My mother gave birth to me on the morning of Friday, October 3, 1975, 2 days shy of her 30th birthday. This picture was taken on the beach in 1979 -- it is her favorite shot of herself. A lot of people think we look alike -- I'm so flattered.

On September 11th it was her call that informed Sam that something was wrong -- they were on the phone that morning when I returned home from my abortive attempt to vote.

Later, when we got word that DC had been attacked I could only think of the time I had spent there and my friends who still resided there. Then we heard a plane went down in Western PA, for a brief second I thought that day was all about me. Though we only had sporadic contact throughout the day, I was so grateful that my mom was the first person we spoke to.
This piece was written on October 2, 2002. My mom currently resides in the same house she raised me in. She has lived in Pittsburgh her whole life, save for a year in the Detroit suburbs.
 
September 10, 2001 was just a regular day for me. Although I have absolutely no specific memory of the details of that day, I know for sure that I awoke, read the paper while I ate a bowl of cereal, exercised, took a shower and got dressed, paid bills and then went to work. After work, I'm sure I went home, ate dinner, maybe took a walk and then watched TV; just a normal day in my life.

I know now that before September 11, I never imagined that the events of that day could ever take place. Because all the wars that have happened since I've been old enough to understand have been fought somewhere other that the United States, my only experience with terror/terrorism has been through textbooks, newspapers and TV. Now, since September 11, I know it can, and probably will, happen again (it can't happen a second time until it happens once).

I'm sorry I can't be more profound and I hope this is something that you had in mind.