Perhaps two weeks ago, I watched a lengthy video on YouTube, a compendium of news coverage from throughout the day of September 11th: the terrorist attacks in New York City, at the Pentagon, and on the plane which crashed in a Pennsylvania field, near Shanksville.
Twenty-five years after the attacks, the memories of the day, and its aftermath, remain clear. One thinks of the terrible violence and destruction, the terrible pain that was inflicted: the thousands of deaths, and injuries; the pictures of the missing on sidewalk fences and walls, in Manhattan; the unimaginable traumas experienced by the loved ones, and the friends and co-workers, left behind. And--the many still-breathtaking acts of heroism, of great bravery.
One thinks of the before, the during, and the after: it all remains firmly in the mind, and heart.
