It's impossible to forget that beautiful September day in Pennsylvania twenty years ago. I had just gotten to work and was grabbing a cup of coffee in the break room and one of the nurses burst in the door and shouted, "We're under attack!" I think I stood there in shock. We all abandoned our "posts" and went downstairs where there was a television. That's when I saw the second plane hit the World Trade Center. I turned to the medical director and asked, "Is this the end of the world?" Our boys were 14 and 19 years old. Our older son was a freshman at West Chester University in Pennsylvania and classes were cancelled; he was on his way home. Jon, our younger son, came home from school as well. All I wanted was to have my boys at home and safe. Working in the medical field, it wasn't an option to go home; we all stayed and did our jobs, but my mind was on the events that would change our lives forever. Mark left work early to be with the boys. Twenty years later the events are still as vivid as they were when they unfolded. As we drove to Longboat Key this morning, we saw the flags. They do it every year on 9/11 -- one flag for every life lost that day. The flags stretched the entire length of the island on both sides. It was a somber tribute to those who lost their lives in the attack.
We will always remember!