Remembering

San Francisco, 2001. That year, we decided we would combine theatre and vacation, and take a play down to the SF Fringe festival (for which we won Best New Comedy, BTW). As part of our tourist duties, we ended up at the ruins of the Sutro Baths. This picture came from those ruins, one of my faves from that day.

We were in SF for 9/11 - the recent anniversary made me think about that crazy day. Four of us were crammed into a cheap hotel room, so when the phone rang, it awakened us all. It was S's boyfriend, three time-zones away and already glued to the TV. Still unaware, and obviously privy to only half the conversation, all we heard were exclamations: `Oh My God!', `That's terrible!!', `OH MY GOD!!!'. And then she hung up the phone, turned over, and went back to sleep. The rest of us were jarred awake, wondering what bad news was in store, until one of us finally had to demand an explanation. `Oh, some plane crashed into a building in NY'. !!!! CNN was immediately on the TV. We sat through live pictures of the second plane, and speculation that there was still another airliner headed for SF. A friend of ours arrived at the hotel shortly after, who flew in on the first flight from LA, and luckily made it without diversion. The day was spent in shock, wandering, watching televisions while having drinks in bars with the rest of the city. I wondered what problems we'd have as foreigners in the US, and looked up the address and phone number of the British Consulate, just in case. We saw the Stars and Stripes spring up everywhere, attached to anything. The rest of the week passed much as usual - the show went on, and so did our visits to Alcatraz, the Mission, and the rest of fabulous San Fran. I wasn't sure when and how I was going to get home, but cross-border flights were allowed on the day I was to leave, so I was able to get back to Canada without delay, and on my regularly scheduled flight. The airport was essentially empty; there were more FBI and police in the terminal than passengers.