It was almost twelve years ago that I first visited New York. I saw the Twin Towers on my trip, along with so many other things that make New York what it is. There was no way of knowing the one and only time I would see the Towers, would be the last. By the next year, they were gone.
I didn’t grow up in New York, so can’t imagine having something that had been part of my entire life simply vanish like that. That day was something we all had to go through, if even from a distance. But I’m so sorry you had to go through that day, there.
Some years later, I visited New York again. I saw the emptiness, the landmark gone.
I’ve thought about the meaning of the words “hallowed ground” many times in my life. I’ve come to believe that hallowed ground is any place where both blood and tears have fallen. That place is sacred, and always will be.
Today marks the eleventh year since the Towers fell. As I think about all the events and ceremonies, the solemnity and sadness that have marked this occasion every year, there is something different this year: we got the bastard who did this.
Perhaps anyone who lost someone that day might find some small measure of solace or comfort in that, this year.
New York may be, as they say, a place apart… but you will forever be in our hearts.
We love you, New York.