I had been busy in my own space, until 10:30 this am, when, not wanting to be late for an appointment, I came out the door and  jumped into the first cab that stopped.  I gave the address: 35th and Madison where I needed to be. ‘You can’t go there,’ said the cabby. Imagine my look of surprise, and my thinking, you’re not a relative with do’s and don’ts. ‘What do you mean I can’t go there? I replied. ‘Because of the shooting,’ he says. Not having a tv or listening to the radio, I had missed the shooting news of a few hours earlier. Since I had to be there, he drove to 35th and 8th and I would walk the rest of the way. That was another of those experiences. Along the way, people were gathered. At 35th and
Fifth they were congregated. Cell phone abuzz, news casters big and small, and the small, talking to anyone who had anything to say about anything. More cameras than imaginable by everyone. Even asking the police persons who were on duty to keep all of us off the scene of the crime couldn’t say which streets south were closed off and which were open. Had I stayed in my space for more hours, I never would have known at all. Makes it so clear when something like this happens, time and space are relative.