9.11.11

I spent the bulk of the day yesterday in the car.

I traveled from Austin to Houston to visit my Mom and then from Houston back to Dallas later that night.  It had just gotten dark as I passed through Fairfield, Texas.  Right on the other side of that town, lights were flashing on the overpass.  It was one of those county roads you see constantly as you drive through Texas.  FM 833.  A throwback to the America that required special roads to get folks from Farm to Market.  There was a firetruck on the bridge above the highway - it's lights blazing.  Beside it, two police cars - also running their lights.  I started to make that tense "I hope everyone's ok" face when it became clear that something different was happening here.

There were a dozen or so people, some of them in uniform (be it firefighters or police officers or sheriff's deputies) emergency personnell standing alongside plain-clothesed citizens and children - there, above the highway, in the dark of night... there on a small Texas road in the middle of Interstate 45 - they were hooting and hollering and waving American flags.

It would have been a remarkable display on any day, but on September 11th it was jaw-dropping - not just that these people were waving flags and celebrating their country, but that they found a way to share it with strangers driving by.

It took a second to realize what was going on... and then, of course, the moment was gone.  I felt as if I should have honked my horn or waved out the window.  I was still thinking about it 6 or 7 miles down the road when I approached Ranch Road 246 in Streetman, Texas, and there they were again.  Another group with a fire truck, an ambulance, a police cruiser - officers and responders... husbands, wives and children.  This time I laid on the horn and saw arms shoot up in the air as I zoomed by.

In all, this scene played out in front of me 6 or 7 times in a half-hour span.  It never got old.

I'm sure the terrorists had quite a celebration on that day in 2001.  The breadth of the destruction they caused had to have wildly exceeded even their loftiest hopes.  But boy I'll bet our resilience was also vastly underrated.

I saw and heard all sorts of inspiring tributes yesterday.  September 11th will clearly never be forgotten.  But sometimes it's the simplest things that resonate the most.  Thanks to all the good folks along I-45 between Fairfield and Corsicana.  I was so busy yesterday that I really didn't get to soak it in and pay fair tribute... at least not until Exit 206.