When I remember 9/11, I mostly remember the fear I felt, wondering how I would protect my family because no one knew who would be the next target. My husband's chemical plant? Brandon's football coaches held practice, believing the boys were better off on the football field than home watching TV. Our priest, whose sister worked at the World Trade Center, offered a special mass. After hours of worry, his family learned his sister was safe. I still have a copy of his homily.
Why this picture? Because of a story I heard from a tour guide: A visibly shaken young Black man on one of her tours after another national emergency said he was looking for a place of peace and this plantation, where he had grown up, was the most peaceful place he knew. They were poor, there was racism and life was tough, but there were also open fields where kids could play and bayous were kids could fish and a loving community to protect them.
In years past 9-11 has only seemed to be briefly mentioned. But this year it's much more prominent. I'm glad because if we don't remember this, it will mostly likely happen again. I'm sure that mass was very meaningful. Good shot!
