Do you remember what you were doing in 1985? Well, if you were like me, you were 14 years old and looking at life through a John Hughes movie.

It is crazy to think about the movies that we had when we were in our early teens.
Breakfast Club – 1985
Pretty in Pink – 1986
Some kind of Wonderful – 1987
Sixteen Candles – 1986
Ferris Buellers Day off – 1986
Weird Science – 1985…and these are just the John Hughes movies.

The actors were/are called The Brat Pack. There is even a website called The Brat Pack site – http://www.thebratpacksite.com/

What about these:
St. Elmo’s Fire – 1985
About last night – 1986
The Outsiders – 1983
Risky Business – 1983
Stand by Me – 1986
Top Gun – 1986
Footloose – 1984
Flashdance – 1983

I know that the teens today love the vampire movies and that must be the way we were when we saw Rob Lowe, Tom Cruise, or the other “brat packers” on the screen. I don’t know if they compare to the movies we had in the ’80s.

I love these movies and even after 26 years I will always watch when they are on. Pretty in Pink was on the other night, as well as Sixteen Candles and tonight, Breakfast club.

There are so many quotes from this movie that people still use today, but the ending of the movie sums up what most of us were probably thinking at that time. That we were all a ‘category’ and fit into some kind of group. Not every was part of the popular crowd (or in the case of Newtonbrook, the front hall lockers) or the outsider, brain etc. It is still true today.

“Dear Mr. Vernon, we accept the fact that we had to sacrifice a whole Saturday in detention for whatever it was we did wrong. What we did *was* wrong. But we think you’re crazy to make an essay telling you who we think we are. You see us as you want to see us… In the simplest terms, in the most convenient definitions. But what we found out is that each one of us is a brain… and an athlete… and a basket case… and a basket case… and a criminal… Does that answer your question?…

Sincerely yours, the Breakfast Club.”

So, I was lying in bed this morning, with CNN on in the background, and a thought popped into my head….WHY was I at work at 8:46 in the morning when the first plane hit the tower one? I was not one that EVER got to work early, even when I was supposed to start at 8am, so why that day, was I at the office? I never really thought about that until today….

Working in a travel agency on that date was crazy. I remember I had a client who was flying to Hawaii on Delta that day. When she got home (she was there for a month), I called her. I wanted to hear from her what her personal story was like.

She said that they didn’t tell her anything on the plane, but they had to land immediately to the nearest airport, which was Dallas. Once she arrived in Dallas, the airport was crazy. Everyone was trying to find a tv screen. They ended up putting the events on the screens that were normally used for the departure gates, etc. She spent three days in Dallas (one night at the aiport) until the planes started to fly again and continued her trip. I am not sure what I would have done. I would have wanted to come home, but that is me.

We didn’t have a tv at the office. There was one in the board room, but it was used for video presentations and there was no cable, so trying to find a signal was hard. Most of what we heard was on the radio and it wasn’t until I got home that I could watch the horror of the days and the weeks and months to follow.

The other VERY strong memory I have is sitting on the porch with my mom that night and the few days that followed. If you know where my parents live, it is on the flight path to the airport. Plans fly over their house on average about 1 every 2 minutes. You can look at your watch and look up and listen…..but there was silence. A strange, eerie silence. If you live in our area, you know what I mean. Even when the airports were open again, you knew that it wasn’t normal, because it wasn’t every two minutes.

What do you remember of your September 11, 2001?

Five Hundred Twenty-Five Thousand Six Hundred Minutes
Five Hundred Twenty-Five Thousand Moments so dear
Five Hundred Twenty-Five Thousand Six Hundred Minutes
How Do You Measure – Measure A Year?
In Daylights – In Sunsets, In Midnights – In Cups Of Coffee
In Inches – In Miles, In Laughter – In Strife

In – Five Hundred Twenty-Five Thousand Six Hundred Minutes
How Do You Measure a Year In The Life?
How About Love? Measure In Love
Seasons of Love.

Five Hundred Twenty-Five Thousand Six Hundred Minutes
Five Hundred Twenty-Five Thousand Journeys To Plan
Five Hundred Twenty-Five Thousand Six Hundred Minutes
How Do You Measure The Life, of a Woman Or A Man


In Truth That She Learned. Or In Times That He Cried
In Bridges He Burned. Or The Way That She Died