As I watch the footage of the grief-stricken people who lined the streets, I can't help but feel a nostalgia for that horrible time because it seems to me that it represents an America more unified than today.
A little government shut-down wasn't going to deter Army Colonel James Pohl. While most federal employees were furloughed, the judge presiding over the 9/11 case at the Guantanamo Bay military commissions on Tuesday insisted the pre-trial hearings continue apace.
I admit that business travel as a working mom has its perks -- room service, going to the bathroom alone and no one waking you up in the middle of the night, just to name a few! But, as glam as that all sounds, the reality is far more grim.
At this moment, Congress has the opportunity to choose a new meaning for future anniversaries of 9/11. It could be the day that life went on just as disastrously as previously -- or it could be the day that changed everything, and this time for the better.
It was the coming together of circumstances. It was three kinds of home. My home, NYC, my husband's home, Massachusetts, and Sanctuary, a home for families, people I've met and listened to their testimonies.
This year, the proximity of the anniversaries on two different calendars leads me to think about one through the lens of the other. The theme that runs through both is that we must learn both through what is broken and what is whole.
After checking in to a nondescript Motel 6 and getting situated, I found my way online and finally saw the email. Our friends Ron Gamboa, Dan Brandhorst, and their young son David had been returning home, having just vacationed on the Cape, and had been on United Airlines Flight 175.
Fred Gabler was 30 years old on September 11th, 2001. Freddie was a practical joker who loved getting a rise out of people. He loved watching sports, especially football. Freddie loved a lot of things, but nothing more than that he and his wife were expecting their first child.