My earliest acquaintance with year 2001 goes back to October 17,1989 when my classmates and I were watching Stanley Kubrick's 2001: a Space Odyssey (1968) for our Film Experience class at the Science Building of University of California, Santa Cruz. At 5:04 p.m., while Dr. Heywood Floyd was addressing the meeting attendants, his voice suddenly became quivering and screen, darkened and finally a total darkness descended on us. We all stumbled out of the building, while seats and walls were shaking violently. We did not see the end of 2001 until December 1989.
For some unknown reason, year 2001 always embodies something ominous. On the morning of September 11, 2001, while I was preparing for my late Tuesday night shift, our family friend Lew called to ask us to turn on TV. Paul and I were helplessly witnessing two hijacked UA airplanes striking both North and South Towers of the World Trade Center, which is the beginning of an unstable time of chaos, recession, wars, and politicians power grabbing.
On October 18, 2001, just a month after 911, another tragedy struck my family. My father passed away, and he was only 69. He was a man of fierce brilliance, vitality and loyalty. His untimely passing caused irrecoverable damage to our mother who had never been the same since.
In commemorate his passing, my department at Santa Cruz Public Libraries gave our family a gift certificate to San Lorenzo Lumber and Home Center. Paul and I chose a bareroot Fuyo persimmon tree that year. Twenty-five years later, it has grown, and borne heavy fruits each year, attracting squirrels and birds alike. The onion bags represent our feeble defense efforts.
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