In Memoriam...

The question that most often comes up in periods of great tragedy (or celebration) is where were you/what were you doing when you heard the news?

On 11 September 2001 when the first hijacked plane hit one of the two World Trade Center Towers, I had been home for about 10 minutes and was proofreading some medical journal articles when my mom called to check on me, to see if I had arrived home safely because she'd heard the news on the radio at work.

I turned on the TV -- something I'd not done for many years, with the exception of the deaths of Princess Diana and Mother Teresa. That's when I found out the second tower had been hit and, later, the Pentagon and still yet, a field in Pennsylvania. Through the days that followed, the news media ran nonstep the stories of those who had been killed and those who were searching for their loved ones. The tales of heroism were many and so, too, sadly enough, the beginnings of fraud and offers of false hope.


I had worked the midnight to 8 a.m. shift at a company in the World Financial Center, a mere 1 block west of the North Tower. The subway line that I usually took took to work and home was one among several that ran directly beneath the Twin Towers and that was crushed under millions of tons of concrete and steel when the first tower fell.

I was fortunate to have not tarried too long and to not have personally known anyone who died that day. Some of my coworkers, both those coming off the 3rd shift and those arriving for the 1st shift, were there to view firsthand when both towers were hit. They were also there to see the countless lives lost and the terrible destruction of property.

I ended up working for 2 months in a building 2 blocks east of the North Tower and saw first hand the damage that was wrought: one of the windows in the building was massive -- and overlooked the North Tower site, as well as the small church between Ground Zero and where I worked. Every night and morning as I traveled to work and back home, respectively, the atmosphere was somber and the sights, smells and sounds indescribable. No words I could say and no picture you could view could possibly do justice to that scene. Today, however, if you were to go to Ground Zero, as it is now called, you would think it's just another construction site, albeit a rather large one and more pristine than most.

On a day that is sure to bring forth many terrible as well as triumphant memories and stories, I wish peace to those spirits who are no longer with us, to those who remain behind and to the regions in the world that are still suffering under war, deprivation and disease.

Yes, let us not forget what has gone before, but let us also not forget those who are still in need.

May you all remain safe and well.