History

Twelve years ago, I was living in Philadelphia and working in Dover, De..  I am lucky to say that at that time I knew only one person directly affected by the events of that day.  I, like most people who lived or worked near the impacted areas of the country, have small stories of how the events touched our lives.  At the time I was living with a Philadelphia firefighter and I remember how angry and frustrated he was that could not go to New York to help.  While I have not been to the site of the WTC since that day, I am now reminded daily of the events of 9/11/01.
I have lived in Virginia for the past 9 years.  It is impossible not to know someone who worked in DC on that day.  Many will only talk briefly of the day, mostly of their attempts to get home to family; many will talk in detail about the events.  Since November I have been making the daily commute into the city.  For most of that time my contact with the Pentagon has been a bus that drops off at or near the bus bays and then crosses the Memorial Bridge by the Lincoln Memorial.  As we would travel on 27 past the side of the building where the 9/11 Memorial rests, near where the plane hit the building I would often wonder what it must have been like to be on that road when the plane hit or going past the scene in the weeks and months that followed.  In the past 6 weeks because I choose to slug to save money and the best place to catch a ride in the afternoon is at the Pentagon, I have become intimately familiar with that area.  Because it is supposed to be in the mid 90's today I decided I didn't feel like standing in the hot sun in the slug line so I took the bus - also because part of me really didn't want to be anywhere near the Pentagon on 9/11.  The bus I took this morning drops off at the Pentagon perimeter but then immediately returns to 395 to cross the 14th street bridge - the site of another plane crash albeit nearly 30 years ago.  However this morning there was an accident on the bridge that had things backed up so the driver made a loop around the Pentagon to go to the Memorial Bridge.  This took us very close to the section of the building into which the plane crashed.  Twelve years on you would never know that a portion of the outer rings of this massive office building had been destroyed.  The morning light was just so that you could barely discern the difference in the stone color - not that big of a deal around here considering the most visible monument in the city is two different colors due to its construction during the Civil War - War Between the States or War of Northern Aggression depending on your point of view - being temporarily halted.  It made me realize that there is a good portion of our population that has no memory of the most recent attack on our shores. 
Seniors in high school and freshman in college were barely school aged when this occurred and children below 5th grade have grown up in a post 9/11 world - it is all they know. The rest of us, however, remember when it was easy to get on a plane or to have a loved one meet you at the airport.  Trivial things I realize but unless you live or work in an area like DC that is one of the few daily reminders most now have of a post 9/11 world.  I too am a generation removed from a direct attack by a foreign government on American soil.  I was born 22 years after Pearl Harbor.  When I was young we would remember Pearl Harbor day, but only as a footnote in history, will the same thing happen to 9/11?  Others would argue this is different - Pearl Harbor was an act of aggression directed to a military installation as a means of gaining a foothold in the Pacific while the attacks on 9/11 were aimed not as an imperialistic act limited to a small area but as an attack on a way of life.  Now, 73 years later Pearl Harbor is barely mentioned - perhaps a wreath laying ceremony somewhere gets a short news blip, if there is time.  Will the same thing happen in 2074 on 9/11?  I believe this is different - this is something we should remember.  This happened because there are parts of the world in which Americans are hated.  Not because we sit quietly by and allow nations to work out their own issues, but because we feel we have to be involved it their problems, whether it is our business or not.  We aren't hated simply because we exist but because of our actions.  Does that justify what happened?  Not in the least - these people were extremists and frankly, insane.  However we need to be mindful of why it happened and make every effort to not make the same mistakes again.  We should not forget all the innocent people who died,the NYFD firefighters who lost their lives simply doing their jobs or the thousands of men and women now lying in graves or severely wounded because of the aftermath of these events.  But we should foremost keep in mind the words of George Santayana;  "Those who cannot remember the past..."
This was not intended to be a political statement but more my musings on living in an area so impacted by such a terrible act and how we should not allow it to become a brief footnote to history.

Walking to work.

Despite the fact that I am now working in the one place I have always wanted to work, getting up at 5:00 a.m. to make the commute north to DC is still a bit daunting.  I am awake at 5, I am out the door at 5:30 to go to one of two commuter lots near my home to wait in line for a free ride north to a Metro station.  Slugging in and of itself is odd, but I'll deal with the concept of slugging at another time.  I'm still not sure how I fell about that but every once in a while you get handed something that makes you remember how lucky you are.

This morning I actually got a ride to 12th and Independence which is across the Mall from my 'office'.  Still sounds weird referring to a national museum as my office.  When I say the Mall, I mean the big one that people come from all over the world to see; Capital building at one end, Lincoln Memorial on the other, Washington Monument in the middle and flanked by the Jefferson Memorial and the White House.  Now I used to work three blocks from the White House and never gave it much thought, expect when my bus was delayed at a traffic light for 40 minutes one night because of a presidential motorcade set to head north on 16th street.  Then I gave it a lot of thought - all negative - because I really wanted to get home before it was time to turn around and go to bed!  Anyway, I don't think a lot about the city in which I work - it's a city and I work there - but today was a bit different.  I was dropped off at 12th Street, grateful that I didn't have to take Metro and saved $2.10.  Then I headed across to my office. At that hour the only people around were joggers so I was in my usual morning fog; until I looked up and saw the Capital building to my right and the Washington Monument, covered in its lighted post-earthquake condom, to my left. 

I like to watch Bones, which supposedly takes place in Washington; technically we work in the same building though I'm glad the things that happen at the Jeffersonian don't happen where I work.  They use exterior DC shots in every episode.  Most of the shots are near where I have worked.  When I ride the bus I get it across the street from the Hoover Building.  Obviously the directors of Bones, unlike those of NCIS, think that making the DC connection is important to viewers.  These are also times when I realize the 'coolness' of where I work.  People come from all over the world to take in the history of this city and the items of historical significance contained in the museums surrounding my office.

I just have to keep reminding myself of that when I am trying to get out of the building where I work to get to Metro and I'm dodging tourists!

Reinventing Myself

It's been some time since I logged on here.  Something at which I know I should be more diligent.  Since last I wrote I started a new job, which I hate, and turned 50, about which I have mixed feelings.  Hitting the half century mark gives one an opportunity to evaluate their position in life.  With the exception of the 12 hours I spend commuting to and from work and being at work, which I lovingly refer to as hell, I like my life.  Funny I know since I spend 7 of the remaining 12 hours each day asleep.  I like where I live even if it does mean awful commute many days.  I have a good companion in Mojo, activities that I enjoy and good friends.  Now if I could only get the remaining 12 hours on track life would be great.

It has taken me a good part of my adult life to be able to say that.  I am after all half Italian.  If you ever asked an old Italian grandmother how they were feeling they might respond with - "not bad" but they would never say they were doing well.  To say that would be tempting the fates and call ill will upon them.  I have lived my life following that premise.  You don't want to be too happy for fear something bad will happen.  Ok, well life's too short for that.  That is where the reinventing myself comes in.

As was bound to happen eventually, I am one of the older people at my place of employment.  However, unlike centuries past I am not respected for my life experience but seen by the 12 year olds with whom I work as someone who knows little about which I speak.  I have spent the bulk of my career around children so I should be used to that.  Up to this point though, I have been the one in the position of seniority not the other way around.  Not so sure I like that.  Despite what I think often, I am told I have accomplished a lot in my life as far as my education and that it was very valuable.  I don't feel as if I have used that education to its maximum potential.  Hence the need to reinvent myself.  I need to take a hard look at my skills and put them out there to be used.  I have discovered I don't like working for an organization where profit is the bottom line.  I don't have nor have I ever wanted an MBA.  I have never desired to be on the Fortune 500 list and to me the Financial Times is just a pretty pink newspaper (is it even published anymore?)  I have to work somewhere where I am doing good for others not just the CEO. I work in a city with people who a full of their own self-importance.  Always knew that but it really hit home overhearing conversations on the street and on public transit.  While self worth might be important for my own mental health I am not about to broadcast it to others.  Everyone is equal in my eyes no one person more valuable than any other.  Now all I have to do is figure out how to best market my considerable skills and decide what I want to be when I grow up.