While debating on even writing this post, it occurred to me that the children who were born on this date, who were the first to be born in a world forever changed, who could really never have a "happy birthday," are now adults.
I remember that day, those moments, watching the second plane suicide into the WTC and thinking about all who died horrible deaths as I watched, just like my parents remembered hearing about the Japanese attack on Pearl Harbor on December 7th, 1941. I cried when the towers fell.
I mourn for all of those we lost that day, and I sincerely hope the 72 virgins each of those hijackers were promised all turned out to be well-armed Catholic Nuns like Sister Mary Stigmata.
I am proud of all of the young men and women who joined the Armed Forces in the days and years following. Who knowingly went into harm's way again, and again, and again. You have my love, my respect and my support.