The City of Light.

Back in the 80s, Cath and I travelled to Paris, and France in general, multiple times. Sometimes alone, other times with friends or family, and once to attend a friend’s wedding. We were stationed in Germany with the Army at the time and it was a relatively easy drive or train trip.

I remember before we went, that various people told us how rude the French were, and that this was particularly true of the Parisians. We found just the opposite to be true. People were friendly, talked with us, and helped us a couple of times when we got lost. We spoke no French, but between our English and German, were able to get by (once while lost on the way to a wedding, I couldn’t understand why the Frenchman wasn’t understanding my questions…I mean, I put a ‘le’ in front of the German word for church (Kirche)).

We had great fun on all of our trips and visited sites both famous and local. We loved the food, enjoyed the wine, and I had my first Pernod. We drove in the madness of the traffic circle that surrounds the Arc de Triomphe. We walked in the parks hand in hand.

Here in Virginia, we have a small painting that we bought from a street artist in the Montmartre area on one of those trips. It’s only a small painting, but we still enjoy it to this day. In the future, I know I will have mixed memories when I look at it – the great fun we had in Paris in the 80s, and now, the horrific events of last night.

As most of the world was “a little bit American” when 9-11 happened, I know many of us are “a little bit French” today. It’s a shame that it takes a tragedy to bring us all a little bit closer.