Our grandparents' generation had Pearl Harbor. For our parents' generation, it was the JFK assassination. And our generation has 9/11.  To this day, whenever I even hear that date mentioned, I'm immediately taken back to that crisp, clear fall morning when the unthinkable happened.

Here's what I vividly remember from that day: I was doing a morning radio show in Eau Claire, Wis. when a co-worker came into our studio and told me a plane had flown into one of the World Trade Center towers in New York. I originally thought it was a small Cesna-type plane. I ran up to the news room and watched the Today show's coverage of rescue workers heading into the tower, and I remember wondering how they were going to get the hoses up that far and, at some point, repair such a massive sky-scraper.  Then the second plane hit, and I knew this wasn't a accident-- something horrible was unfolding right before our eyes.

In the ensuing hours, I remember the staff being glued to the TV in the conference room downstairs. I remember wondering how many other planes might there be. I remember finally heading home later that afternoon and noting that the weather in Eau Claire that day was almost identical to the weather in New York. I remember feeling guilty that I was still around to see experience the crisp cool fall weather after what was a hot and humid summer, when so many innocent people in New York, Washington and Pennsylvania would not be.  Living near an airport, I remember the eerie silence when all the planes were grounded. And in the days that followed, I remember coming home each night and doing nothing but watching the continuing news coverage, wondering just how such a thing could have happened.

Yes, the world changed forever that day 13 years ago. But it didn't change our resolve as Americans. And no matter how many years go by, we will never forget.

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