Remembering 9/11

I was in Sicily on September 11, 2001.  We were scheduled to come home the next day and were having a farewell lunch with our dear friend Anna at Lorenzo's in Taormina.

About half way through our meal we noticed that people were huddled around a radio and the volume was louder than usual.  There was no TV in the restaurant.  The information coming through was sketchy and confused, but it didn't take very long to figure out that something very bad had happened.

We spent much of the rest of the day trying to piece together the facts.  When we went to the airport the next day we still didn't know much.  No way would we be able to fly home.  We could get to London, but no further.  Fortunately, we had friends in London who could house us until the world settled down a bit.

This was a Wednesday, and it was in London that for the first time we saw pictures of what had happened.  We were in London for five days and then got a flight to San Francisco.  Like everyone, we were shocked.  The ride home was a somber affair.

As we taxied up to the gate at SFO, which would complete our trip home, outside were groups of people holding "Welcome Home" signs and American flags.  This expression of friendship and solidarity moved me to tears.  It does again as I write these words.