Eight years on, to the hour.
I passed by the World Trade Center site this morning. The Fire Department Pipe Band played a lament on the corner of Cedar and Church Streets. They gather here as they have gathered for each of the anniversaries, as they will gather for the next hundred years.
Many of us who worked in the World Trade Center remember in our own way. Many don't come in to work on 9/11 and will never do so. Some gather in places such as Jeremy's Ale House in lower Manhattan where they paused eight years ago before they walked some miles across the Brooklyn Bridge.
I vary the routine each year. In 2002, I spent 9/11 morning in London, and flew home on a near-empty American Airlines flight to JFK that night. In other years, I have stayed away from work and gathered with others in lower Manhattan.
Today, I come in to work, and will pass by the WTC site in the morning, in mid-day and on the way home. I see what is, and remember what was.
I worked on the 103rd Floor of the World Trade Center, and was there late September 10, 2001. I remember it, and the many fine people I knew there, so very well.



