With all the snow pounding down on our heads, we had to post this shot of Isaac Anderson taken a few years back when he really REALLY didn't want to be out there making a snowman. If you click the pic, you can see just how miserable he really is out there. Gotta love the drool on the side of the jacket. Spring is nearly here..hang in there everybody!
In the crazy holiday season leading up to Xmas, my son Isaac turned 13 on December 13th. My baby boy is, according to the Jewish faith anyway, a man now. Not really, but he is a teenager.
We recently saw a college football game together on the sidelines when my alma mater, University of Delaware played James Madison University, and got a chance to hang with my good old college buddy, Coach K.C. Keeler of the Fighting Blue Hens.
We stood next to the cheerleaders and I was able to capture this moment of Isaac in his new aged glory. Happy Birthday Isaac. Love ya. ---John Anderson
Given the economy, we - like everyone else we know - are cutting back on gifts this year. Our kids are making gifts for their cousins and family, instead of buying things. The greatest thing of all is that these gifts will be remembered far longer than an iTunes card. I've been greatly admiring of late some art done by my two boys. This art is the best stuff that we own. Above is a masterpiece done by Isaac Anderson. I'm sure you feel the same way about your kid's work. Gotta love love. Happy holidays everyone. --John Anderson
It happened 7 years ago today. I watched some of the memorial service being broadcast on CNN, and then came home early to see my youngest son Isaac (who was home sick), age 12, watching MSNBC broadcast the "Today" show from 9/11/01 as the events unfolded that day at the WTC, the Pentagon, and a field in Pennsylvania. All I could think about was that Isaac was just 5 when all this happened. What did all this mean to him now? He wasn't up for talking about it, but one day, I sure hope he tells me.
Later, I called my good friend Andre. He and I walked home together after I watched the towers fall with my own eyes while standing in the middle of 5th Avenue and 26th Street. For some crazy reason, I was wearing clogs that day. I still have 'em, and they are one of my most prized possessions. I walked in those black clogs with Andre all the way to 110th and Broadway before the subways began to run again, one-way, out of Manhattan. My friend and I were trying to get home to Hastings-on-Hudson in Westchester County. The subway took us as far as an Irish pub in the Bronx, where we waited with our Guinness clutched firmly in our hands until Andre's wife picked us up so we could get home to hug our children, and my wife. Andre and I never forgot how lucky we were then, and how lucky we are now.
Seven years later, and it still is hard to believe so many innocent people died that day, and that the towers are gone. I still sometimes look for the towers when I come out of the subway for direction. Old habits, I guess. I remember my wife and I picked out our favorite apartment because it had such a spectacular view of the WTC. I remember carrying little Isaac, and holding the hand of his older brother Seth in early 2001 as we toured the buildings just 6 months before the attack. This video commemorates being inside them. What a loss 9/11 has been to everyone - the US, the world, but especially New York City.
