September 10, 2006 found me in Reno, NV waiting for flight to Washington DC. I'd made the reservations to avoid a rushed day today - 9/11.
I was joined by thousands of other travelers while we waited for air traffic control delays in Chicago to clear. While sitting waiting I overheard several conversations:
"I just couldn't bear the thought of flying on 9/11. I mean, what if they do it again?"
Indeed. Then I heard:
"The idea is just spooky."
A flight attendant commented:
"I don't get the chooice."
As I sat there, my flight delayed, and my connection probably taking of without me, I thought "so what?"
What's the difference of flying on 9/11, 7/4, 11/24, 12/25, 1/1 or any other day? As for me, I think that if someone is determined enough there's no security tight enough to stop them. So I'll just take my chances and fly.
My flight? Well, I flew into Washington DC at 2:45 AM on 9/11. We landed on the short runway. The one that overflys the Pentagon. As I looked down I thought to myself that life indeed is a tenuous thing.