Today is the eleventh anniversary of the attacks on US soil by cowards who used three planes to kill thousands of innocent people. Every year I write about how clear and beautiful a day it was that day; just as it is today. Every year, I write about how it is a day I will never forget and how I can remember every detail of that day.
I remember the fear I felt that we were being attacked. I remember the desperation I felt not being able to get to where my pregnant daughter was fast enough. I remember the relief I felt when I finally found her in an irish pub a few blocks from her office with her co-workers who had gathered there after their building was evacuated. It was only because I had spotted one of her colleagues that I even went into the pub. I knew he had to know where she was as I approached him, I looked over his shoulder and there she was. She was sitting on a stool with shock on her face and tears in her eyes as she watched the remaining tower crumble on a television screen.
I lost friends that day, one who's mother I worked closely with.
Today, I listened to the roll call as I do every year and as I do every year when that friend, Laura Gilly's name was called, I turned it off. I often think of her but today, I have been thinking of her all day long. I remembered how much fun we had during my first trip to Las Vegas with her mother.
This year, there were no politicians giving speeches. It truly was about those we lost on this date eleven years ago and the heroes that came after. It was a day for remembering and sharing stories of the people we lost, the valiant manner in which first responders worked to pull as many remains as they could from the ashes and who then later helped clear up the debris.
Let's not forget what happened that day; not just the horror but also how we all embraced one another during a time of need with love and compassion.