9/11

I remember exactly where I was when I heard about the terrorist attacks of 9/11 on the twin towers of NYC. I was working with my cousin-in-law in Woodale IL. Just a smidge from Ohare. Stacey was working in downtown Chicago. She was in easy visual distance of the Sears Tower (she could also see the center of Soldier Field from her office. Go Bears.). When the sky was clear of all air traffic, the sky was eerily quiet. You don't notice a Jetliner taking off and landing every 35 seconds after a while until it stops momentarily. I remember not being worried about myself but wanting my wife to get the fuck out of downtown. Fast. Everything obviously turned out fine for us, but even though it may sound trite, I feel it's important to tip our brows to the folks that paid the ultimate price that day. They went to bed the evening before just like I'm about to. Thinking it'll be another average Tuesday. Some of them probably left for the day on a sour note with their kids and/or wives, unbeknowst to them that it would be the last time they ever see them again. I remember the patriotism that followed. The comraderie. The togetherness. It's sad that it took an event like that to make us all feel like that.