My memory might be playing me false, but hasn't every September 11 in New York, from 2001 to 2006, been piercingly beautiful—sun, blue skies? And the weather somehow made the connection to 9-11 that much sharper: It was just like today...
(I say this because it's been raining all morning.)
Tucked away in the Times: "I never intended to make flying on Sept. 11 an annual ritual."
MUG runs Anne Sexton's 1975 poem "Riding the Elevator Into the Sky," as it's done for the past couple of years.
I had other stuff to blog about, but let's wait till tomorrow.