The Skies Fell Silent

Sixteen years ago on what was to become a world known date, I lived in Scottsdale, Arizona. Out for my morning run with my dog Nubble. At that time we’d run 10 miles on the foot path of the banks along the canal.

Halfway thru, another runner, a female quite upset, hollared across the water that a plane had crashed into a skyscraper in NYC. I even recall where I was on that canal and was headed south.

Another mile and a man echoed such an announcement but added the words “attacked” when he mentioned the other building.

I was in shock yet continued my run until it sank in. Then I turned to race home.

I thought of my daughter and her mother’s family. They had a cabin up north which I often did building and repairs. Pondered gathering them and heading to those mountains.

Once home, I was like most – attached to the TV in appalling disbelief. I remember I called a couple of my high school alumni and Omega Vector buddies that flew for the airlines to check on them.

The days unfolded like many others. I just recall how eerily empty the skies swiftly became silent.

Having celebrity and production connections, I began work on a PSA which would be celebs and authors encouraging returning to the sky. I feared for us giving in to fear to fly, fear to live.

I had commitments of brave celebs and authors – yet could not get any airline to fully commit.

But I remember the day I gave thanks with tears when I saw the first airline return to the blue sky.