Above us only sky





I’m judging from the photo with my sister in the photo (with the hood pulled up over her head) that I was about 10 or 11. The year must have been 1979 or 1980.

Our friends, the Van Dykes, lived in New Jersey and that day they took our family to New York City to see the sights. Tom, or Tommy, with the curly hair. Kari Rose, their daughter. A friend of Tom’s, Tim Jeltes.

I remember we didn’t go up the Twin Towers that day because it cost more than we were able to afford at the time for all of us. So we were content to look up at the twin skyscrapers from below.

The photo that strikes me the most out of these is the one of the towers from below. The blue sky. The sun shining. I am reminded of The Fountainhead by Ayn Rand, to what heights men can aspire, to how our dreams are dashed, sometimes with back-to-back blows to our collective solar plexus.

However, we couldn’t see more than 20 years into the future then. Oblivious to what was to come, we lifted our heads and smiled at the camera. In fact, the future was so bright that I had to wear shades.

Does the future look so bright now eight years later? I don’t know. I like to imagine it is.

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