Today, September 11, marks 22 years since the attacks on America. I'm certain, you can recall minute details like, where you were, what you were doing, news clips, and the way you felt so angry, so helpless, so victimized, that very same night. And while it will haunt us all for the rest of our lives, what I witnessed that next day (September 12) was enough to surpass my grief, and all the trauma that had now filled my mind, my body, my spirit. Now, in my 64 years, I've definitely been in some precarious positions and I can honestly say, I've even cheated death a time or two, but nothing, and I mean nothing could have prepared me for the horror, I would witness the next morning.
I was sitting at my desk at work, my mind was still reeling from the events of the day before. Everyone in the office seemed distant, and the room was unusually silent. Right around 7:45, the whole office was filled with a terrible crashing sound! I could hear metal scraping, and everyone stood up and ran to the exit to seek the horrific noise we had just heard. Just as I got to where I could see the road, I heard a woman's blood curdling scream. Two cars were dead in the middle of the road, one, T-boned on the driver's side, right behind the driver door the other, still frozen right where the two cars collided. Both drivers were unconscious, the scream was from the passenger's seat. As I neared the vehicles, the woman opened her door and ran around the car, all the time screaming, "Gilbert! Gilbert! Gilbert!" Her guttural, ear piercing cries, completely filled with fear and utter agony. I still hadn't connected the dots, then I got to the car. We both reached the rear, broken window about the same time, only this time, it was as if her wails had reached a new intensity. I peered into the window to see the lifeless body of a small boy, strapped into his car seat. His little head, slumped forward, and his beautiful green eyes, still open. Suddenly, I looked up, and the driver (guessing it was the father) opened his door and fled. In a flash, he was gone, all the onlookers were transfixed, staring at the now insanely shocked mother, myself included. So today, I dedicate this blog to Gilbert. I'm guessing you'd be around 27 now. I'll never forget you little guy. And to his mother, my heart will never be free of the grief I feel when I think of your own. Peace all, be grateful for those you love this day. For one day, we will all attend the funeral of everyone who dies before us. And one day, our own funeral will be held. As for the dude who ran? My one and only comfort is knowing the Karma is real.
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