Our window

Every year on this day, as the six moments of silence pass, the firefighters across the street stand outside the station in salute as music from a bagpipe fill the street. I watch them gather first, at 8:46 a.m., in formation–and then break, patting each other with white gloves. A crowd usually gathers, and I imagine they, like so many of us in windows watching, are choking back tears. It’s an incredibly touching scene.
And yet it’s just one firehouse of many. The devastating story about that man or that family we listen to on NPR is just one of many. To think about how many stories there are is heartbreaking. And so as much as I’d like not to, I’m grateful for our view–the one this morning, this one tonight–and for how it gives pause.

Travel Guides

Browse By Category