Two years ago today, my nightowl hubby Howie and I awoke late, as usual. I heard his voice from the other room: “Oh, my God - A plane’s crashed into a building in New York.”
For the next several hours — and the next several days — we learned the details and we mourned. We watched the footage and heard the tortured voices of those left looking for their loved ones, and we cried.
Insulated in Ohio, we didn’t know anyone personally touched by the terrorist attack, but we hurt with them. Two years has a way of making memories fade. That can be healing, but it can also bring about apathy.
We can’t afford to forget. We remember you: Those who suffered in the towers’ ruin two years ago this day, and those who suffer still. We remember you: Those who’ve served to protect us home and abroad, past and present. Thank you.
