Tuesday, September 9, 2014

September 10th, 2001

September 10th, 2001 was a Monday. I had scheduled a day off a couple of weeks in advance, and we had made plans to go canoeing. The perfection of the day was breathtaking.

A Carolina blue sky, a light breeze, afternoon temperature in the low 80s. We put in at the landing in the primitive camping area in Goose Creek State Park. The marsh grass and trees were showing some signs of fall. The creek runs up through the park becoming narrower as it goes. We slowly picked our way along, stopping to look at birds and wildflowers. When we got to a point where all we could do was turn around, we paddled back out.

 Going past the landing, we paddled out into the Pamlico Sound. The breeze was in our faces, so it was slow going, but the water was calm enough for the canoe. We paddled almost all the way across, enjoying the exertion. When we turned around it was a fast run back to the creek, 20 minutes to cover what had taken a couple of hours going out.

We sat in the sun on the landing and ate and talked. After we loaded the canoe on the truck and started home, she fell asleep. I remember it so clearly because it was the last day of the old world. A carefree, gentle day on the water, shared with a fine woman. There will never be another day like it in my lifetime.


scipioamericanus said...

Your vacation from work, the world's vacation from history.

We will yearn after those days ever more poignantly in the coming years.

I was 12 when that age ended. I sometimes wish it could have held on for at least a few more years, though that's just the nostalgia of a dreamer for the half-remembered dream.

Mine will be the generation of grasping the nettle. Or not.

Borepatch said...

Even in the mid 1990s I thought that Francis Fukuyama was an idiot.

Goober said...

I was 21 years old, in college, and living with the future Mrs. Goober in a duplex in a small college town in Washington State.

I didn't have class until 10 am, so I slept in that day. My alarm woke me up to the news reports of the incident happening.

I was in the school of engineering and architecture, and one of my professors was a world-renowned forensic engineer, so I was torn between rushing in to see what he was doing and what his thoughts were on the (at the time) one damaged building.

I got dressed and rode my motorcycle to campus. I went to the lounge of the SoEaA and watched the reports with my classmates, in horror as the second plane crashed into the second tower, and even more so as they both, one by one, collapsed into rubble.

I had only three years before been denied military service due to health issues, so I knew that I couldn't join up and so anything about it.

I would have, though. Three of the men who sat with me in that hall that day DID join in the aftermath. I have no idea where they are today, but that event almost certainly had a profound impact on their lives.

ASM826 said...


That post is coming. This post was the day before.