This morning, from our house, we watched two fireboats send arcs of water into the sky over Casco Bay — a signal, not a coincidence. Laura checked her watch. 8:46. The exact minute the first plane hit, twenty-five years ago.
She got in the car and drove to the Eastern Prom, arriving just as the ceremony was ending. There were more people there than either of us expected — standing quietly, looking out at the water, the same water the fireboats had just crossed.
Some anniversaries fade with distance. This one hasn’t. Twenty-five years later, Portland still stops, still gathers, still sends water into the air at 8:46 in the morning.
We didn’t plan to write about this today. But when your own city marks a moment like that without being asked to, it felt worth mentioning.
It’s in this month’s Monthly Connection, along with everything else we found worth writing about this September — a Fed chairman’s actual words on mortgage rates, a Thoreau expedition that started in Bangor in 1846, the last active Shaker village in the world, and what really happened in the Cumberland County market last month.
You can view past issues at – Monthly Connection Archive.
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About the Author: Michael
