Stopping time

The Spaceship Challenger broke apart 73 seconds into its flight on January 28, 1986, killing all seven crew members. I turned the TV on just as the spaceship exploded. I was home from school. I’m not sure why. I suspect I was home sick. Who knows? Maybe I was taking a mental health day. I could easily see the gloomy clouds and cold winter chill catching up with me.

I sat motionless in front of the TV. I watched as a plume of clouds spread across the screen. I couldn’t believe it. The space shuttle flights had become a routine occurrence. The launches weren’t even shown in school anymore. It was a regular thing. And all of sudden, the shuttle was up in smoke.

Fast forward to the early morning hours of January 17, 1991, a U.S.-led coalition of bombers launched a massive air campaign on Iraq in response to its invasion of Kuwait. President Bush had warned Saddam Hussein for weeks that the U.S. and its allies were not going to let the invasion stand. I had been on call overnight at the small newspaper where I worked. When I finally got a chance to turn on the TV, I saw the bombs light up the Baghdad sky. I sat still. My eyes were fixed on the TV screen. I worried about family and friends in harm’s way.

And then on September 11, 2001, I had just started my day. The news soon started coming in. Three airliners had been highjacked and flown into the Twin Towers at the World Trade Center in New York City and the Pentagon in Northern Virginia. A fourth jet had crashed in a rural field in Pennsylvania.

I sat motionless again in my chair. I tried to take in what happened and process what I was seeing on the TV. Things like this weren’t supposed to happen.

Stopping the clock

Generational markers like these three have a way of stopping time. They become chiseled in our brains.

The Covid Pandemic was like that six years ago. States began to implement shutdowns to prevent the spread of COVID-19 starting March 15, 2020. The New York City public school system— the largest school system in the U.S., with 1.1 million students— shut down, while other states called for restaurants and bars to close.

For me, the stopping moment came on Friday, March 20. I was wrapping up my day. I was filling in for a coworker who was traveling. I was making a list of all the things I needed to tackle for her the following week. The list was long. I can’t say I was all that focused. I was tired. I just wanted to get out of the office and start on my commute home.

And then I got the voicemail message from my boss’ boss. The details were murky. We needed to take everything home, laptop, work papers, everything. Everyone had questions. Of course, there were no real answers. How long would we be out? One day? A week? A month? No one knew anything.

I once again sat motionless at my desk. I knew I needed to act, but I wasn’t really sure where to start. In the end, I erred on the side of taking too much. It’s probably good that I did. I never stepped foot in the office again. A few months later, the company where I worked was hit hard by the pandemic and decided to lay off most of my department.

It’s been nice knowing ya!

Skipping a few beats

The pandemic affected many different parts of our lives. School kids had to attend school online. Virtual meeting tools like Zoom and MS Teams took off. Masks became a common thing.

It feels like it’s been a year or two ago. You can still see the plexiglass screens or sneeze guards in many grocery stores and public places. They were installed at the height of the pandemic to protect employees and customers from the spread of the virus. The purchasing power and online sales established during the pandemic has continued to take over the global economy.

It feels like yesterday. In reality, though, it’s been six years. Six long years. I sit here again motionless, amazed at how quickly time flies.

One minute we were all stuck at home. The next moment, we don’t even give much thought to the time that has passed. It’s like time has skipped a few minutes, even hours, in between and no one is the wiser.

Yes, one day, one month, one year . . . it all gets lost in the shuffle. What remains are the people, our memories, and how we treat each other.

Yes, here’s to taking things in and trying to make life better for ourselves and for our neighbors. Here’s to keeping on, keeping on.

What powerful stand-still moments stand out for you in your life?