Life By The Slice, The column - observations on life, relationships and humanity - sometimes humorous, sometimes serious, always from the heart.

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RELEASED SEPTEMBER 8, 2003

A fair weather friend she's not

I came in the front door one night in June 1994 to see a white Ford Bronco being chased by police on television. I immediately contacted my friend and neighbor, Dorothy, who was always on top of the news. We got together and watched the drama unfold. Months later, when the verdict was going to be announced, we shared the afternoon at an impromptu OJ Verdict Party, complete with snacks, orange juice, side bets and much speculation.

In 1997, Dorothy and I were no longer neighbors as I had moved away, but we were still friends. The news broke about Princess Diana and once again, we got together to watch in disbelief. We stayed up the entire night to watch the funeral amid piles of soggy, wadded up tissues.

Tragedy struck again when a plane on its way to Martha's Vineyard went down, ending the lives of John F. Kennedy, Jr., his wife Caroline, and her sister, in 1999. And once more, Dorothy and I were together. We shared our sadness and mourned the loss.

Over the next few years, we had the opportunity to work at the same company for a while and we got together every now and then socially, but as sometimes happens, friends drift apart as day-to-day routines thwart communication. So, when Dorothy called me one afternoon in August of 2001 to tell me she had been chosen to travel to Ireland for her job and would be staying for three months, we spent some time catching up.

We covered the usual topics and then got into one of those grouse-fests, where we ranted and raved about whatever things were bothering us at the time. Things like never-ending laundry, long lines at the supermarket, vehicle repairs, excessively hot weather, teenagers, and money, or lack thereof. Although I felt better for a while after venting, my life still seemed plagued with never-ending issues.

A month later, I sat at the desk in my home office fussing over a newsletter for a client, to be delivered later that morning, when my husband called and told me to turn on the television. There was still one tower standing.

Was it an eternity or mere minutes before I removed my hand from my mouth and slid to the floor in shock? Not until another plane crashed into the second tower, did I believe this was deliberate.

Then I remembered Dorothy. She was scheduled to fly to Ireland this same day. Our phone service no longer worked and air service had been halted; I didn't know whether she was already airborne or still at home. I jumped in my car and got on the interstate for the 15-minute drive to her house.

Traffic was nearly non-existent. There were several cars pulled over, the passengers apparently listening to the broadcast. Some even standing, leaning against their car, looking around. The September blue sky was vacant of jet exhaust trails. This was America, the United States, this could not be happening. I fully expected to see military tanks and jeeps at any moment. Every news update from the radio prompted a fresh onslaught of tears to wash my face.

I arrived at Dorothy's house in record time and found, with great relief, that she hadn't made it to the airport.

We sat beside each other in stunned silence and watched Americans of every race and creed meld into one universal color from the ashes that covered their terror-stricken faces. Watched as strangers risked their lives for one another. Watched as the freshly ripped hole in America's collective heart became so large that it began to pour forth the life blood that would begin to heal our country.

The hole in my heart from September 11^th, just two short years ago, is a steady reminder that never ending laundry, long lines, teenagers and money issues are exactly what they are -- life in general -- while the attack on our Nation and our way of life, was not.

Dorothy and I are getting together this week. Not to grouse about life in general, but to remember and honor those who perished and suffered. That, and to appreciate something important that's been around for ten years now, through fair weather and foul -- our friendship.