Yesterday was a day fraught with memories; however, because I was in the process of moving my computer operation from one room to another, I was off line most of the day, hence will record my thoughts a day late.
Nine years ago yesterday on a beautiful Saturday in September my daughter, Cam, married Tim Chennault here in Clinton. Then on their second anniversary, Carole was going to rent a van for her company and attend a convention on the coast, while I planned to travel to Plantersville to take my mother to the doctor.
I awoke at my usually time and turned on the computer; a news flash on my home page reported a plane had struck one of the World Trade Towers in New York; I turned on CNN just in time for us to see the second plane hit. Still in shock, I took Carole to the rental place to pick up the van, and while I waited in the car listening to the radio as Carole was inside filling out paper work, the Pentagon was struck. We filled up the van and my car with gas, but canceled both our trips sitting in front of the television all day and night. Cam called saying they had reservations at one of the finest restaurants in Jackson and should they go; you have to eat, I said, and sitting at home watching the towers fall over and over won't bring them back. The road between their house and the restaurant normally heavily traveled was eerily void of traffic. There were only six or eight others in the restaurant, all out- of-towners stranded when the airport shut down.
Carole's convention did not meet, but I drove to Plantersville the next day. Mother and I ate at Estes that night where we saw Billy and Louzelle Francis and a couple they had known from the service who were visiting. Louzelle died only about a month later and Billy, too, has died.
How much has changed in seven years.
Last night, Carole stayed with Carly while the kids went out to eat.
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