A journalist, a journey in 9/11
This weekend, my husband and I will probably go apple-picking. It's a simple pleasure, enjoyed by many here in New England. But I will be thinking of how simple pleasures disappeared forever for nearly 3,000 people, many of them from here, on Sept. 11, 2001. Tomorrow, as a journalist, I will start my weekend covering ceremonies in two communities. The attacks on Sept. 11 claimed the lives of two people in each of these communities, and their names are etched in granite stones in their towns' memorials. Like a lot of people I'll be reflecting on where I was, and what I was doing, on that day, 20 years ago. I was a reporter at a daily newspaper in central Massachusetts, on a beautiful morning with clear skies. Then came the news so horrifying it seemed like a movie plot -- a jet had crashed into the World Trade Center. Our daily edition had just gone to press. There was a quick gathering to plot out a second, special supplement for that morning. I remember st...