"in my little town, I grew up believing God keeps his eye on us all" Paul Simon
I don't think I heard about it until some time after 9/11, that one of our classmates was working in one of the buildings in New York city on that fateful day and never returned home. His cousin, a Reading fireman, raised funds to create a lovely memorial in his honor on the 10th anniversary at our high school.
Many people donated funds to make this a lovely reflecting park. Maybe it will just turn into an after-school hang out. Maybe the band kids will rest their instruments on it, maybe the benches will get some soda spilled on it at some point and the shiny newness of the granite will get rubbed away. But that's ok. That's what will break it in and soften it at bit.
Many classmates from the mighty Class of '78 came together yesterday morning. Some traveled quite far. The ties that bind, the thread that does unify us surprises me still.
He was just a cute boy that was in my homeroom class in middle school. I remember he wore corduroys and a leather belt and had a great smile. He grew up and had a family and what happened to him is the stuff nightmares are made of and I think what shook all of us about 9/11 is that it wasn't a "distant" trauma. Especially in the Northeast, the tentacles stretched very far and while we cannot bear to imagine what they went through, it does give comfort to be able to be present to honor them.
Owner of too many decorating magazines to count, love outdoor spaces, my pergolas, my gardens. Photog for 20 years and see life literally through a lens...elevating my life through painting, classes, cake recipes and frosting, fondant and country music. If Jason Aldean needs a baker on tour, I'm gone.