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Hodgepodge from The Geranium Farm

Debbie Sharp Loeb, teacher by training but full-time mom to a disabled son, craftsperson, bead artist, great cook, creative homemaker & terrific spotter of cool new products for everything under the sun, presents Hodgepodge: recipes, household hints, stories about children, friends & relatives, cool stuff, music, & much more.

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Monday, September 11, 2006


Because we don't live that far from New York City over the years people from other areas have asked me what was it like on 9/11.

The first plane had hit just before I went to put David on his bus for school. Right away I called my friend Diane. Was her husband Doug OK? I knew he worked in the city. Was he in the towers? No, he was away on business in New Orleans, but had he not gone away he would have been at a meeting there.
I put David on the bus. His driver Joan's brother is a street vendor at green market on Tuesdays and Thursdays on the plaza out front of the twin towers. It turned out he was still there as the second tower was struck. Later she hears from his wife around noon that he’s okay. He said he saw a sign pointing north and that's where he headed his van. He wound up crossing over the Tappanzee Bridge. When he got back to the bakery around 6pm he was unloading his truck and came across an itinerary from someone who was aboard one of the planes. (She doesn’t know if he was able to get it back to the family.)

All day I sat in front of the TV watching the horror unfold, in a place that's only an hour away. Paul and I had one of our anniversary dinners at Windows on World restaurant at the top of the North Tower of the World Trade Center when we were first married.
In the days that followed it seemed that everyone was either touched by or knew someone that had been affected by this tragedy. A student in school where Paul teaches, father was killed. More and more you heard stories.
For a time there were no planes in the sky other than the military. I remember once when we were on our way home from the city I was counting the planes headed for Newark airport for a landing, so many, not now though. It doesn’t seem that there are as many as there ever once were.
In the days of the aftermath everything seemed numbingly surreal.
For the weeks and months that followed collections were taken up in schools, churches, and fire houses for needed items. People came from everywhere to aid in recovery efforts.
It was never off your mind with stories constantly unfolding on TV and the newspapers.
Now, five years later there are still stories to be told.

Copyright © 2006 Deborah Sharp Loeb


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