Nine Mile Hill was sunny as I crested into the valley of the Rio Puerco. I pulled off the Interstate where the “Grapes of Wrath” bridge is preserved as a monument to old Route 66. Finding a pay phone, I called on my government card to Gallup, then my office, then on my personal card to home. After a few rounds of calls it became clear that the meetings in Gallup were canceled for being utterly pointless under the circumstances and I was needed back in my office as supervisor because the government was going into emergency mode.
The stress and strain on me had its effect. I was not harmed nor lost any loved ones as so many had in the country. Yet it affected us all. . . .
. . . . That was written a few months after it all happened. We've been through a lot since. Recently, I read a commemorative piece that I found to be shockingly stark and honest. I don't always agree with Jeffry Goldberg, but this one struck home. That's the whole problem. The events of 9/11 struck home.