This was going to be a fabulous day. Six of us who wanted to be famous writers were going into NYC to the NYRWA chapter's annual wine and cheese party in the heart of Manhattan. We'd hired a luxury van and driver to take us there, wait for us and bring us back home to New Jersey.
I had a new outfit, really "writerly" as I thought successful writers wore a specific over the top but not bizarre style. I did my hair and sprayed it solid. There were going to be agents and editors there and it would be like shooting fish in a barrel. Surely an editor would love my pitch and beg me for my manuscript.
(Do not have photos of the others who were to go with us. The above portrait is of Caridad Pineiro who was working in the city and would meet us there. Pictured with me are Kathye Quick and Patt Mihailoff.)
The world turned upside down.
New York would go blank for weeks.
So many people died.
I had forgotten about our trip into the city....something so bloody important to me on that morning...died in the ashes of the Trade Center, the Pentagon and that lonely field in Pennsylvania.
The shadow is still hanging over us.