Today is the Twelveth Anniversary of that sunny Tuesday morning when the Towers fell. Driving through lower Manhattan this weekend we again saw the Freedom Tower rising into the sky as the finishing work continues.
I can still remember the paper and debris flying through the air over a half mile away, not knowing if that debris would break our office windows, watching as the cloud spread over the building and passed into the East River, the burnt pulverized concrete dust still falling from the sky later as we evacuated the building.
The smell, which lingered for weeks afterwards. And the long walk home that the summer morning with the smoke plume rising in the sky.
And as an author to an Author I have to admire the plotting touch, where the three burly and brave guys who spearheaded the fight back in flight 93 were a born again man, a Jewish man, and a gay man. Can you imagine any group designed to give more heart burn to the enemies that brought down the towers and who tried to use flight 93 as a weapon?
…
Their lives were forfeit, but they died free men. They died heroes. More importantly, they died Americans.
Read the rest.
Never Forget.
Hat Tip to to Cap’n Bob (http://capnbob.us)
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