It
was New Year’s Eve and the clock was nearing midnight. Around me, excited party goers were
engrossed in the festivities. A
large group was excitedly playing a board game, laughing louder and louder with
each move. In one corner of the
room, a quartet of people was deep in conversation, largely oblivious to the
others around them. In another
corner, a duo sat, animatedly engaged in their own discussion. I, it seemed, was the only one who
noticed the approaching New Year.
When midnight rolled around, I looked at my watch and
then at the group around me.
Nothing had changed. The
group continued with their game.
The quartet seemed even more intent in their discussion. The duo in the corner did not so much
as pause their conversation.
Because a new year had indeed begun . . .on the east coast. But, the old year still had 3 more
hours, at this party on the west coast.
Twenty years ago this week, I - along with my family - was sitting in my house watching the Opening Ceremonies of the Summer Olympics. I have always loved watching the Olympics, but this time was different. This time, the Games were not on some far-away continent. These Games were in my own hometown! In fact, just the night before, I had been in Olympic Stadium - now Turner Field - watching the dress rehearsal for what I was watching on tv. Now, twenty years later, some of my most vivid memories remain: The seemingly always-crowded highways of Atlanta were practically desolate, providing a seldom-seen sight. Meeting the Frenchman who wondered if I had ever heard of the book about the Civil War written by an Atlanta woman named Margaret Mitchell. The dress rehearsal crowd cheering wildly during the parade of nations for the entry of the flag from (the nation of) Georgia. Attending the women's gymnastics podium trials, watching the Magnificent 7 prepa...
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