Miami 2017

You will see (or have seen by now) thousands of blog entries, newspaper articles and television stories pertaining to the 10th Anniversary of 9/11. We each have our memory of that day. We've each been affected differently. This is what stands out to me.

I found out about the attacks like so many other people -- with a phone call. My wife was already at work. "Turn on the TV," she said. I was sleeping in that Tuesday morning -- a day off after what had already been an emotional weekend for my family. We buried my grandfather on September 10th.

I sat on the edge of my bed watching Good Morning America. I watched the live pictures as smoke rose from the first tower that was hit. I listened to Charlie Gibson and Diane Sawyer try to figure out what was happening. I watched as a plane slammed into the second tower.

I rushed into work -- ready to do whatever they needed me to do. First stop -- Tweed-New Haven airport, where police were blocking the entrance. My photographer and I listened on the radio, as one of the towers fell. Then we heard Connecticut Limo was going to shuttle firefighters and EMTs from Connecticut to New York. So we rushed to Milford to go along. But they started shutting down the entrances to the city -- so that didn't happen. I ended that long day in Windsor Locks reporting live from outside Bradley International Airport, where it was eerily silent. No planes flying in or out.

It wasn't until I got home -- well after midnight -- that I really got to "see" what had happened. I'd been on the road all day listening to radio coverage. It was even worse than I'd imagined.

When I think of 9/11, I think of the horror of the day. I remember being afraid that this was just the beginning. I still feel overwhelming sadness for the loss of life -- for the families that lost moms or dads, sons or daughters, brothers or sisters. When I think of the victims of 9/11, I think not just of those who lost their lives on that day, but the recovery workers who spent so much time in the rubble at Ground Zero they will never be the same mentally and/or physically. And I think of the Troops who lost their lives in faraway battles related -- directly or indirectly -- to what happened that morning.

But I also think of the way this country came together afterwards. I think of the national pride that swelled -- that sense that we will survive, we will rebuild, we won't let anyone destroy our way of life.

I think of the crowds that gathered along the streets that led to Lower Manhattan to applaud the rescue and recovery workers.

I think of the way we recognize those first responders as the heroes they truly are.

I think of the first moment that made me know it was okay to cheer for sports again.

I remember the Concert for NYC at MSG.

They were the moments -- big and small -- that began to reassure me that we would, eventually, be okay.

Today's Title: "I've seen the lights go out on Broadway, I saw the mighty skyline fall.."