9/11

Yesterday morning, I dropped my daughter off at the train station, as I do everyday, so she could begin her daily commute to work in the city. It wasn't until I was pulling away that it struck me that on a very similar clear morning exactly 12 years ago that I got on that same train to commute to work. When I switched to the PATH train in Hoboken it was still a bright normal morning. While that train was crossing under the Hudson, everything changed. I emerged from the PATH station into the concourse under the World Trade Center that reeked of jet fuel and was filled with shouting cops and running people. Life can be taken from us or irrevocably altered in less time than it takes for a train to cross the Hudson. The world has changed since that morning - my daughter was in elementary school then - but the ultimate fragility of the lives we have created will always exist. I thought a lot yesterday about the thousands who got up that morning 12 years ago and went to work at that spot just like me but who never made it back home. I was very happy when I saw my daughter get back off the train at the end of the day yesterday and I was able to drive her home. At the same time I was unbelievably sad for all those who never made the train home 12 years ago and their families who now lack someone to welcome them home at the end of the day.

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