I don’t really know what to say.  I never know what to say, but I need to say something so please bear with me.

Every year, I make sure to watch as many of the 9/11-related programs as possible because I never want to forget what happened. I never want to forget the sights, sounds and smells of September 11, 2001 and the days that followed. I didn’t lose any family members that day, but I did know several people who didn’t get to go home that night. And, if it hadn’t been for some circumstances beyond my control, I would be dead now, too.

But this isn’t about me. Everyone who lived in New York and Washington and Shanksville on that beautiful September morning lost a piece of themselves, as did millions of others who weren’t anywhere near any of these places.

May God bless those who died and may He give comfort to those whom they left behind.

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I drove home from Mass this morning, with the ceremonies on the radio.  At 8:47, when everyone paused for a moment of silence to remember the first plane hitting Tower 1, I realized I was a couple of hundred yards from the Booker Elementary School in Sarasota, which is where President Bush was at 8:47 a.m. on 9/11/01.  That was spooky.  But I’m very glad it worked out that way.

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