away at sight of each other, the pure and unadulterated love that is as much of humanity as pure survival instinct are, it blew me away. The horror always reveals a beauty, I figure that someone brighter than I knows why. But I will just revel in the beauty revealed if I must endure the pain.
Kat