I am not on my own when September 11th brings a lump to my throat. I had sailed by the Twin Towers of the World Trade Center just five months prior, on board Cunard’s Queen Elizabeth 2, my first classic transatlantic west bound crossing in May 2001.
Twenty years ago on September 11th, my turn of duty at Buxton Station was 15.00 hrs “as required.” Thus I had the morning to myself, and not yet having been assigned a train to work, I could allow myself to leave home for work, “at the last minute,” the next train departing, if I remember rightly, at 15.47hrs. I remember not what I had for lunch that day; but there was a small amount of time to relax in front of the television before venturing to work. BBC 2 were broadcasting a documentary about the Gilbert and Sullivan Festivals in San Francisco and Buxton. I quite like G & S but find the obsessiveness around Gilbert’s Victorian satire and Sullivan’s melodic tones, annoying at times. I understand Harrison Bertwhistle described Arthur Sullivan as sub – Mendelssohn! (That may well be apocryphal, but if I was described as sub-Mendelssohn, I would take it as a great compliment!) The documentary did irritate me and I switched from BBC 2 to BBC 1. What I saw would make me a tad late for work. The image of thick smoke emanating from The World Trade Center had me in paralysed disbelief. A red bar at the foot of the picture screamed America Under Attack. Rather shaken, I drove to work and welcomed the temporary normality of getting into the car for the seven to ten minute drive to the Station. I rang the Supervisor at Manchester Piccadilly to book on duty, and still, all jobs were covered. I switched on the mess-room T.V. My memory is inaccurate, but I seem to recall the second tower collapsing. People working trains were unaware of what had taken place, and froze, momentarily, in disbelief at what was unfolding. I was due to fly to Canada around ten days later. I sent what was probably my first ever e-mail to a lady I know in New York with what must have been an inadequate message of sympathy. Even now, we remain in touch very occasionally. Along with her English husband, she was on last year’s South America voyage.
The events of 9/11 obviously altered the course of history, but twenty years later sees me watching The Last Night of the Proms. At one time, I would “give my eye teeth” to be there. But, the pandemic persists and being shoulder to shoulder in a crowd of several thousand strikes me as rather unwise. Are all those in the audience double-jabbed; have all undergone and passed a Lateral Flow Test? The orchestra and choir are superbly socially distanced, but the audience rather less so. This is where my new big fancy telly comes into its own. There is a,strange but interesting mix of music tonight with beamed in (pre-recorded) contributions from Wales Ireland and Scotland….to be continued
Sunday 12th September
continued….And despite my grumpiness, when the concert which I have followed most years since childhood, was rather more enjoyable than in previous years. Since childhood, I have always liked “Rule Britannia,” more for stirring melody than incomprehensible (to me) libretto! In 1977 I actually got into a Last Night of the Proms with former Halle Orchestra conductor James Loughran in charge. I’m sure it was he who introduced Auld Lang Syne to bring the proceedings to a close. I am not keen on the traditional hymn Jerusalem, but even last night, one of my least favourite hymns did sound glorious with audience and orchestra almost drowning out the mighty Albert Hall organ which earlier, trounced the encore of Land of Hope and Glory not quite drowning out audience and orchestra! Through my headphones, and in front an almost perfect screen, it was just like bring there without the risk of covid and disturbing the neighbours!
Within minutes of the titles marking the end of the broadcast, my life returned to a normal and unremarkable Saturday, but I was ready for some sleep shortly after Tesco sandwiches which deputised for dinner!
This morning, I awoke, briefly not having a clue what day it was. The time was approximately 08.41 hrs when it dawned on me that I should be preparing for church. Outside, it was bright and sunny. “No excuse not to walk down, then” I pondered, and then selected what I would wear for the day. Although I had plenty of time between getting dressed and setting off, that time soon passed and, as the sky turned to threatening shade of grey, I jumped into the car.
Right now, ( early evening) I am listening to Mahler’s Resurrection Symphony on YouTube. This is a live concert given by the Mahler Chamber Orchestra under Maxime Pascal a young and extremely competent interpreter of Mahler. Each one of the Chamber Orchestra is a virtuoso in his/her own right. Maxime Pascal is just 36, with the expertise of Bruno Walter or Simon Rattle. This performance came “on stream” on 10th September, just two days ago, and has, so far, been viewed 12,000 times. I think that is remarkable. It was my sister Helene who introduced me to Mahler while I was still at primary school. Then, I just loved the melodies, harmony, sudden explosions of joy/disaster, and of course, that unsurpassable finale which still causes the eyes to well up. How on earth did Helene come across Mahler in the 1950s? In those days, this was far from everyday music. But I will always be grateful to her for allowing me to enjoy her prized L.P. – conducted by Bruno Walter.
Being September, the nights are drawing in inevitably. It is 7.35 and a cloud-covered sky hastens the darkness, which, “falls at Thy behest.”
Monday 13th September
It’s taking me forever to finish this blog. A quiet week awaits, and probably, I will not write too much until the weekend.
Many thanks indeed for reading. With all good wishes, David, 12.39hrs 13/9/21.
David's Cruise 