A Moment

Eleven years ago, I was driving to work when I heard over the radio (I was listening to Bob & Tom) that a plane had hit one of the towers of the World Trade Center. There were a few jokes made about how the pilot could have possibly missed seeing that building.

Then, a bit later, at work, a co-worker came up and mentioned that another plane hit.

We were all glued to our computers for the rest of the day. There we sat, in Angola, Indiana, amazed, stunned, horrified by what was happening in New York, in D.C., in a field in Pennsylvania.

Our entire country was affected.

This is a part of our history, an event our kids will read about, learn about, do reports on in school.

We lived it and it is our duty not to forget.

So many lives tragically lost for what?

I don’t have the answer, I don’t think anyone does. So I’ll take this moment to remember, to mourn people I never knew, people I’ll never meet. People who were husbands, wives, fathers, mothers, sons, daughters, nieces, nephews, aunts, uncles. Heroes.