Last To Fall. Recalling Sept 11, 2001

If we're old enough, we probably all remember the moment when "it" happened. Along with the memory of 9/11,  I often go back and think about the evening before. My son's father was on his way through town and stopped for a short visit. The  three of us sat in the back yard. The sun was at that perfect 'magic hour' angle. We shared some wine, a few laughs and he was on his way.
I often think back to those couple of hours and think: little did we know that while we were doing something so simple and everyday, on the other side of the continent a dozen religious fanatics were embedded in their Boston hotel rooms, planning their heinous wake up call for America.

Last to Fall
Mixed Media on Linen
28 x 40

It was a beautiful September morning. And then in flash, it wasn't.

 My one and only 9 -11 inspired piece.

 I painted this upside down which seemed appropriate to me. 
My style  isn't typically representational, but this one kind of turned out that way. 
After it was done, I saw the twin towers as clear as that sunny September day.
* If you ever had the opportunity to walk through the World Trade Centre plaza you might remember the slightly gothically inspired arches at ground level looked. Quite lovely.

Plaza of World Trade Centre 

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On the evening of September 11, 2001, I sat at my computer, wrote down my thoughts about the day's  bewildering events, and fired it off to the Vancouver Sun. This short piece appeared in the paper 2 days later.

 Defining Moments

November 22, 1963.

 I was 4 1/2 years old. 

That day, my mother turned 40, and the president of the United States was murdered.

 It's my earliest memory.

 There was a gathering of my parents' friends at our home that weekend, and I recall wondering why the guests  at a birthday party appeared so sad. I remember looking up at my mother as she prepared food for her guests and just asking, "Why?"

 Through her tears, she explained the situation in Dallas, and that the president of the United States was dead.

  I will never forget that moment, and that time in our family's life. We grieved.

 Early Tuesday morning, as my soon-to-be-13-year-old son and I watched with disbelief the events unfolding in New York and Washington, I remembered that day and thought he, and so many other kids of his generation, in years to come will ask  one another, "So, where were you, when New York came tumbling down?"