So, one morning, several years ago, I was getting ready to go to school (I was still working on my degree at the time), and reading the morning paper as I drank my cup of coffee. At the bottom of the front page, was a story about a local IRS employee who had been caught taking kickbacks worth thousands. Enough to land him in jail, and lose his job and his pension.
Big deal, right? Except Husband worked for the IRS for thirteen years here in Metro Detroit, so we know a LOT of the local agents and officers (there's a difference). And this happened to be someone we know.
I called Husband, who was already at work, at about 8:45, after I dropped the kids off at school, and started to read the short article to him. When I got to the guy's name, I burst into tears. Sobs, uncontrollable ones.
This was not our best friend. This was someone that Husband was acquainted with, and whom I had seen MAYBE twice. Ever.From a distance.
"Are you okay, Mare? What else is going on? Why are you so upset?"
"I have no idea," I sobbed, really, I could barely speak. I laughed at myself a little, "Jeez, my empathy is a little out of control this morning."
Anyway, I got myself under control, and headed off to my office on campus, where I could get a little work done before heading off to class.
I ended up coming home early that day.
September 11, 2001.
Was I feeling a "great disturbance in the force?" I don't know, but the first plane hit the towers at 8:46 a.m. In any case, it's always going to be one of those "Where were you when..." events for most of us. And a real mystery to me.
