Sunday 11 September 2011

9/11

To coin a phrase, it was one of those 'once-in-a-lifetime' moments . . . but you can't class a day as a moment? Or can you? I was in Germany that week, staying with relations near Hanover.
We'd spent the best part of three hours assembling a black ash computer desk for the kids, using the instructions which consisted of just line graphics with a few words of Italian . . . but we finished the task, and with a sense of accomplishment, cracked open a couple of well-deserved beers. As we raised our bottles, Stuart came in, with the seemingly unrelated words "Quick . . . TV . . . two planes . . . Sky". On went the TV, followed by what must have been 30 minutes of stunned silence . . . and the rest, as they say, is history. Has that really been 10 years today? Time is both our friend, and our enemy . . . God rest all those who perished that day.

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