I sat in the lobby of the Los Angeles Marriott watching the disaster unfold in New York, Washington and Pennsylvania. The next night, I began a 3000 mile journey in a world without air travel. We left Los Angeles on the train under cover of darkness bound for the Crescent City. Over the next three days, I met people from all over the nation. Those are the people I think of today. The man and his wife, the Pearsons, from South Carolina who asked if they could call their son on my phone. Bill, the geneaologist from Metairie coming back from Texas. The girl from the art institute, Sarah, who drew portraits of all of us. The staffing agent from Baltimore, Jim and the Art Professor Emeritus from NYU, Peter, that shared the car from New Orleans to Washington.
We drove into Washington on a perfect autumnal sunday morning almost a week later, watching the flags ripple from the Capitol, from the Senate office buildings. We knew we were going to be just fine.
This post appeared in its original form at DC Metblogs