That what I recall most. We lived under the flight path to Logan Airport and there were no flights for 5 days.
Silence when I walked the dog.
Silence when I went to sleep.
Silence when I woke.
Loud, isolating , silence.
A few nights later we gathered at the end of road.
We lined up along the Blvd.
The Blvd. that was next to the beach that over looked the airport.
The silent airport.
We held candles. We looked and felt helpless.
Then Daughter ( 6 yrs old) started singing "My country 'tis of thee".
People started joining in.
Everyone started singing.
We held hands.
We embraced.
The silence was broken.
We had made a connection.
We started to heal.
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