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...three thousand people were murdered in New York City, Washington D.C., and Pennsylvania.

May they rest in peace...

As an American, please let me say thank you for your thoughts. I fortunately didn't personally know anyone who was more than slightly injured on that day, but I take those deaths very personally. There is a "Patriot Day" movement circulating around here, suggesting to everyone to fly the flag (which they should be doing already!) and to wear red, white, and blue - my wife and I will be wearing black today instead.

Thank you, Seafort. *Says prayer for them*

Never forget.

I am 34 years old. I am too young to remember the assassination of JFK, and I kind of scoffed when older people told me that they remembered exactly where they were and what they were doing when they heard about Kennedy's death.

Well, 9/11/01 was our generation's JFK. I can tell you to this day, and until the day I die, that I was preparing for a late shift at work. I had slept in a little, and was taking my time over a bowl of cereal, sitting on the couch and watching a morning news magazine program. I saw an almost-live clip of the first plane, and thought, "How does an accident like that happen?"

In the summer of 2003, my wife and I took a weekend in Manhattan, NYC. We had decided to visit the U.S.S. Intrepid museum - it was only a few blocks east of our theater-district hotel. There was an exhibit honoring the fallen heroes of the 9/11 rescue and recovery efforts, and I literally could not look at it. I thought that feeling would subside as time went on.

This morning, 9/11/07, I was taking my daughter to school and the radio station which was on in the car aired some of the memorial service held in NYC this morning. Think less of my machismo if you will, but listening to it I still broke down. I believe now that that feeling will never subside.

This evening, after taking my daughter out for dinner, we passed a street corner on which a couple of gentlemen had taken their own time to merely stand and raise our flag. I stopped my car, got out, thanked those men, and explained to my three-year-old daughter why that flag is so much more than a brightly-colored cloth.

I don't always agree with everything that my government does, but this is my HOME. I think I will always cry a little on every 9/11 when I remember the wound that was dealt to her.

Perhaps I am getting a little maudlin because of the close proximity in whcih I live to New York City. Whatever the case may be, thank you for providing this outlet.