No one was speeding on Barksdale Boulevard...

...In fact, I think I was the only driver even doing the limit of 35. No one was darting in and out of traffic.

I heard a fire truck approaching from the rear, looked in my rear-view mirror, and saw something I HAD NEVER SEEN! Every driver on Barksdale Blvd. pulled to the shoulder to make way for it.

I went to the ATM, and it was out of cash. So, I went to another...same story. So, I finally went to my bank to withdraw some cash. The normally "chatty Cathy" bank teller was somber. Her voice was shaky, and I could see her choking back tears.

I went by the Post Office to drop my shipments for the day. The clerk (a big, black, rugged, retired Air Force Sergeant who I had gotten to know) was pale...gray looking really. As he weighed and stamped my packages he spoke very softly to me, and he said, "Bastards! M-Fing Bastards! Miserable SOBs! Hell, I wish I wasn't too old to go back in..."

I drove back down Barksdale Blvd. to pick up my 5 year-old son from his little kindergarten class. The teachers had the kids coloring, and sat on a couch in front of the television. Two of them were crying. The owner of the little school (who I've known since she was a little kid) grabbed me and gave me a hug.

I collected up son and headed back home. Pam was watching TV...and reading the red letters in the Bible. I sat down and joined her.

I called #2 son who was on about his 3rd day of his first quarter at Louisiana Tech. He was in the Student Center donating blood...and shaky.

I called oldest son who was at work. Him: "Crap Dad..." Me: "Yeah, I know. I'll talk to you later."

#3 son (11 years old) got home from school at the normal time. As we watched the news I asked him, "Phil, do you know what 'terrorism' is?" He answered, "Yes sir. That's how poor people fight wars."

"What next?"