Traffic

An immediate aftermath of 9/11 was the government order that every plane in the air seek the nearest airport and land. Any plane in the sky was liable to be shot down. Some will remember the eeriness of those days when the skies over America were silent and still. It was a difference in sensory versus physical transition, when phasing was not just a realization, but real. Like a vacuum marking everything changing. Nonchalance to terror. More to fear than fear itself. Peace to war and no return, no going back to Monday, 9/10. 

June 25, 1950, I remember where I was. 

April 12, 1945, I remember where I was.

November 23, 1963. I remember where I was.

December 7, 1941. Shock followed by physical phasing, automobile manufacturing plants from cars to tanks. 

August 6, 1945. If you are there and survive the flash, realization is as real as reality. 

Holy Saturday.

Is the phasing done? Instead of dead silence, nothing moving, cars are stopping and going on Beck Avenue, St Andrews, Florida. The traffic lights rejoice, they have their job back.

I'm wondering if it will be as that professor prophesied, "Americans always say 'This changes everything' but it never changes anything". 

For relief to start marking the end of the transition, we are doing something every day. MWF walk. TThS ride, go for a drive. On Tuesday's drive we saw Americans, real ones. Laughing and talking, some busy, others waiting. Americans: what a great thing.

What can't I wait for? at Golden Corral, walking to my table by the back window, with a plate of fried chicken livers smothered in dark brown gravy.

RSF&PTL
W