Those that know me well have probably heard my opinions about New York City. While the big apple is glamorous, bustling and full of life, I would never ever want to live there -- at least not for foreseeable future, that is.
I will, however, gladly visit and hop on the train for a work gig.
This past Tuesday -- after many Amtrak delays -- I headed up to NYC to film two different stories for the USO. While I just don't have the time and the energy to talk about one of the projects tonight, I will share the other project I did, which is already completed!
Ladies and gents, I give you my video about the USO center opening at JFK:
It's crazy to think that for over ten years there wasn't a USO presence at any NYC or New Jersey airport. Maybe its because I'm an employee, or just an observant person, but I've gotten quite accostumed to hearing the "The USO lounge..." announcements in most major airports.
It's kinda comforting isn't it?
Showing posts with label remember. Show all posts
Showing posts with label remember. Show all posts
Thursday, September 18, 2014
Thursday, September 11, 2014
An Essay: A flashback to the fifth grade and September 11, 2001
This a personal essay reflection on my memories from 9/11/2001.
I was sitting in my 5th grade classroom when my teacher started crying.
I remember that she left the classroom and returned with wet eyes. She told us to sit down and read us a story about America, not telling us why we were starting our day with a story instead of following our normal routine.
We kept asking what was wrong. She never told us what. I thought maybe a family member had died.
Down the hall, the middle schoolers weren't gossiping in the halls.
Instead, they moved like zombies from classroom to classroom, the muffled noise of newscasts buzzing in the background. They weren't allowed to tell the elementary school kids what they were spending all day watching. But we knew they weren't doing anything in their classes.
Something felt eerily wrong.
During history, Melissa's mom stood crying outside Mrs. Murat's door. She pulled Melissa into the hallway. They both returned in tears.
By lunchtime, people's parents were calling them to leave. One by one, people were called to the office. I was content coloring signs and reading a book.
Near the end of the day someone told me there was a plane accident, or at least that's what they heard, anyway. Travis said something about a "pentagon" and Washington, D.C. ... but Melissa was from New York. Huh?
One of what anyone said --- kid or adult --- made much sense that day.
. . .
When my mum picked me up from school, she asked me if I'd heard, and I said I had, without really knowing what it was that I was saying I knew. We usually never listened to the news on the way home, but that day we did.
Slowly, it started to all make sense.
It turns out, I did know what the World Trade Center buildings were thanks to my sister's love of classic Christmas movies. In Home Alone 2, in the scene where my favorite Christmas tune is playing in the background, there's a long, panoramic shot of the two, gigantic buildings jetting from the skyline.
I never knew the "World Trade Center" is what they were called. I wondered why were they called a "center" when there were two separate buildings.
. . .
I had never watched the news much growing up. I thought it was boring and my parents thought the stories were too violent for me to regularly watch.
But that day, I remember watching that plane fly into the second tower over. And over. And over.
Graphics reading: "America under attack!"
The debris. The dust. Got bless America. Congress waved flags in the air.
By the time they started showing images of people jumping, I remember my mum tried to get me not to watch. I was just a kid. Only 10. She didn't want to make me upset.
But Jaci was watching. And so was dad. And she didn't feel like fighting. So she just let me sit there a few more minutes with everyone else.
. . .
That night I went to bed feeling antsy. It didn't seem like a good time to sleep. Why did those people do that to us? Why were all the adults so scared? Everyone seemed upset.
I didn't understand.
As the T.V. sounds clicked off and the house grew still, I listened to the sounds of the train that my parents thought was too far away for me to hear whistle in the distance.
Meanwhile, fighter pilots flew overhead, heading towards Pasadena.
###
I was sitting in my 5th grade classroom when my teacher started crying.
I remember that she left the classroom and returned with wet eyes. She told us to sit down and read us a story about America, not telling us why we were starting our day with a story instead of following our normal routine.
We kept asking what was wrong. She never told us what. I thought maybe a family member had died.
Down the hall, the middle schoolers weren't gossiping in the halls.
Instead, they moved like zombies from classroom to classroom, the muffled noise of newscasts buzzing in the background. They weren't allowed to tell the elementary school kids what they were spending all day watching. But we knew they weren't doing anything in their classes.
Something felt eerily wrong.
During history, Melissa's mom stood crying outside Mrs. Murat's door. She pulled Melissa into the hallway. They both returned in tears.
By lunchtime, people's parents were calling them to leave. One by one, people were called to the office. I was content coloring signs and reading a book.
Near the end of the day someone told me there was a plane accident, or at least that's what they heard, anyway. Travis said something about a "pentagon" and Washington, D.C. ... but Melissa was from New York. Huh?
One of what anyone said --- kid or adult --- made much sense that day.
. . .
When my mum picked me up from school, she asked me if I'd heard, and I said I had, without really knowing what it was that I was saying I knew. We usually never listened to the news on the way home, but that day we did.
Slowly, it started to all make sense.
It turns out, I did know what the World Trade Center buildings were thanks to my sister's love of classic Christmas movies. In Home Alone 2, in the scene where my favorite Christmas tune is playing in the background, there's a long, panoramic shot of the two, gigantic buildings jetting from the skyline.
I never knew the "World Trade Center" is what they were called. I wondered why were they called a "center" when there were two separate buildings.
. . .
I had never watched the news much growing up. I thought it was boring and my parents thought the stories were too violent for me to regularly watch.
But that day, I remember watching that plane fly into the second tower over. And over. And over.
Graphics reading: "America under attack!"
The debris. The dust. Got bless America. Congress waved flags in the air.
By the time they started showing images of people jumping, I remember my mum tried to get me not to watch. I was just a kid. Only 10. She didn't want to make me upset.
But Jaci was watching. And so was dad. And she didn't feel like fighting. So she just let me sit there a few more minutes with everyone else.
. . .
That night I went to bed feeling antsy. It didn't seem like a good time to sleep. Why did those people do that to us? Why were all the adults so scared? Everyone seemed upset.
I didn't understand.
As the T.V. sounds clicked off and the house grew still, I listened to the sounds of the train that my parents thought was too far away for me to hear whistle in the distance.
Meanwhile, fighter pilots flew overhead, heading towards Pasadena.
###
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