In The Morning Light

Standing in dim the morning light, no lamps or overhead fixtures were turned on, I took a step back to get a full view of what I had just created. It was beautiful. My heart started to beat just a tiny bit faster at the idea that it would soon become a reality. French Country had met Southern Charm and it was a dream about to unfold into something real and tangible. Smiling I went over the compilation of fabrics and accents, my fingers lightly touching each and every item.

Reaching out to touch the fabrics again, my hand glided over the soft nap of a deep, rich, red chenille. The raised pattern of fleur d'lis looked as rich and opulent as an antique, silk velvet but at a fraction of the cost and a hundred times the durabillity. After all, great design isn't merely beautiful fabrics and shapely pieces of furniture, it's about utility and endurance as well. The red chenille was going to be stunning as the cover for the new family room sofa. Laying next to the chenille was a fabulous french country style fabric. The background was a soft blue, the same shade of blue as a cloudless day in early spring and it was scattered with fat, luscious cabbage roses in the same shade of red as the etched chenille . The roses were scattered over the soft blue colour and mingled together with smaller, butter-yellow roses, pale lilac hyacinths, pretty pink tulips and multiple shades of green for the leaves of each blossom adorning the soft cotton. The chaise it was intended for would be overstuffed and plush, trimmed in a pale blue and yellow fringe.It's large back pillow entertained a multi coloured stripe over the same butter-coloured yellow as the roses on the blue. The stripes were thin and delicate but of different widths in red, green, blue, lilac, orange and pink. The perfect compliment to the french floral, the same stripe on the pillow would cover a generous Bergere chair and the cushions were going to be trimmed with the red chenille of the sofa. It had all come together so perfectly. There were 5 more fabrics folded in and splaying themselves over the table. They sat atop a handwoven oriental rug boasting of red, green, yellow, black and dashes of sky blue. Fabrics for drapes, ottomans, benches, pillows all synched together as if they had been woven as mates from the beginning.

I loved mornings like this, working in the peaceful, uninterrupted hours before the doors would open and the clients spilled in to break the quietude of the showroom. Weeks of working on this design had finally culminated into this day. Holly was a new client and she would be in at 10 am to see what I had created for her home. Every idea, every nuance, every colour and need had been relayed to me by her. This was my craft, my talent and it was exciting to see it all come together. I came in at 7am that morning to pull together all of the items needed for Holly's presentation. The presentation was nearly ready, all I had to do was complete the pricing for each item. Most of it was done but there were a couple of last minute pretties I had thrown in to help accessorize the finished room.

Looking down at my watch the time was 9am. She would be here in an hour. As I turned to walk towards my desk I heard the door open. The door had a small electric bell on it that would 'ding' whenever it opened. Who was here so early? It had to be a colleague because I knew I had locked the door behind me when I had arrived. When I looked towards the door my colleague came running in, she was shouting "Oh my god!! We're under attack! We're under attack!" My mind was turning her words over in my head, what was she talking about?

She ran toward me yelling to me as she came closer, "Turn on the T.V.!"
 I darted past the furniture and turned the television on. Just as the image came to the screen I saw a plane flying directly into a tall building. There was a cloud of black smoke already in the air but where did it come from? That's when I saw the building next to it was in flames. It was the World Trade Center in New York. My knees gave out, my stomach turned and I started to cry. I couldn't move away from what I was seeing. The people were leaping from the burning buildings in their attempt to escape the flames. On the streets people were running, trying to find their way out of the chaos and danger. Nothing seemed real to me, but I knew it was all very real.

How much time had passed I don't even know. The bad news kept coming, two other planes were being used as weapons, one of the rogue planes had hit The Pentagon. The Pentagon, how can this be? Oh my god, more people, my friends, our Government. Who could be behind this? As the news continued to unfold all I could think was, woe to those who dare come here, on our soil and murder Americans. Whomever had spawned this evil, cowardly attack was going to die. I knew this with complete certainty and I cried.

September 11, 2001 changed Americans lives, perspectives and values and September 11, 2001 would change the rest of the world too. Forever changed with no road back to where we were.