Small things

I'm not a happy flier in any case but taking 3 flights on 9/11 wasn't my idea of fun.

I flew from LA on American Airlines flight 76 the night of 9/10/2001. The very same flight attendants that I had been so impressed with that evening perished the next morning. I could see the Pentagon burning from my bedroom window...

Anyway...my flights went well despite a couple of delays and I arrived back in DC to find my husband bouncing up and down in a very endearing way, complete with a rose for me. He had missed me immensely and I'd been gone just over two days.

As we exited the terminal, a huge roar hit us and we looked up and over in shock to see motorcycles...perhaps two hundred of them...driving around the dropoff area in a loop. The riders kept coming as we loaded my luggage in the car and exited the parking lot.

Just as we were about to turn off the airport road, two police cars stopped traffic and these motorcyclists rode by one by one. A good third of them had American flags and POW flags mounted on their bikes. Each one saluted or gave the police officers a thumbs up. When the procession ended, the police (I think they were airport police) joined the last stragglers and they all roared off toward the east, in the direction of DC or the Pentagon.

I cannot tell you the rush of emotions I felt at the sights and sounds...it was an indescribable feeling of thanks and of tribute in a time where current events have brought sadness and reflection together.