Monday, September 10, 2012


Eleven years ago I was training for my first marathon, NYC.  My oldest son was 2 1/2, my youngest just 6 weeks old. I had run 4 miles that morning, and a beautiful morning it was. I was sitting in my office, starting my day, listening to Howard Stern. I don't recall the exact words that made me look but they mentioned something about a plane hitting one of the World Trade Center buildings. When I turned around to look down Park Avenue, I was horrified to see the jet black smoke distinctly clouding the crisp blue sky. After watching coverage on TV with many co-workers the entire building was evacuated. As I made my way north, clueless, not really knowing what was going on or what I was doing, I stopped to look at more reports on a monitor in the window of a bank branch on Madison Avenue. The first tower fell. In shock, with many others we stood in horror. I left and continued north towards a friend's apartment who I hoped would be there when I arrived. On the way I came upon a news van on Park Avenue as commotion erupted. I stopped to see, and the second tower had fallen.

Later that day, early evening, the trains, packed with horrified people, many covered in soot, began to shuttle us home. It was silent, but for the clanking of the wheels and the subtle sobbing of many. I can still feel the hollowness in my stomach as I think about that day. I will never forget, but will never let the murderous actions prevent me or my family from living our lives.

If nothing else we owe it to those we lost to live, not recklessly, but freely in memory and honor of what was taken from them.

Tomorrow, I will still be with my beautiful wife, my sons will be 13 and 11 and my daughter will be 2 1/2. I am so very lucky to be here today and I will run for the nearly 3,000 people who were murdered that day and their families. Let's all remember and live in Peace!


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