Earlier this year, I walked by the new Freedom Tower. Didn’t visit it. Just walked by it. And it shook me to the core. 11 years later and I am still that same girl unable to process what happened. It’s always a somber day – a day to reflect – a day to pray – a day to remember. And believe me, this isn’t the only time I think about that tragedy throughout the year. In fact, if you get enough New Yorkers in the same room together, they are bound to start talking about where they were when the first tower dropped.

There are few things that are singed into my memory – and that moment is one of them.

So, even though it is 11 years later and we have all tried to pick up the pieces … I think it’s important to just remember all those that were lost and all of those that were left behind.

A special prayer goes out to the fire and police houses that did all they could on September 11th and the many months after when it was time to sift through the rubble. I was working down there and remember seeing all the volunteers in their masks, all the families posting pictures of the missing on the chain fences, and all the tears and prayers that were being shouted while most were on their knees.

I couldn’t handle it. I quit working as a business consultant because I LITERALLY couldn’t handle walking through that mass every day. The World Trade Center stop was obviously out of service. So, I had to get off at Court Street and walk a bit to get to my job. It was always the most dreaded moment of my day. I would actually start crying on the N train heading into the city because I just KNEW what I was going into. I lasted a few months and then without a plan I just quit. Came home and told my husband I would substitute teach until I found a gig outside of Manhattan. I didn’t want to go in anymore (at least not for a while).

11 years later – of course things have changed, but the prayers and memories will remain forever.

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