Good Morning.
It's the day after....in many ways, September 12 is more significant than September 11. For all of us, it was the day we had to wake up, face reality, and go back to work and get on with our lives. There were still weeks and months ahead of us of trauma, sadness, and who knows what else, but that Wednesday if you got up and went back to work...you won.
For me, "September 12" has that hook to it that I've been pointing to for years as the prime example of what Bush did wrong. Every nation on Earth was on our doorstep 8 years ago this morning expressing their sympathy and sadness, and asking how to help. A tremendous opportunity was missed, and we're still paying the price today.
But I digress.
September 12 also marks the death of one of my oldest friends....the aviation industry.
I well remember my first flight. My father's friend Bob Tyler owned a vintage J-3 Piper Cub, and he routinely flew it out of the now-defunct Tew-Mac airport in Tewksbury, MA. I no longer remember the year, but I recall I was about Javi's age...7 or 8 years old, when we drove out to the airfield and Bob took me and his son Guy up for a couple of short hops.
I already liked airplanes, but I was hooked good from that moment on.
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