No day shall erase you from the memory of time. -Virgil
It started like a typical late summer day at work, with the exception of the unusual clarity of the sky and the brilliance of the blue.
I was passing the residents’ lounge in Clara Ford Pavilion where two doctors were intensely absorbing the television report. A plane had been reported to have crashed into the World Trade Center.
Having traveled to LaGuardia the month before, I was trying to remember our flight trajectory during landing and contemplating how an aircraft could have gone so far off course.