Saturday, September 11th in NYC is a special day. The weather was eerily similar to the weather on that fateful day 9 years ago. Sunny, mild, not a cloud in the sky.
A pall is cast over the city. It is palpable. You don't have to turn on the television to know that the mood is more subdued.
Catholics give up treats for Lent as a gesture of sacrifice. I skipped breakfast today as a sacrifice to those who were directly impacted by the tragedy. We all know someone who was. A friend of mine lost his brother, another lost his brother-in-law. I, myself, was scheduled to be on the American flight to California to shoot a television commercial, but my NYC-based ad agency was late getting the bids from the directors so it delayed the production. Fate.
Even the rink venue was touched by 9/11. Chelsea Piers was the designated "morgue" for the victims of the World Trade Center. Large area, cold interior.
When we left the rink, we drove around until we could see the beams of light representing the World Trade Center buildings. We said a prayer and drove on.
Today was not about trivial things like my food journal.
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