Photo by Lily, age 4
10 May 2017
White Plains, New York
My friend Jeff was hanging out with his friend Lily in front of her house this morning, before school. Lily was really proud of her purple flowers. Jeff told Lily that I never miss an opportunity to take a picture of purple flower because I believe they make God smile. Lily said she wanted to send a picture of her flowers. And she did.
And I smiled.
And I am pretty sure God did too.
Filed under Friends, Photo
I know this day well; I never forget it; it invariably sneaks up on me and grabs me unaware; and when I pause for a moment to reflect, I remember why things feel so raw. After all these years. And then I smile.
People have been posting on Facebook about remembering this day because of the Challenger disaster. I remember that.
But I remember this day for an event that took place twelve years before the Challenger. An event that also claimed the lives of educators.
Forty years ago this day, on January 28, 1974, William Koenig climbed into a small plane with another educator from Grove City. They planned a trip to Harrisburg, the state capitol, where they were to advocate for funds for the Grove City Public School system. At the time of his death, Bill worked as the assistant superintendent for the Grove City Public School system. But he was a musician. He played string bass in the pit orchestra for the high school musicals. He directed the town band. He was a tennis player. He was a photographer. He was also a private pilot. Though they had tickets on a commercial airline, the two colleagues decided Bill would fly. The plane went down near Emlenton, Pennsylvania, the crash site only located the next day. When I arrived at JFK a day later, after a college choir trip to Europe, family members met me and broke the news and shattered my heart.
Because grief lasts, I raise a glass to remember loses and acknowledge pains. And because love never ends, I raise a glass to give thanks and to celebrate love shared past, present, and future. On this anniversary, I raise a glass to William Koenig, to his life, to the time, the far too short time, we shared. To all I learned. To laughter and tears. To music made well and badly. To a multitude of remembered smiles.
Goodnight and joy be with you, Dad.
Goodnight and joy be with us all.
See you along the Trail.
Filed under Family, Music
Headphones surrounding her ears
like metal rubber earmuffs,
she leaned her head against the car wall,
eyes securely shut.
Pursuing escape from the noise of the 1 train?
The train jerked to a stop at 79th;
her eyes fluttered and opened.
For an instant, our eyes connected.
I always smile.
For an instant,
an even briefer instant,
a tiny smile danced across her face until,
as if she realized what she was doing,
the smile turned wry,
she squeezed her eyes tightly shut,
and sank further into her seat.
I looked away as the train pulled from the station.
3 February 2012
Shire on the Hudson