September 08, 2006

...the dirt was somehow sacred...

In a serious moment, Ze Frank remembers 9/11. One passage that stood out for me.

The parked cars were clean that morning, the last time they would be for weeks to come, as the wind shifted the smoke plume directly over my neighborhood.

The ash that covered the windshields looked like a fine snow, except for the scraps of paper, some of which contained a legible word or two. The cars were dirty, but the dirt was somehow sacred, and even the schoolkids resisted the tempation to write "clean me" in the passenger side windows.

Listen to the whole thing.

Posted by jackhodgson at September 8, 2006 10:29 AM