Have You Forgotten (Repost)

As we approach Patriot Day, I decided to repost this story from 9/11.

It is said that if you don't pass on history, it will be forgotten

This is something that we should never forget.

I am posting it early this year, to give everyone time to prepare for this important day of remembrance.

~Joy

Repost from September 11.2007

It's September 11th. Patriot Day.

I'm wearing my yellow ribbon and my American Flag pin. I haven't really seen anyone else commemorating the day.

I wonder if everyone's else has forgotten.

I know I won't. Every year the emotion is nearly as fresh and raw as it was watching the non-stop news footage.

And every year, I think of 5 cases of coffee.

I cry when I tell it because the emotions bubble back up, so you are at an advantage reading it, though I am about to cry just typing it.

Krispy Kreme was once a customer of my company and every now and again the buyer would request a few cases of coffee be sent directly to a store.

On September 10, 2001 they requested that I send five cases of coffee to the Krispy Kreme store on the basement level of WTC. I am told this is where the food court was. They had requested Next Day Air, Early A.M. delivery, which is to be delivered by 8:00 a.m.

It stood out to me because the address was simply :

Krispy Kreme

Basement

WTC, NY and the zip code.

I thought "Well how cool is that?"

The next morning, as news began to spread of the attack, I immediately thought of those five boxes of coffee and the unsuspecting UPS driver I'd sent to his death.

I prayed for a lot of people that day, but I prayed especially for him.

Over the next several days, I began to think about him quite a bit. Was he married, did he have children, what kind of person would he have been....? Because I would never really know his fate, it started to be too much for me. Every time I saw footage of the dust & debris, I imagined a UPS truck buried beneath it. Though it may sound strange, I felt really guilty, like somehow I was responsible. I cried uncontrollably, nearly daily, over this person I'd never met.

Two weeks went by. My best friend told me that I was going to give it to God and let it go. So I finally prayed that God would give me some peace over it and release me from this guilt I was feeling. I prayed once more for him and his family and "laid it down."

The very next day, our local UPS driver returned the five boxes of Krispy Kreme coffee stamped "UNDELIVERABLE." They looked as good as the day I sent them out and I took their pristine condition as my sign from God that the driver I prayed so diligently over, was okay too.

I know, when I tell this story to my grandchildren some day, I will fight back a tear even then.

I know that, as a nation, to some extent, we should "move on." But I was raised that the first part of getting where you are going, is knowing where you've been.

Never Forget

(dedicated to those who unsuspectingly gave their lives Sept 11, 2001, the people who knew & loved them, and all our military hereos keeping us safe ever since.)

Showers: When it rains it pours

Okay...I had to share this column I found on shower gift registries!

I recently had a similar situation and wondered how I should handle it. Glad to see that I am not alone.

Dear Prudence,I was recently invited to a friend's wedding. Enclosed with the invitation was a slip of paper listing the stores where the couple is registered along with the message: "Please include a gift receipt." Am I right to find this message a bit rude? I feel like my friend is announcing, "We have picked out exactly what we want you to buy but still think you'll screw up the job, so we want to make sure it's returnable." Or maybe they already know that they don't want the crap they registered for and are just looking for a way to get cash? Frankly, I'd rather skip the middle man (and the shipping fees) if they don't trust me enough to buy what they have already indicated they want. Am I out of line? (And isn't there a better way for them to ask for cash if that's what they need most?)
—Presumptively Incompetent Giver

Dear Presumptively,I always enjoy hearing about the ever-escalating ways engaged couples seek to chisel the goods out of their friends and loved ones. The innovation here is that the couple clearly doesn't want the stuff they've designated, but they feel they're too classy to come right out and say, "Just give us cash."

Here's a tip for engaged couples: The invitation should announce the where and when of the wedding and say nothing about the "What I want."

For that, you wait until your guests start inquiring, and then, as Peggy Post (heir to Emily's mantle) advises, you graciously say anything they feel like getting you would be delightful and that you've also registered at Crate and Barrel if they want some guidance. If what you want is cash, Ms. Post advises saying you're saving for a big purchase and a check would be most appreciated. (Miss Manners demurs that there is no polite way to say, "Show me the money.") What couples like your friends don't realize is that people who care about them actually enjoy the act of getting them something meaningful to mark the occasion of their starting their lives together. But these couples are killing that pleasure by acting as if they are collection agencies calling in their friends' debts. So, sure, go ahead and write this couple a check—maybe they'll even surprise you and send a thank-you note.
—PrudieThank goodness!! The voice of reason...and confirmation from The Emily Post Institute to boot! (http://www.emilypost.com/ )

I have long been a fan of Emily Post and own a rather large volume of her book of etiquette. Because of this, various friends and family members ofetn call me and ask "hey...what does Emily say on this" Like the Bible...Emily's advice is timeless.

Over the years I have been shocked by the greediness of soon-to-wed couples. Some have multiple showers, teas, parties, etc...in order to glean as many gifts as possible, and believe it is okay to do so. I've even seen young brides register for some really off-the-wall items such as a flat-screen tv and his & hers IPod Nanos! Where does this sense of entitlement come from?!

Being raised by a proper Southern woman, I was taught that for special occasions ( weddings, births, graduations, birthdays, etc..) you invite others to share your joy. If they CHOOSE to also bring you a gift, that was entirely up to them. It should NOT be expected.

A tea or a shower is to give a bride going from her parents home to her marital home the basics to set up a household (okay...that was back in the day, but you see my point.) A gift registry was used for "suggestion." While it does take the hassle out of "what do I get them?" gifts for the happy couple should not be limited to that list, and they should not expect to get everything they ask for either. A flat-screen and an IPod Nano are not necessary to set up household.

Just because someone ( or several someones) want to throw you a shower or tea, does not mean you can't say NO and suggest they pool their resources. I would think that the potential hostesses would be relieved! And you do not invite someone to a party that would not be invited to the wedding. That is saying "You are good enough to give us stuff, but not good enough to watch us get married."

My mother had recently called me (to consult "Emily") regarding a situation in our extended family where the mother of the bride wanted each sister to throw a specific shower and was calling about to set her plan in motion. I was mortified! It is one thing for the young bride (or her friends) to not know any better, but this mother is "of sufficient age" to have taken etiquette and elocution in school. I wonder if her desire for her daughter to have a good, strong marriage is as strong as her desire for her to get presents.

The only saving grace to this scenaio is that the sisters have divided the master guest list between them so that everyone gets invited to one event rather than everyone getting invited to all (another common faux pas).

My daughter is now of the age that she and her beau are discussing the possibility of marriage. Having been out on her own for over a year now, she pretty much has everything she needs for a household (thus nullifying the need for a shower, in the traditonal sense) however, because of the generous nature of her friends, I am certain that they will be amply fetted.

I plan to caution her to think carefully about her choices and her guests.

Perhaps my first gift to her will be a new copy of Emily Post!

I See You in I.C.U.

We have finally made it to Sunday...tomorrow begins a new week. This past week has been very trying for the family. With the start of school looming over us, nationals just 2 weeks away and Darling Hubby's car still not working (despite the $200 part) all of this paled in comparison to what lay ahead.

Wednesday morning, about 2:00a.m. D/H awoke to a nasty bout with "the big D" (and I don't mean Dallas) only to find that it signalled the possible return of our old adversary The Bleeding Ulcer.

He called in sick to work and sent me on my way to work in the one car we are currently sharing. The children had orientation that night and he didn't want us to miss it. The plan was to call the gastro doctor and see what he should do. He promised to have either his brother or our oldest carry him to the emergency room should things worsen. I told my boss what was happening, just in case I had to leave work early. Having not heard from D/H, I assumed that everything was fine.

Why is it that men can hear the plan, agree to the plan, but never execute the plan?

Needless to say, the kids and I sped through orientation (which was completley unnecessary because both had attened the school the previous year and were sufficiently oriented!) and then rushed home to carry D/H to the emergency room. We arrived about 7:30pm.

At 11:00pm it was decided that he could indeed be suffering from another bleeding ulcer, his 3rd, and that he was to be sent to ICU and given blood because his blood count was 26 ( around 40 is normal), a procedure that could have been avoided had he remembered "the plan" and come to the hospital earlier in the day. It was agreed that I would go on to work Thursday, because while he was in ICU, I would only be able to see him for 15 minutes ever 2 hours. I could be more productive ( and less worried) if I were focused on my work. He was taken to M.I.C.U. and the first of 2 units of blood were started.

I came home, arriving about 11:30pm and unable to sleep because darling hubby was not in the house, watched t.v. and played a bit on the internet. I thought about the conversation I'd had with Heath just last Friday, after our company benefits meeting that outlined the insurance changes effective September 1st. When I got in the car that day, I'd joked "If you are going to be sick again, you've got to do it before September 1st" Little did I know he'd take me up on it! I drifted off to sleep just in time for my alarm to wake me just in time for the first day of school.

Traffic the first day of school in our little town is bedlam. There is always a traffic jam and at least one wreck, which happened this time at the end of our street. I made it to work almost 10 minutes late, but still managed to find a parking place in the same zip code as the building.

I sent an email to my boss asking to work through my lunch hour in order to leave early. Most of the day, I had to defend our choice for me to come into work, rather than sitting around the hospital, wasting time and wringing my hands. I was focused on my work which made the time pass quickly and productively. I kept hearing ..."well, if it were me..." and I felt like I would explode. I felt bad enough without everyone trying to make me feel more guilty! But I knew that I was following my husband's request and that we'd made the best choice.

As once mentioned before, one of my aunts has been a nurse for over 40 years (most at the very hospital my husband was in). It is a well known fact among our family that she will NOT visit the hospital unless specifically summoned. I always thought it was because she spent enough time there already, however, after my grandmother had summoned us both specifically to the hospital, she explained to me her reasoning.

"People come to the hospital to be well, not be entertaining" she had said. "They do not need a lot of people hanging around. That is why visiting hours are limited like they are. Patients need to rest. For some reason, people think they need to be at the hospital all the time, but really, unless they have a medical degree, there is nothing they can do for the patient that isn't already being done. They can do more harm than good, getting in the way of the staff and needlessly stressing out the patient. I know what it is like trying to care for a patient and having to deal with the family. When the care team thinks you need to be there, they will tell you to be there."

I had never really given that much thought before, but it made perfect sense. And coming from a seasoned medical professional, I took it as the general attitude of other seasoned medical professionals and my attitude toward hospital visits changed considerably. Many could benefit from this sage advice, including many a hospitalized loved one.

I tried to be light-hearted and joke about why I was not at the hospital, only to be told later that I hurt some people's feelings. WHAT?!?! As if I didn't have enough on me already, I , the wife of the patient, who had enough guilt and stress as it was, had yet one more thing to worry about! How sophomoric! Did anyone ever stop to consider what I was going thru?! I was immediately hot, flushing from my chest to the top of my head. I had a melt-down and had to excuse myself to the ladies room where I leaned against the cool, metal wall of the stall and cried.

I arrived at the hospital that afternoon. D/H was ill from the liquid-only diet and had commented on how many restaruant commercials there seem to be on t.v. He had just finished his 4th unit of blood in an effort to stabalize his counts. We did not get to see the doctor but the nurse told us the endoscopy was clear. An ulcer was located in the same area as the previous two, but it was not bleeding. No other source coudl be found in the upper digestive tract and that a colonoscopy would be performed the next day to check the rest. The Go-lytely arrived soon after. Anyone who has had Go-lytely knows that whomever invented it had a sick sense of humor because you are far from "going litely!" I left D/H to the evening task and again found myself unable to sleep.

It was again agreed that I would go to work on Friday, but it was harder to do given the previous days events. Hardly anyone asked about D/H and that helped me stay focused on what I was doing. I had planned to work through my lunch as before, but soon found myself unable to concentrate and asked to leave at 2pm instead. When I reached the hospital, I found D/H enjoying his first solid meal in 2 days. I settled in to wait for the doctor.

The actual gastro doctor never came, but the doctor in the unit read through D/H's chart and gave us the high points. The colonoscopy was also clear, which meant the only other place to check was the 25 +/- feet of small intestine. There are several options but the most interesting seemed to be the "camera pill." We were to wait for the final word from the GI lab, but in the mean time D/H would be moved to a regular room.

After a visit to Cyn's I arrived home, but was still unable to sleep, despite the the wave of exhaustion that was sweeping over me and a belly full of carbs (Cyn knows a double order of hashbrowns all-the-way is a surefire sleep aid for me) . The thought that they were unable to find the cause that resulted in loosing nearly half his blood volume kept me staring at the ceiling fan for several hours.

Saturday I was unable to function from lack of sleep, but I did manage to get up and head to Nancy's. I had been putting off gown fittings since I missed the first one Wednesday evening. While at Nancy's (where the gown is taking shape quite nicely) D/H called to say he'd been released!

By the time we crossed the threshold here at home, I was out, sleeping soundly for several hours.

We still do not know the cause of the bleeding, but D/H's upcoming doctor appointment should shed some light on that.

Thank you all for your continued prayers.

Meanwhile, it's business as usual.

My Bucket List

I have decided it's time to compose a Bucket List. You know...a list of all the things you want to do before you kick the bucket. Okay, I guess it's obvious that I've just watched "The Bucket List" with 2 of my favorite actors Jack Nicholson and Morgan Freeman.

But you have to admit, it's one heck of a concept, and it seems like the ultimate goal setting exercise.

I'm 41 so I figure, best case scenario, I have about 40 years (give or take a few) to accomplish everything on it. Well, that is if I take after my dad's side of the family. My mother's side of the family can't seem to get anymore than 10 days past their 70th birthdays.

No kidding. When we buried my mother's only brother, who died exactly 10 days from his 70th birthday a few years back, I remember being unnerved that everyone was walking across the graves of their parents. I was trying to be as respectful as possible, taking up a position behind my mother, which was coincidentally on top of my grandfather's footstone.

It was then I had a "movie moment" ... you know, those moments when everyone is intently focused on the clergy/speaker/wedding party, etc... and someone in the back says something really stupid, really loudly and everyone in the congregation turns to look? As I caught the heel of my shoe in the engraved Masonic emblem, I glanced down and saw that the date of his death was, get this, 10 days after his 70th birthday! I gasped...loudly...causing an awkward pause to fall over the graveside service.

So, worst case scenario, I have 29 years...and 10 days...to complete the items on the list.

All my life I've joked about things I'd like to accomplish before I die. Silly, inconsequential stuff...learn to play piano, see Paris, learn converstaional Japanese, write a novel. Now, after having given it some serious thought (and a stroke scare in January), compiling this list of goals doesn't sound like a bad idea.

Once, a family friend attended a seminar about obtaining your dreams. After serving as a helicopter pilot in Vietnam, Richmond became an attorney, but kept his pilot license current, serving as a helicopter pilot in the Reserves. His office was always fun to hang around and he told the most interesting stories, smattered with corny jokes. He was very smart and enjoyed expanding his horizons with classes and seminars and such.

At this seminar, the instuctor handed out 3x5 cards, on which he asked everyone to write down what their dream job would be if money were no object. Richmond jotted down that he would like to own his own helicopter piloting service. Then the instructor told everyone to write down how they would go about obtaining this dream job, still keeping in mind that money was no object. Richmond quickly mapped out what would be needed. Then the instructor told everyone their next assignment was to go out and obtain that job! He told everyone that money IS NOT a factor if one really wanted to reach a goal. Needless to say...Richmond began piloting for a helicopter service that flew employees back and forth to oil rigs in the Gulf. I do not know if he ever reached his goal of owning his own service, but I know that he was very happy from that point forward. A few years ago, he died from complications of sleep apnea.

This story springs to mind whenever I think of lofty goals and how I should not give up on them.

I read somewhere that when you are setting goals, you should have a few that you can't obtain. That if all your goals are ones that you can actually reach, that you don't strive for them as much. That contridicts the idea behind creating a Bucket List, since the list should contain obtainable items.

I plan to have a few items that are subject to interpretation to be crossed off as I see fit. I noticed that in places in the movie, the characters were creative with the items on their list. The whole discussion of the origin kopi luwak (which, conincidentally, I already knew about, being in the coffee biz myself) though funny, would not make me laugh til I cried, but it was a heck of a punch line.

Unlike the movie, I plan for my husband to join me in many of them. Probably the sentimental ones, like having 10 grandchildren (a project mainly for my children!) and watching the sunset from the porch of our mountain top retirement villa. There are sure to be some silly ones too...real "Lucy and Ethel" moments, as I intend my best friend Cyndi, 4 years my junior, to join me on quite a few items. What good would the list be if I can't share it with those I love?

As I start to compile this list, I urge you, my reader, to check out the book film writer Justin Zackham is publishing by the same name. Zackham compiled the Bucket Lists of indiviuals ( actor Morgan Freeman included) from a broad spectrum of culture.

I plan to share my list with you as it forms, because part of setting a goal is having others keep you accountable to them.

That said, here is the beginning of Joy's Bucket List: (in no particular order)

Write a Novel (and publish it!)
Write something that will be read widespread
Surf the North Shore
See Paris
Scuba on the Great Barrier Reef
Parasail
Represent Alabama at one of The Big Three
See all 3 of my children find the love of their life
Own my own business
Enjoy at least 10 grandchildren
Drive on the track at Talledega
Meet Kathleen Turner
Run for political office
Restore an antebellum mansion
Go on safari

well...it's a work in progress...

Tanning disasters and other pageant prep

I have 8 weeks until my pageant, Beauties of America, in Myrtle Beach and I am as white as a piece of paper.

Oh, I'd intended to be tan by now, but with Darling Hubby's car breaking down and the gas prices and all the other day to day, money-sucking crap that goes along with being a parent and a spouse, there was just no extra funds to obtain a tanning package or the time in which to use it.

So here I am, looking as Irish as ever.

I did get a wicked little sunburn on my appearance at the Miracle League party when I agreed to be the dunkee in the Dunk a Buddy booth. I had prepared (so I thought) by slathering spf45 all over myself when I got out of the shower that morning. It took quite some time to correct last year's nasty little sunburn before competition and I was not going through that again. I took extra care to get my shoulders, ears and my entire neck. What I did NOT get was a sliver of skin between my neck and the collar of my t-shirt...how that happened is a mystery. Sufice it to say, I now have a crescent shaped patch, about the size of a slice of cantelope, peeling off my neck!

I used to have a fair bit of success with self tanners when they first came out. Coppertone made a great one. Unfortunately, as with many things, when you find something you like, that works well, they decide to "improve" it, thus changing it so that it never works for you again. I mean, helloooo...if it ain't broke, don't fix it! But manufacturers never quite see it that way and feel they can be more "marketable" by making "improvements." Good idea in theory, but usually lacks something in the execution. (I always refer to the "new Coke/Classic Coke" debacle in the late '80's as an example of this phenomenon)

One of the "improvements" was adding a fragrance. Those of you who know me well know that I can't do fragrance. Someone in my offices uses that ghastly "Sweet Pea" lotion by Bath & Body works. They don't use it often, but enough. The fragrance is so powerful, it shuts down my sinuses from several cubes away. Then I am sick for the rest of the week. Now one would think that a tanning product would have that pleasant tanning-product-cocoa-butter-and-pina-colada-going-to-the-beach smell. We all know that smell really well. (Admit it...you just got a whiff while I was talking about it!) Imagine my shock and horror when I picked up the "new and improved" version of my favorite self-tanner and read "NEW PLEASANT FLORAL SCENT!"

I was never able to use it again.

Other self-tanners have bee disapointing in other ways.
Orange, streaky, hard to apply, hard to remove, or I would get hooked on one just in time for them to be taken off the market because the company went out of business. I did really like one that Toni Fake-Ponytail was hawking on HSN. It was brown, so you could see where it was going (and what you'd missed!) and the resulting mild golden brown color did not scream "fake tan" on my pale Irish skin. Best of all, there was ZERO fragrance! It was $19.95 for a 3 ounce bottle. Kinda pricey compared to the 10 ounce bottle of the "new and improved" brand I'd been using. But I deemed the expense worth the money and bought several bottles.

No one told me the crap had a shelf life, so imagine my surprise when 6 months down the road all the elements seperated and turned a lovely Kermit-the-Frog green!

So here I am...pastey and white...contemplating my options.

8 weeks is not enough time to get any sort of tan from the tanning bed. Heck, by 8 weeks I've just worked up to where I can lay in it the full 20 minutes!

I could do the whole airbrush tan thing, but no one around here does it anymore. I could buy the canned version they sell at Sally's but neither my husband nor my best girl pal Cyndi are willing to help me with it (primarily because they are both tan and don't understand my persepective).

So I headed off to my one of favorite places on the planet...my neighborhood Walmart.

Our Walmart has it's tanning products displayed on an island shelving unit. For those of you who are unfamiliar with store fixture terms, (thanks to 7 years of grocery & drug store experience I can share) an island shelving unit is a section of shelving designed to be used freestanding and can be moved around the store. They are typically set up in high traffic areas of a store for seasonal or sale merchandise. As with all retail shelving, they are 4 feet wide and typically range in height from 3 to 5 shelves, netting from 12 to 20 feet of merchandising space. Some are sectional and can be linked together to increase merchadising space. The island in question is 12 foot wide with 2 sides: one for actual tanning and/or tanning prevention and one for self-tanners and an assortment of the green & blue gooey stuff to use when all the others have failed. At an impressive 6 shelves high, that makes 144 feet of tanning goods. An island indeed.

So I stood in front of the 8 feet of self-tanning products. I knew to rule out my beloved Coppertone but the dizzing aray of benefits and tones and application processes made it hard to choose. I tried to think of things others had told me about various products. There was something good about them all. I knew I needed "medium" because I would look foolish with "dark" so that ruled out another section. I knew I didn't want lotion and spray wasn't looking great either, so I settled on the towel variety.

I purchased my box and headed home.

Lucky for me, I still had the rubber gloves that came with my expensive tanner. I read the instructions carefully. I showered, exfoliating like mad. I dried completely. As instructed by another of my pigment-challenged friends, a pro at self tanning now, I slathered Vaseline on my elbows, knees, ankles, feet and the scar on my leg so as not to attract too much tanner. I donned my gloves and opened the package.

A tanning towel is like a big wet wipe. The instruction say to start wiping the folded towel across the areas of your body that you want tanned, unfolding as needed. Let dry completely and the tan would develop within the hour.

I thought I'd done pretty good for my first attempt. I'd gotten my legs completely, but had a big, swirling white spot on my left arm where I'd swiped but missed on 2 passes.

I made my second attempt a week later. We were going to attend a picnic and fireworks show at D/H's cousin's church. I had planned to wear shorts, so it was a must. I began the ritual all over again. I made extra care to get all of my arms, my neck & chest, but when I got down to my legs, there as a knock at the bathroom door. "30 minutes" my hubby informed me. Knowing I had to dry completely or risk ruining both my clothes and my tan, I started wiping in high gear.

It felt like I hit everything. It wasn't until I went to the ladies room at the church, a good 2 or 3 hours later, when I saw my first mistake. A wide, white patch down the inside of my calve. Okay, it's on the inside, I'm good I thought to myself. The ladies room was far too crowded for any real inspection, so I finished up and went outside to find a seat for the fireworks show.

"Hey, you missed a spot on the back of your leg" my husband informed me.
"Yeah, I saw it"
"I don't see how, it's the back of your thigh. You'd be sitting on it"

Holy crap...I dashed for the ladies room. Sure enough, I missed a patch down the back of my thigh and to make matters worse, I could see that now my feet had tanned too. The swipe at my feet highlighted only the bones, each with a nice white stripe in between!

I was turning into a zebra, right in front of everyone's eyes! There is no telling what these people thought. Bet I made it on to the prayer list for having some horrible skin disease.

When we got back, I began googling ways to get self tanner off. Surprisingly, there aren't that many that don't involve some sort of torturous scrubbing. Perhaps someone needs to invent a self tanner remover.

I will try to correct my self tan today. Can't get any worse, right?
And if it does, well I still have 8 weeks, right?

Gotta love pageant prep...

All moved!

Whew! It took a bit of doing, but I am finally "all moved in" to this blogspot!

In case you were wondering why all these "old" posts popped up here above the new ones, I have decided to delete the "It's Good to Be Queen" blog. I had created it before finding out that the fabulous Darlene Deeben, Mrs Galaxy 2007, had a website by almost the very same name.

I will use this blogspot for my rantings and personal observations and tidbits of family life.

My pageant appearances will be reported on my new blog Just Joy: Royal Appearances.

Thanks for reading

EnJOY

Have You Forgotten?

(Repost: Originally posted September 11, 2007)

It's September 11th. Patriot Day.

I'm wearing my yellow ribbon and my American Flag pin. I haven't really seen anyone else commemorating the day.

I wonder if everyone's else has forgotten.

I know I won't. Every year the emotion is nearly as fresh and raw as it was watching the non-stop news footage.

And every year, I think of 5 cases of coffee.

I cry when I tell it because the emotions bubble back up, so you are at an advantage reading it, though I am about to cry just typing it.

Krispy Kreme was once a customer of my company and every now and again the buyer would request a few cases of coffee be sent directly to a store.

On September 10, 2001 they requested that I send five cases of coffee to the Krispy Kreme store on the basement level of WTC. I am told this is where the food court was. They had requested Next Day Air, Early A.M. delivery, which is to be delivered by 8:00 a.m.

It stood out to me because the address was simply :
Krispy Kreme
Basement
WTC, NY and the zip code.
I thought "Well how cool is that?"

The next morning, as news began to spread of the attack, I immediately thought of those five boxes of coffee and the unsuspecting UPS driver I'd sent to his death.

I prayed for a lot of people that day, but I prayed especially for him.

Over the next several days, I began to think about him quite a bit. Was he married, did he have children, what kind of person would he have been....? Because I would never really know his fate, it started to be too much for me. Every time I saw footage of the dust & debris, I imagined a UPS truck buried beneath it. Though it may sound strange, I felt really guilty, like somehow I was responsible. I cried uncontrollably, nearly daily, over this person I'd never met.

Two weeks went by. My best friend told me that I was going to give it to God and let it go. So I finally prayed that God would give me some peace over it and release me from this guilt I was feeling. I prayed once more for him and his family and "laid it down."

The very next day, our local UPS driver returned the five boxes of Krispy Kreme coffee stamped "UNDELIVERABLE." They looked as good as the day I sent them out and I took their pristine condition as my sign from God that the driver I prayed so diligently over, was okay too.

I know, when I tell this story to my grandchildren some day, I will fight back a tear even then.

I know that, as a nation, to some extent, we should "move on." But I was raised that the first part of getting where you are going, is knowing where you've been.

Never Forget

(dedicated to those who unsuspectingly gave their lives Sept 11, 2001, the people who knew & loved them, and all our military hereos keeping us safe ever since.)