What We Find When We Look

In a moment of googling myself—I love seeing how weirdos have taken articles I’ve written and ripped them apart, etc., it’s a guilty journo pastime—I have rediscovered a chilling website: my university had set up a “check-in” site after 9/11, for all alums to post who was okay and who wasn’t. I posted about my time at ground zero in those days, but I’ve also discovered a friend posted that I was okay. That is amazing to me. I feel loved in the way that love reached so deeply in those days.

(We lost two alums that day—one of whom was a friend. PTSD kicks in if I talk about it too much. Still.)

Strange the way these memories come back in full when least expected. They’re just dormant, I think. Like volcanoes. No one ever wants to declare a volcano “dead”—just in case. (Thank you, Susan Sontag, for highlighting that axiom.)