That’s me, in the hat, sitting across the river from the twin towers with my two older brothers taken in 1979, only 6 years after the World Trade Center had been completed.

I went back and forth on posting something about today, but twenty-five years is weighing heavy on me. My life…our lives, the very world we know, is wildly different now than it was on September 11, 2001; and there’s still a lot of anger and darkness in me I think, stemming from the insanity we’ve been through (both individually and collectively) these past two and a half decades.

“Nine-eleven” wasn’t part of our vernacular, nor were the terms Homeland Security, shoe-bomber, freedom fries, Halliburton, The Patriot Act, Weapons of Mass Destruction, Al-Qaeda, Bin Laden, ISIS, Wounded Warrior Project…and the list goes on. Kids entering/graduating college today weren’t even born yet when this happened. My own son, will grow up in a world where this is all simply part of the history books (study hard, for mom); a dark, sad, awful part of history.

Twice in my life I’ve made sickeningly, unforgettably awful calls to my parents, specifically to my mom: five years ago to tell them that my wife had died, and 25 years ago, on the morning of 9/11.

My brother and sister-in-law, along with my Aunt, all were flying for American Airlines. I’d just watched live on TV, as I’d been getting ready for work, the second plane hit the Twin Towers. This was no accident.

My parents were still asleep in California but the news was reporting that it may have been an American Airlines flight which hit the second tower. Nobody knew yet at the time what airline the first plane was. Those first few hours (and then days/weeks/months it felt like we knew nothing). For some reason, my folk’s house phone happened to be off the hook and many of us did not have cell phones back then. I remember wondering if something bad happened in California too. I finally called my grandmother who was living with them and was able to reach her and she let them know what was going on.

Then the Pentagon was hit, and that fear…that awful worsening fear…we just didn’t know how bad this was about to get. That fear sat in the pit of your stomach, tightened your chest, and fried your nerves. It felt traumatic before we even were talking about trauma and PTSD. Then another fourth plane went down in Pennsylvania…that one was supposed to have hit the White House but apparently a brave group of heroic passengers gave the ultimate sacrifice and prevented even more tragedy. You couldn’t breathe. It took hours until we confirmed our family weren’t on those planes. Twenty-five years later, some of us are still sitting with and processing this grief.

*The viewing platform at Ground Zero from August, 2008.*

Seven years later, when my wife and I visited Ground Zero in 2008, it was a raw experience. We both were in tears. It was still just a giant, empty hole in the ground; a scar that hadn’t healed. I no longer think all scars are meant to heal - but instead they are there to remind us just how incredibly fragile this life is. Too fragile. Too short.

In my own lifetime, the World Trade Center Towers were completed, and then completely destroyed. Like they never existed except for in photos and movies. But the people in the towers, the Pentagon, United Flight 93, and all the first responders who lost their lives and since gotten sick…their stories feel heavier than ever. A deep kind of heaviness in that it feels like we’re making things even worse.

I feel like over the last decade, thanks to the current occupier of the White House - we’re getting all new horrific scars. Who knows if those will ever heal? I doubt it. I get angry and upset even trying to write about the current state of what’s become of America in 2026. But today, I got to take a walk outside, in a beautiful September afternoon with blue skies (not unlike that day in Manhattan) with my son, while walking home from school, and I just focused on being grateful for that moment. I’ll worry again later tomorrow about all the problems that need fixing. Today - it was enough to just be present and thankful.

**Never Forget….**

FDNY Engine Company 10 - *located across the street from the World Trade Center*

Much love to you all…

9/11: Twenty-five Years Later

New Year, New Photos