Today’s scheduled post will be delayed by one day, to account for the breaking news of Osama bin Laden’s reported death. I lived in New York during 9/11, and it was days before I was moving back down South. Alone in my Ft. Greene apartment, alerted to the first strike by the Today Show, stunned that the world had just fundamentally changed. I remember the confusion and chaos of that day, the shredded office papers that littered a park in Brooklyn, so completely out of place, and the unbelievably acrid smell.
Unsure of what would happen next, I sat alone in my apartment, with everything I owned packed up around me, listening to dozens of planes landing at JFK and La Guardia, fighter jets overhead, waiting. One thing I wasn’t doing—eating. Finally, a friend came to accompany me into the city to retrieve my laptop from my office. We took the N/R, I think, going underneath the chaos and destruction. When we got back to Brooklyn, he took me to a diner and I ate a BLT, the only thing I thought I could stomach.
BLT’s are on the menu tonight, as planned in advance. Oddly appropriate. Comfort food that appeals when nothing else does, when I can barely make myself chew.
Not my usual topic or tenor, which I will return to tomorrow. Just taking a moment to think about the significance food plays in the highest and lowest moments of our lives, the memories formed. Today my thoughts and prayers are with everyone who was impacted by 9/11, peace be with you.