Pilgrimage

(Viewing the 9/11 Memorial from the perspective of LCDR Otis “Vince” Tolbert’s grave. Photo Socotra, 9/11/12).

 

I waited until the actual minute of the impact that Flight 77 hit the building had passed. Then I gathered my crap together for the day and drove over to Ft Myer, which nestles around the west side of Arlington Cemetery like the fat on a kidney.

 

I stopped at the Commissary to get African Violets, one bunch each for Dan and Vince. Then I drove over to the back gate of the cemetery, showed my Arlington pass to the guard, and drove the silver Panzer slowly down the hill.

 

Approaching Pershing Drive, I saw a white sedan with blue lights flashing, blocking the way ahead. Another white sedan approached from the right, and turned towards me, slowed down and stopped, driver’s window to window. I was prepared for a brusque direction from the Secret Service to “halt” and wait until the important people had moved on.

 

“Looking for the exit?” said the nice man with the short hair and neatly-knotted plain tie.

 

“Nope,” I said.

 

“Going to visit?”

 

“Yes, Sir.”

 

“Which section?”

 

I put my hands out the driver’s side window and shrugged. “What day is it?”

 

The man nodded. “Section 60,” he said.

 

“I am happy to wait outside the security perimeter,” I said.

 

“He is done with that,” said the man, courteously. “If you turn right and head toward the fence, you may be able to get to the 9/11 section that way.”

 

“Thanks,” I said. The man was very nice and very professional. I thought he might have been in his early thirties- he would have been a teenager back on The Day, and this is the only way he could imagine the anniversary and the endless war. The man waved me on, and I turned right and drove slowly toward the maintenance complex on the edge of the cemetery. Then I turned left until I could see the knob of the memorial, and the somber line of graves in its shadow.

 

I got there and there was one other couple decorating a grave. The wreaths had been placed on the pentagonal granite common memorial to all those who died. Then I walked down the first row of stones, and placed flowers with Dan and then Vice. It was a lovely morning.

 

Just like the one when the world changed.

Copyright 2012 Vic Socotra
www.vicsocotra.com

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