I’m working late here in the office this September 11th evening. It was a funky day, seven years after the big attack on our country. I was wall to wall all day with appointments, and the phone rang constantly. I finally gave up on the phone. I just could not keep up. I don’t think that’s ever happened before. Strangely, only about one caller in ten actually leaves a message. I have managed to call most of them back, but I really wonder about the others. If it was important enough to call in the first place, then why no message?
I have to share this with you all. While September 11th is a sad anniversary, so is September 10th. On that day in 1897 a taxi driver in London, England, became the first person in the world ever to be arrested for drunk driving — after slamming his vehicle into a building.
If I at all can I would like to get to the north shore for a peek at some fall colors. I might run away and try it this weekend. I’m up to date with most of my work. I can’t keep up with the calls in any event, and staying home would not fix that. These are the most desperate times I have seen in my lifetime; but I’ll be able to help more people if I take care of myself. I keep telling my kids: when the plane loses pressure and the oxygen masks come down, put the mask on yourself first. Then put the mask on your children or others who are in your care. The person who is first to pass out is no longer able to help others.