I Wish It Were Raining This Morning

It rained last night here in Connecticut. I live in a small rural town almost 100 miles from Manhattan. Still, I’m reminded this morning of that terrible blue sky morning 19 years ago. I remember exactly where I was when the first plane went into the North Tower of The World Trade Center at 8:46 a.m.

I was sitting in my car listening to NPR’s Morning Edition on the radio, drinking coffee, marking time before going to a meeting at an Attorney’s office. The radio report blanked out with dead air; I found myself being annoyed about the interruption as I was listening intently to the reporter. The local announcer came back a moment later saying, “We have an unconfirmed report that a small aircraft has crashed into the World Trade Center.”

This morning, I took my coffee outside, stood in front of my house and looked up at the blue sky off to the west. There was a slight haze, a remnant of the overnight rains, but mostly today looked very much like that morning in 2001. That day was a spectacular late Summer day; crystal clear blue skies and the perfect warmth you don’t always get in New York City.

I don’t want to be reminded of that day. I wish it were raining this morning. I wish it would rain every September 11th so I don’t have to remember the beauty of the weather and the horror of the moment.