Mayhem In the Golden Years by Elizabeth Morris

Author:Elizabeth Morris
Language: eng
Format: epub
Publisher: Elizabeth Morris

10

Much Earlier

It was a gorgeous, clear, blue-skied day but Margaret Anne was inside her new (to her) condo while a work man replaced the thin-legged original sinks in both her bathrooms with sturdy, wood cupboard-style ones.

She had moved in the end of August and her whole life had changed with the move from her four bedroom, three bath, den, rec room with sub basement house in upscale Bethesda. Not that she ever felt upscale. At the time they bought the house, stretching to do so on her husband’s moderate government salary, they were expecting their third child and wanted a home closer to his work. Besides, he’d never liked their first house, a three-story stucco, semi-detached 75-year-old structure in the District.

She found the sun-filled, three-bedroom, two-bath condo six months after her husband died and knew immediately that it was the right move. Her (and especially his) beloved house needed a lot of work and was too large for her alone. So, when she walked into the sunny, spacious condo not too far from her old neighborhood, the price was right and she felt it was meant to be. Selling her house would leave her with some money to spare, to invest, despite the high condo fee. The expenses and normal upkeep of the house would be considerably more—with no cushion.

So, in her new home for just a few short days, she was slowly adjusting to the change, while still mourning the loss of her husband, the love of her life. She was watching the building’s handyman bring in and install her two new bathroom sinks when the phone rang.

“Turn on the TV, Mom,” her youngest daughter said, without preamble, calling from her law office in Wisconsin. “Hurry.”

“Why,” she said, never inclined to be told what to do without an explanation. “I’m pretty busy here right now,” she said, and in fact she had just had her TVs hooked up the previous day. But, hearing the urgency in her daughter’s voice, she dutifully turned on the large, black-bodied Sharp TV her husband had said was “just too big” when their son and daughter-in-law brought it home a few years before to replace the one that had died.

“A plane has just crashed into the North Tower, one of the twin towers in New York City, the one I stayed in last month when I was there on business,” her daughter said, sounding breathless.

And even as Margaret Anne sat down on her sofa to watch, another plane came soaring through the clear blue September sky, crashing into the second tower, the South Tower, and all she could say in disbelief and horror was, “That’s deliberate. That plane flew into that tower on purpose.”

Thus began the horrible terrorist saga of September 11, 2001, the year her husband died, even as another plane crashed into the Pentagon while another was brought to ground before reaching it’s destination in Washington because some courageous passengers stopped it, dying in the process in Shanksville, Pennsylvania.

Her personal world had

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