I sit this morning, watching on television as the remembrance activities for 9/11 take place in New York and elsewhere. A tear rolls down my cheek as I remember that fateful day of ten years ago.
I think of a friend who was supposed to be on the flight which ended up crashing in Shanksville, PA, thankfully canceling his trip late the night before. I remember the business associate who came into my office that Tuesday morning and said "turn on your television--they said on radio that a plane just crashed into the World Trade Center." I remember my office flooding with people, coming in to watch as the events unfolded that morning. And, I remember my anxious call and conversation with my daughter who we'd just dropped off at college, 600 miles away from home.
I, like millions of Americans, walked out of my home that September morning only to have my life forever changed by the events in New York, Washington, D.C. and somewhere over Pennsylvania on United flight 93.
I remember.
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