Twenty. Years.
It was twenty years ago That Awful Day happened.
It was a day of terror. It was a day of tears. It was a day of Heroes and heroic deeds by firefighters, police officers, and ordinary men and women.
It was a day of thunder, of smoke, of fire. It was a day of prayers, last phone calls, and hasty “I love you’s”.
It was passengers on United 93 knowing what was happening and deciding that they would “not go quietly into that goodnight”. It was Todd Beemer telling his fellow passengers “Let’s roll.” It was the end of the fight against the terrorists on the flight in a field in Shanksville, Pennsylvania.
It was firefighters in the North and South Towers climbing up the stairwells step after step, directing people heading down and hopefully to safety as they continued upwards to help the injured. It was police officers in the lobbies of the Towers and in the PATH station trying to make sure no one was left behind. It was ordinary people helping others they didn’t know flee the Towers.
It was hundreds of helmsmen and captains taking their boats, tugs, and ferries across the harbor to the south end of Manhattan, loading as many people as they could onboard and taking them to safety in New Jersey. Then turning around and doing it again...and again...and again until 500,000 people were evacuated.
It was the firefighters, police officers, and construction workers digging through the rubble piles after the Towers fell, hoping to find someone alive and removing the remains of honored dead.
It was twenty years ago...
No...
It was yesterday….