September 11, 2001

On Tuesday September 04, 2001, I was on top of the World Trade Center. I recall looking down at the Statue of Liberty and commenting to myself how small it appeared, knowing how large it is. I was staying in a hotel next door as I was traveling for business. I recall putting my back against the side of the building on its corner outside and looking up to experience vertigo, one week before the tragedy of the day we know as 9/11.

It could have been me.

I have not returned to New York since that time. Though I don't talk about it much, I don't know if I could easily visit the city again. The height at which I stood on the top floor of that building and the lasting imprint it left in my mind would make it difficult for me. I recall people joking in the lobby of the World Trade Center about bombs. I think of the security guards in the building who would be there a week later. I remember the awkward silence of the elevator ride to the top. When the silence was broken, it was with a nervousness not typical for a simple elevator ride.

My kids in school had an assignment this week which included asking my wife and I about September 11, 2001. For the first time in 10 years, I watched a video online of the tragic events that day with my children. My wife and I could barely watch it, and she left the room. My children are distanced from the tragedy of that day, while for us it remains very real. We remember what we were doing that day. My son was barely 5 months old and my wife held him in her arms while she saw the events unfold over the news. I was again traveling on business, fortunately within driving distance of our home this time. I walked down into the hotel lobby where people huddled around a television viewing the shock of the towers falling in disbelief and trying to sort out what it meant.

The fallen heroes of that day test my own grit when I consider their bravery. Would I have run into the building to save others or would I run away seeking my own safety? Would I give my own life for that of a stranger who happened to be in the World Trade Center that day - a stranger that I know not if they are good or bad? Would a cry for help be enough to motivate me to run inside a collapsing building, not knowing what other threats might still exist or even what these events all meant? Today, I honestly do not know the answer to these questions. Tomorrow, I hope to never have to answer them.

It is often repeated "Never Forget" when it comes to that day in U.S. history. Though it is not an all consuming thing for me, I don't know that I could simply forget. When I think about that day, I am haunted by how different things might have been if terrorism had selected 9/04 instead.

So this morning I ask my self one question. Am I living a life worthy of being saved by one of 9/11's fallen heroes? Because it could have been me who needed them.