That Day in September

I could not help but post this email that my brother Bill sends out every year.  I was up early this morning watching the ceremony that was conducted in Manhattan…….looking for three names to be mentioned that were my friends.  I watch for them to be read each year on this day.  I know that day in September affected many of us in different ways…..some more than others…..we all have our stories.  I pray for all of us that were affected that day.

My brother, Bill, is a physician in Reading, Pennsylvania and a Marathon runner.  He regularly writes columns and stories that relate to sports and running.  I have told him that I plan on giving him some space on the Edge site for his work that is relevant to our athletes and families.  This is not one of them….but for some reason I cannot exactly explain……I am posting his email to me.

Here it is…..

“I have sent this email out every year since 2003, the second anniversary of the September 11 attacks. I will continue to send it out every year…  for pictures of the WTC remembered, see my facebook page…

It is another anniversary of the attacks on us. September 11 is our generation’s December 7. This date too will go down in infamy. Everyone I talk to remembers exactly what he or she was doing when they heard about the Twin Towers getting hit. Most people have a similar story, heard it was a small plane, probably an accident.

I had had an argument with my wife that morning. I listened on the radio and television in the waiting room of my office as the events unfolded. I was finishing up at noon. By this point the reality of the situation had set in. And my wife walked into the office. We didn’t say a word. We just held each other. Words were not needed.

My brother worked across the street from Tower 1. My sister lived 10 blocks north of the Twin Towers. My brother was able to phone me and tell me he was safe and just trying to stop the sky from falling. This was after the first Tower fell and before the second. He had trouble calling our parents in Long Island. I called them and got through. I told them he was safe and they told me my sister was also safe. Although many lives were lost that day, I was grateful that my brother and sister were safe. I did not cry for the Towers that day, they were just metal objects that could be replaced. My brother and sister I could never replace and they were safe.

Today I still get emotional when I speak of that day. I remember at the first anniversary seeing a television documentary about the towers. I happened to be home alone. Ten minutes into the program, tears just started pouring down my face. I could not stop them and I could not stop watching the program. It was the first time I cried for this tragedy. I cried for the lives lost, I cried for the Towers lost, I cried for the lack of ability to stop the terrorists, and I cried for the loss of our personal freedom because of that day. I was and still am angry.

I auditioned and earned a role in a play about that day. The play was appropriately named “That Day in September”. I thought it would help give me closure. Now years after the terrorist act, I still get teary-eyed talking about the Towers.

Does my reaction mean that the terrorists won? I don’t think so. However, I don’t like to lose, ever, especially when I am right. We may all have our own thoughts about the action our government took in response to 9-11; however, there are some things we should all agree on. We were attacked. Our home was attacked. Our family was in harms way. Some of our family members (all Americans are family members) and our friends (all humans are our friends) were murdered by people I don’t consider to be human. I am still hurt and still angry. I know the stages of grief, and I know it will take a long time to work my way through them.

In history we have heard the phrases, “Never again” and “Never forget.” These should be our war cry. We may not be able to guarantee the first phrase, but we can the second. After the attack September 11, 2001 all planes flying in US air space were grounded. It caused a lot of hardship, but for obvious reasons it was necessary and we survived. I propose that every September 11 all planes, commercial and private be grounded for 24 hours in the United States. No planes take off, no planes land, no planes enter US air space. We must “Never Forget.”

RIP (Run in Peace)


Although I no longer live in New York, born and raised there, I will always be a New Yorker.
Every day we forward jokes, please take the time to forward this to every address in your address book, I did.

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