All she had was a photo of 60 years ago.
A young soldier holding a gun, on the bank of a river.
And then there were the letters.
These were the man she had learned to love.
His last letter was dated September 2001.
He had wheeled himself into the TV room and with the others
sat silent watching the Twin Towers collapse –
That bastard! He murmured,
meaning not the terrorist but the President. Then everything went black
Erika Bizzarri 
Wow, that was powerful. Especially hearing you read it.
We are back in 2 weeks! On 9/27 😘
Sent from my iPhone
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You nailed the moment Erika!
J
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And what have we learned in 20 years? Thanks.
James II
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I have my own – a daughter close by I was unable to reach – that day the world began changing.
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Hearing those words, in your own voice, WOW. Thanks
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James just overheard me listening to you read this dramatic piece. His first reaction: “That sounds like Erika.”
A moment later he added: “Sounds like a professional reader. Brilliant!”
Agreed! I especially like the title. I notice that its first word, “All,” and that of the piece are the same. But what really matters is the “And then,” which leads us to the letters: “These were the man….”
Our mutual appreciation of letters is part of what binds us. They endure.
Envoyé de mon Di-Phone
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