I got in the car to head to work, and the first thing I heard from the radio was "The United States of America is under attack!" I put it off to a really sick joke until the second plane hit. When I got to work, everyone was glued to the TV, watching in horror as the second tower collapsed. It was like hearing a friend or relative had just been killed. At first, I was in some sort of denial, but as the day went on, I became increasingly angry. Most bizarre emotional experience I can recall.

I recently saw a documentary about the memorial that was built at ground zero. It featured several individuals whose lives had been directly affected by the disaster visiting the memorial for the first time and being led to the inscriptions of their beloved who had died. Moved me to tears more than once.

I visited the World Trade Center twice as a youngster, and it was an awe-inspiring sight to behold. Every time I see a picture of the NYC skyline without those towers, I get an empty feeling. I feel compelled to visit the memorial someday.

The one good thing that came from that day of infamy was the renewed sense of patriotism it stirred up in just about every American. For the first time since the end of World War II, we were a nation united under a common cause.