11:11
Tuesday, November 11th, 2008Today is November 11.
As I was growing up, I routinely would see 11:11 on the clock. I would be watching television, reading a book, lying in bed, doing homework … something. I would look at the clock for the first time in an hour or more, and it would be 11:11. Not every time, of course, but the time 11:11 seemed almost to haunt me. Although it’s possible I saw times such as 9:26 just as frequently, it certainly did not seem so.
Step forward to my early thirties. My wife and I had a new child and a new Honda Civic. We were driving the Honda Civic on a Maine country road with our new-born in the back. We approached a two-lane bridge that arched in the center so that you could not see the other side. I looked down at the odometer–I don’t know why. We had driven the car 111.1 miles. I looked up at the approaching bridge and moved the Civic over to the right as far as it would go. As we got near the crest of the bridge, a truck came at us from the other direction, his left tires crossing the center line into our lane. Had I not moved over, we may have collided. Had I not noticed the mileage, I may not have moved over.
The silly thought occurred to me at that moment that all those times I had seen 11:11 earlier in my life simply were preparing me for that day, as if all those clocks were telling me to remember this time, these numbers, which some day would be important. Silly thought, huh?
It’s Veteran’s day today, so my office is closed. I’m at work nevertheless, trying to take advantage of the quiet to get some work done. This morning, after working for several hours, I received an email from a colleague asking whether we could set up a meeting for tomorrow. I reached for my iPhone to check my calendar. When I pressed the On button, the iPhone displayed the time in large numbers. It was, of course, 11:11.
