September 3, 2001
Today I returned home from a visit to my parents. At one point in the journey, Ghengis and I were driving southbound on I-96 when we noticed a long motorcade of police cars in the northbound lanes.
At this time, we also noticed policemen stationed over the highway on top of the overpasses and the pedestrian walkways we drove under.
The motorcade of police cars then turned into a stream of police motorcycles. Then two limousines flanked by motorcycles passed. Then an ambulance, more police cars and motorcycles, a respectful pause in which there was no one the road, and then the regular migration of Labour Day travelers appeared again.
We had, completely and unexpectedly, passed by the President of the United States of America.
(I have since learned from the radio, that the president was in the area celebrating Labour Day with a barbeque with some Detroit Teamsters).
Years of schooling and now years of being employed by a school, have embodied each of my Septembers with the feeling that the true beginning of the year occurs in the fall.
And even though I do not look highly upon the man, the fact that I looked upon the President of the United States of America the day before school begins, seems somehow auspicious.