Welcome to hallowed ground.

Just like my parents will always remember where they were when JFK was assassinated, I will never forget where I was when the Twin Towers fell on 9/11/01. This year will mark 13 years since I was awakened by a phone call from my mom telling me to turn on the TV and watch the news. I should have been in class (oops), but I remember my first thoughts as I watched the live coverage in NYC where a plane had crashed into the North Tower: “What kind of idiot pilot accidentally crashes into the Trade Towers???” That changed just minutes later when I watched the second plane fly full speed into the South Tower. From my room at the fraternity house in Auburn, AL, the scene was unimaginable, unreal. Unreal because if you were anywhere but NYC, it was not real. We went back to our lives after a few days, still watching the news reports as the continued to update us, but life continued on as usual. No dust to wade through, no loved ones to locate. However, seeing the memorial in person made it real. A persons name. A fire department number. A note left for a loved one. All things that are real. Reading the names of the people gave it new meaning. Like most New Yorkers, Joshuah David Birnbaum may have gotten up in time to shower, get dressed, get the kids ready for school, and kiss his wife goodbye before heading off to work. Just another Friday. A Friday his family that was left behind wishes they could have back... but cant.

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