I was in a bubble. Quite literally. I was at UCLA’s hospital having some tests done and they had me in a bubble containment for some of them. It seemed like a really safe place to be that day.
When I came out of my bubble, I wanted to go back inside when I heard the news.
The streets of LA were empty on my way home. It took 10 minutes to get home to Sherman Oaks from Westwood. Beverly Hills was deserted like in a scene from the Walking Dead. It was perfectly still.
That drive home was my War of the Worlds moment. I could hear on the radio what was happening – the devastation, confusion, anger, disbelief. Surely it wasn’t real. I prayed for this to be an HG Wells style hoax.
I live in a city of millions, and that day was the most alone I’ve ever felt.
While my heart was broken and I couldn’t even begin to fathom the devastation, there was hope. Communities gathered together in remembrance. People who wouldn’t normally take note of one another were kind to each other.
I hope that when we take time to remember today, that we remember not only the devastation and heartbreak, but that we also remember the feeling of comraderie we felt. We were bonded with our neighbor who may have been a stranger to us on the 10th. We came together to show that we are stronger united than divided. Our spirits cannot be broken.
Let’s let our lights shine a little brighter today to remember those lost and their families, to honor those who served, and to come together as one.