Courtesy of the Red, White and Blue

Where Were You When the World Stopped Turning?

In Memoriam: Sandra W. Bradshaw, Killed Sept. 11, 2001

As a part of Project 2996, I  wrote about another individual I never met. I'd never heard her name, either. I only knew her as a part of a group: The people who perished on 9/11.

Sandy Bradshaw: 38, Loving wife, mother of two, stewardess on Flight 93 on 9/11/01. Nineteen years have now passed, and her two children are in their teens and early twenties. Her son Nathan was a baby, and her daughter Alexandria, little more than one when their mother was taken from them.

Sandy, along with four siblings, grew up on a chicken ranch, of all places, but she dreamed of "flying the friendly skies" as a stewardess. She first became a "stew" for US Airways in 1990, but was laid off five months later. She met the man who was to become her husband, working as a pilot for US Air. By December of that same year, she was working for United Airlines.

She'd been working as a stewardess for over ten years, but with the arrival of her babies, she was cutting back her hours to spend more time with them. She was only making two, two day trips a month, the minimum amount of time she could work, when she took off on that fateful day.

Phil Bradshaw got a phone call from his wife that morning:

"Have you seen what's happening? Have you heard?" She asked in a calm voice. "We've been hijacked."

And, in the typical, gutsy manner of those aboard Flight 93, She told her husband that she and the other attendants were boiling water to throw at the hijackers.

A brave lady, a loving mom, a beloved wife, a devoted daughter, a caring sister. The last moments of her life were spent making sure that Flight 93 did not become yet another aerial bomb to be used on helpless civilians. We honor her bravery and we honor her life.

Sandy is survived by her husband, a daughter, a son, and a step-daughter, her parents, three sisters, and her brother.

She touched many lives and those who were touched by her miss her. Nineteen years later.

If I may add the same sentiments I have before, though I never met Sandy Bradshaw, I mourn for her and grieve with her family. The craven cowardice of those who would commit war by attacking defenseless civilians has not gone unavenged. Many of those who sowed the wind on 9/11 have reaped the whirlwind.

But, vengeance can never restore loss. What was taken from Sandy Bradshaw's family can never be replaced. Nor that of the 2,995 other families who lost loved ones on that day.

But, we can remember them. We can hold them in our hearts. And we can vow that so much as is in our power, it will never happen again.

Our hearts go out to the family of Sandy Bradshaw today. I hope that in some small way I have captured a bit of her essence to share. Our hearts are with you this day.
Rest in peace, Sandy.

You can read more about Sandy here:

United Stewardess Sandra W. Bradshaw

Flight crew: Sandra Bradshaw

United Heroes

Sandra Bradshaw

There's a video tribute to Sandy on You Tube here.

In Memoriam: Dwight David Darcy, Killed Sept. 11, 2001

As a part of Project 2996, I'm going to write to you about an individual I never met. I've never even heard his name. I only knew him as a part of a group: The people who perished on 9/11.

He was not a very imposing man, from his picture. I imagine you could pass him on the street and not think twice about it. Just like many of us. But, Dwight, if I may be so bold, had already lived through one World Trade Center attack before that fateful day.
He was there in 1993 when the WTC was bombed the first time. It made him a little jumpy. Sudden loud noises would startle him. For years, his wife, Veronica said, "Every time there was a bang, he would jump." But that did not deter him from returning to work.

Dwight was raising two sons, Kieran and Ryan, with his wife, living in Bronxville, N.Y., a little village about fifteen miles north of midtown Manhattan, home to about 6,500 people.

He was a Senior Attorney at the Port Authority of NY and NJ. He'd been with the Port Authority for 25 years. He was 55 at the time of the attack. A few years older than I was then. Years younger than I am now.

He served on the parish board of the St. Joseph's Roman Catholic Church in Bronxville. He loved opera. He and his wife were frequent attendees at performances at the Met and the City Opera. He was a member of the New York Athletic Club.

He had a brother, Keith T. Darcy of Pound Ridge, NY, and a sister, Joan D. Sorgi of Darien, CT. who survived him, as well as an aunt, Claire Menagh of Manhattan, an uncle, George Kindermann of New London, NH, and several nieces and nephews.

A family man, with familial ties to other families. Much like you and I.

Here's what another 2,996 blogger said about Dwight:

Dwight was a Bronx native, graduated from Fordham Prep, Fordham University, and the Fordham University School of Law. He began his legal career as an Assistant D.A. in the Bronx in 1971, and joined the Port Authority in 1977. While at the Port Authority, Dwight specialized in labor relations, serving for many years as the Head of the Labor Relations Division.

Dwight was very active in charitable works in New York City. He served as president of the Catholic Big Brothers of NY, as well as, the president of the Parish Council of St. Joseph's Church in Bronxville. Dwight was also voted a life member of the Society of the Friendly Sons of St. Patrick of NY, and made an affiliate member of the Marist Brothers for his many years of service on the board of Mt. St. Michael Academy in the Bronx.

WHAT WAS DWIGHT LIKE?

"We kind of grew up together at the authority," said his friend and colleague Jeffery Green, the general counsel for the authority's legal team, made of up 75 lawyers. "He was very calm and logical and had a good sense of humor," Green said.

Outside of work, Darcy followed his favorite sports teams: The New York Yankees, the New York Giants and college basketball teams, Green said. "He was a devoted father and sports fan. He was a very big Yankee and Giants football fan. I would see him at the games."

Darcy had a way of winning people over. "Everyone who met him liked him. He took pride in his work and his family. He was a really good individual," Green said.

I received an email from someone who knew Dwight. They had this to say:

I first met Mr. Darcy in 1968. I was a Freshman at Mt. St. Michael Academy, a private Marist (Catholic) High School in the Bronx, NY. Although he had a Law degree, Dwight Darcy started his working life as an English teacher at the “Mount”. I had him for English 1 that year. I was very interested in history, and Mr. Darcy made it a point, during his lectures, to not only teach the fine points of English Grammar and Composition, but also expounded on American and World History, to which he added a large dose of Morals and Ethics. I was always fascinated by the breadth and depth of his knowledge, and made it a point to have discussions with him on these topics, even outside of class hours. He was an excellent role model, and I considered him an inspiration and mentor. He was a dynamic and dedicated teacher, and he had a profound effect on me. He is one of the few teachers I ever had, that I truly remember with fondness.

When I heard that he left teaching to practice law for the Port Authority, I knew that he was really following his true love, which he considered the true arena of human interaction. But I knew that future students would lose the opportunity to meet a truly remarkable person.

On 9-11, I was overwhelmingly heartbroken to learn that he did not survive the attack. It seemed like a horribly cruel injustice. Here was a man who was so kind, so dynamic, so profound, and so cognizant of the needs of others, who was caught up, with so many unfortunate others, in the effects of incredible madness and evil, and the result an overwhelming hatred of all mankind. I really could not believe it had actually happened. But I remember him with honor and respect, and with a deep sense of loss.

I hope this helps in illustrating the truly excellent person that he was.

Michael Cutrera

Dwight went to work September 11th, 2001, like he had on many other mornings, I would imagine, not dreaming of the horror and chaos that would await him. He worked on the 66th floor of the North tower. According to a co-worker, he'd had surgery on his foot several weeks before and was still in a cast. It would have made it difficult for him to take the stairs to flee the building.

He died at the hands of terrorists who did not care that Dwight was president of the Catholic Big Brothers of NY, where he helped disadvantaged youths. They did not care about the grieving widow and sons he would leave behind. The brother and sister, aunt and uncle left with a sense of terrible loss. The friends and acquaintances who would miss his kind words and encouragement. His death was not meaningless, because there is still meaning even when evil men commit evil deeds. His death was tragic in that it cut him off from whatever productive years he had left , the communion he spent with family and friends and the good deeds he would have done had he lived.

And though I never met Mr. Darcy, I mourn for him and grieve with his family. The craven cowardice of those who would commit war by attacking defenseless civilians has not gone unavenged. Many of those who sowed the wind on 9/11 have reaped the whirlwind.

But, vengeance can never restore loss. What was taken from Dwight Darcy's family can never be replaced. Nor that of the 2,995 other families who lost loved ones on that day.

But, we can remember them. We can hold them in our hearts. And we can vow that so much as is in our power, it will never happen again.

Our hearts go out to the family of Dwight Darcy today. I hope that in some small way I have captured a bit of his essence to share. Our hearts are with you this day.
Rest in peace, Mr. Darcy.


"Profiles in Grief" of The New York Times
Paid notice NYT
A Step in the Right Direction

Where Were You When The World Stopped Turning?

Alan Jackson - Where Were You When The World Stopped Turning?

In Memoriam: Sandra W. Bradshaw, Killed Sept. 11, 2001

As a part of Project 2996, I  wrote about another individual I never met. I'd never heard her name, either. I only knew her as a part of a group: The people who perished on 9/11.

Sandy Bradshaw: 38, Loving wife, mother of two, stewardess on Flight 93 on 9/11/01. Eighteen years have now passed, and her two children are in their teens. Her son Nathan was a baby, and her daughter Alexandria, little more than one when their mother was taken from them.

Sandy, along with four siblings, grew up on a chicken ranch, of all places, but she dreamed of "flying the friendly skies" as a stewardess. She first became a "stew" for US Airways in 1990, but was laid off five months later. She met the man who was to become her husband, working as a pilot for US Air. By December of that same year, she was working for United Airlines.

She'd been working as a stewardess for over ten years, but with the arrival of her babies, she was cutting back her hours to spend more time with them. She was only making two, two day trips a month, the minimum amount of time she could work, when she took off on that fateful day.

Phil Bradshaw got a phone call from his wife that morning:

"Have you seen what's happening? Have you heard?" She asked in a calm voice. "We've been hijacked."

And, in the typical, gutsy manner of those aboard Flight 93, She told her husband that she and the other attendants were boiling water to throw at the hijackers.

A brave lady, a loving mom, a beloved wife, a devoted daughter, a caring sister. The last moments of her life were spent making sure that Flight 93 did not become yet another aerial bomb to be used on helpless civilians. We honor her bravery and we honor her life.

Sandy is survived by her husband, a daughter, a son, and a step-daughter, her parents, three sisters, and her brother.

She touched many lives and those who were touched by her miss her. Eighteen years later.

If I may add the same sentiments I have before, though I never met Sandy Bradshaw, I mourn for her and grieve with her family. The craven cowardice of those who would commit war by attacking defenseless civilians has not gone unavenged. Many of those who sowed the wind on 9/11 have reaped the whirlwind.

But, vengeance can never restore loss. What was taken from Sandy Bradshaw's family can never be replaced. Nor that of the 2,995 other families who lost loved ones on that day.

But, we can remember them. We can hold them in our hearts. And we can vow that so much as is in our power, it will never happen again.

Our hearts go out to the family of Sandy Bradshaw today. I hope that in some small way I have captured a bit of her essence to share. Our hearts are with you this day.
Rest in peace, Sandy.

You can read more about Sandy here:

United Stewardess Sandra W. Bradshaw

Flight crew: Sandra Bradshaw

United Heroes

Sandra Bradshaw

There's a video tribute to Sandy on You Tube here.

In Memoriam: Dwight David Darcy, Killed Sept. 11, 2001

As a part of Project 2996, I'm going to write to you about an individual I never met. I've never even heard his name. I only knew him as a part of a group: The people who perished on 9/11.

He was not a very imposing man, from his picture. I imagine you could pass him on the street and not think twice about it. Just like many of us. But, Dwight, if I may be so bold, had already lived through one World Trade Center attack before that fateful day.
He was there in 1993 when the WTC was bombed the first time. It made him a little jumpy. Sudden loud noises would startle him. For years, his wife, Veronica said, "Every time there was a bang, he would jump." But that did not deter him from returning to work.

Dwight was raising two sons, Kieran and Ryan, with his wife, living in Bronxville, N.Y., a little village about fifteen miles north of midtown Manhattan, home to about 6,500 people.

He was a Senior Attorney at the Port Authority of NY and NJ. He'd been with the Port Authority for 25 years. He was 55 at the time of the attack. A few years older than I was then. Years younger than I am now.

He served on the parish board of the St. Joseph's Roman Catholic Church in Bronxville. He loved opera. He and his wife were frequent attendees at performances at the Met and the City Opera. He was a member of the New York Athletic Club.

He had a brother, Keith T. Darcy of Pound Ridge, NY, and a sister, Joan D. Sorgi of Darien, CT. who survived him, as well as an aunt, Claire Menagh of Manhattan, an uncle, George Kindermann of New London, NH, and several nieces and nephews.

A family man, with familial ties to other families. Much like you and I.

Here's what another 2,996 blogger said about Dwight:

Dwight was a Bronx native, graduated from Fordham Prep, Fordham University, and the Fordham University School of Law. He began his legal career as an Assistant D.A. in the Bronx in 1971, and joined the Port Authority in 1977. While at the Port Authority, Dwight specialized in labor relations, serving for many years as the Head of the Labor Relations Division.

Dwight was very active in charitable works in New York City. He served as president of the Catholic Big Brothers of NY, as well as, the president of the Parish Council of St. Joseph's Church in Bronxville. Dwight was also voted a life member of the Society of the Friendly Sons of St. Patrick of NY, and made an affiliate member of the Marist Brothers for his many years of service on the board of Mt. St. Michael Academy in the Bronx.

WHAT WAS DWIGHT LIKE?

"We kind of grew up together at the authority," said his friend and colleague Jeffery Green, the general counsel for the authority's legal team, made of up 75 lawyers. "He was very calm and logical and had a good sense of humor," Green said.

Outside of work, Darcy followed his favorite sports teams: The New York Yankees, the New York Giants and college basketball teams, Green said. "He was a devoted father and sports fan. He was a very big Yankee and Giants football fan. I would see him at the games."

Darcy had a way of winning people over. "Everyone who met him liked him. He took pride in his work and his family. He was a really good individual," Green said.

I received an email from someone who knew Dwight. They had this to say:

I first met Mr. Darcy in 1968. I was a Freshman at Mt. St. Michael Academy, a private Marist (Catholic) High School in the Bronx, NY. Although he had a Law degree, Dwight Darcy started his working life as an English teacher at the “Mount”. I had him for English 1 that year. I was very interested in history, and Mr. Darcy made it a point, during his lectures, to not only teach the fine points of English Grammar and Composition, but also expounded on American and World History, to which he added a large dose of Morals and Ethics. I was always fascinated by the breadth and depth of his knowledge, and made it a point to have discussions with him on these topics, even outside of class hours. He was an excellent role model, and I considered him an inspiration and mentor. He was a dynamic and dedicated teacher, and he had a profound effect on me. He is one of the few teachers I ever had, that I truly remember with fondness.

When I heard that he left teaching to practice law for the Port Authority, I knew that he was really following his true love, which he considered the true arena of human interaction. But I knew that future students would lose the opportunity to meet a truly remarkable person.

On 9-11, I was overwhelmingly heartbroken to learn that he did not survive the attack. It seemed like a horribly cruel injustice. Here was a man who was so kind, so dynamic, so profound, and so cognizant of the needs of others, who was caught up, with so many unfortunate others, in the effects of incredible madness and evil, and the result an overwhelming hatred of all mankind. I really could not believe it had actually happened. But I remember him with honor and respect, and with a deep sense of loss.

I hope this helps in illustrating the truly excellent person that he was.

Michael Cutrera

Dwight went to work September 11th, 2001, like he had on many other mornings, I would imagine, not dreaming of the horror and chaos that would await him. He worked on the 66th floor of the North tower. According to a co-worker, he'd had surgery on his foot several weeks before and was still in a cast. It would have made it difficult for him to take the stairs to flee the building.

He died at the hands of terrorists who did not care that Dwight was president of the Catholic Big Brothers of NY, where he helped disadvantaged youths. They did not care about the grieving widow and sons he would leave behind. The brother and sister, aunt and uncle left with a sense of terrible loss. The friends and acquaintances who would miss his kind words and encouragement. His death was not meaningless, because there is still meaning even when evil men commit evil deeds. His death was tragic in that it cut him off from whatever productive years he had left , the communion he spent with family and friends and the good deeds he would have done had he lived.

And though I never met Mr. Darcy, I mourn for him and grieve with his family. The craven cowardice of those who would commit war by attacking defenseless civilians has not gone unavenged. Many of those who sowed the wind on 9/11 have reaped the whirlwind.

But, vengeance can never restore loss. What was taken from Dwight Darcy's family can never be replaced. Nor that of the 2,995 other families who lost loved ones on that day.

But, we can remember them. We can hold them in our hearts. And we can vow that so much as is in our power, it will never happen again.

Our hearts go out to the family of Dwight Darcy today. I hope that in some small way I have captured a bit of his essence to share. Our hearts are with you this day.
Rest in peace, Mr. Darcy.


"Profiles in Grief" of The New York Times
Paid notice NYT
A Step in the Right Direction

In Memoriam: Sandra W. Bradshaw, Killed Sept. 11, 2001

As a part of Project 2996, I  wrote about another individual I never met. I'd never heard her name, either. I only knew her as a part of a group: The people who perished on 9/11.

Sandy Bradshaw: 38, Loving wife, mother of two, stewardess on Flight 93 on 9/11/01. Seventeen years have now passed, and her two children are in their teens. Her son Nathan was a baby, and her daughter Alexandria, little more than one when their mother was taken from them.

Sandy, along with four siblings, grew up on a chicken ranch, of all places, but she dreamed of "flying the friendly skies" as a stewardess. She first became a "stew" for US Airways in 1990, but was laid off five months later. She met the man who was to become her husband, working as a pilot for US Air. By December of that same year, she was working for United Airlines.

She'd been working as a stewardess for over ten years, but with the arrival of her babies, she was cutting back her hours to spend more time with them. She was only making two, two day trips a month, the minimum amount of time she could work, when she took off on that fateful day.

Phil Bradshaw got a phone call from his wife that morning:

"Have you seen what's happening? Have you heard?" She asked in a calm voice. "We've been hijacked."

And, in the typical, gutsy manner of those aboard Flight 93, She told her husband that she and the other attendants were boiling water to throw at the hijackers.

A brave lady, a loving mom, a beloved wife, a devoted daughter, a caring sister. The last moments of her life were spent making sure that Flight 93 did not become yet another aerial bomb to be used on helpless civilians. We honor her bravery and we honor her life.

Sandy is survived by her husband, a daughter, a son, and a step-daughter, her parents, three sisters, and her brother.

She touched many lives and those who were touched by her miss her. Seventeen years later.

If I may add the same sentiments I have before, though I never met Sandy Bradshaw, I mourn for her and grieve with her family. The craven cowardice of those who would commit war by attacking defenseless civilians has not gone unavenged. Many of those who sowed the wind on 9/11 have reaped the whirlwind.

But, vengeance can never restore loss. What was taken from Sandy Bradshaw's family can never be replaced. Nor that of the 2,995 other families who lost loved ones on that day.

But, we can remember them. We can hold them in our hearts. And we can vow that so much as is in our power, it will never happen again.

Our hearts go out to the family of Sandy Bradshaw today. I hope that in some small way I have captured a bit of her essence to share. Our hearts are with you this day.
Rest in peace, Sandy.

You can read more about Sandy here:

United Stewardess Sandra W. Bradshaw

Flight crew: Sandra Bradshaw

United Heroes

Sandra Bradshaw

There's a video tribute to Sandy on You Tube here.

In Memoriam: Dwight David Darcy, Killed Sept. 11, 2001

As a part of Project 2996, I'm going to write to you about an individual I never met. I've never even heard his name. I only knew him as a part of a group: The people who perished on 9/11.

He was not a very imposing man, from his picture. I imagine you could pass him on the street and not think twice about it. Just like many of us. But, Dwight, if I may be so bold, had already lived through one World Trade Center attack before that fateful day.
He was there in 1993 when the WTC was bombed the first time. It made him a little jumpy. Sudden loud noises would startle him. For years, his wife, Veronica said, "Every time there was a bang, he would jump." But that did not deter him from returning to work.

Dwight was raising two sons, Kieran and Ryan, with his wife, living in Bronxville, N.Y., a little village about fifteen miles north of midtown Manhattan, home to about 6,500 people.

He was a Senior Attorney at the Port Authority of NY and NJ. He'd been with the Port Authority for 25 years. He was 55 at the time of the attack. A few years older than I was then. I few years younger than I am now.

He served on the parish board of the St. Joseph's Roman Catholic Church in Bronxville. He loved opera. He and his wife were frequent attendees at performances at the Met and the City Opera. He was a member of the New York Athletic Club.

He had a brother, Keith T. Darcy of Pound Ridge, NY, and a sister, Joan D. Sorgi of Darien, CT. who survived him, as well as an aunt, Claire Menagh of Manhattan, an uncle, George Kindermann of New London, NH, and several nieces and nephews.

A family man, with familial ties to other families. Much like you and I.

Here's what another 2,996 blogger said about Dwight:

Dwight was a Bronx native, graduated from Fordham Prep, Fordham University, and the Fordham University School of Law. He began his legal career as an Assistant D.A. in the Bronx in 1971, and joined the Port Authority in 1977. While at the Port Authority, Dwight specialized in labor relations, serving for many years as the Head of the Labor Relations Division.

Dwight was very active in charitable works in New York City. He served as president of the Catholic Big Brothers of NY, as well as, the president of the Parish Council of St. Joseph's Church in Bronxville. Dwight was also voted a life member of the Society of the Friendly Sons of St. Patrick of NY, and made an affiliate member of the Marist Brothers for his many years of service on the board of Mt. St. Michael Academy in the Bronx.

WHAT WAS DWIGHT LIKE?

"We kind of grew up together at the authority," said his friend and colleague Jeffery Green, the general counsel for the authority's legal team, made of up 75 lawyers. "He was very calm and logical and had a good sense of humor," Green said.

Outside of work, Darcy followed his favorite sports teams: The New York Yankees, the New York Giants and college basketball teams, Green said. "He was a devoted father and sports fan. He was a very big Yankee and Giants football fan. I would see him at the games."

Darcy had a way of winning people over. "Everyone who met him liked him. He took pride in his work and his family. He was a really good individual," Green said.

I received an email from someone who knew Dwight. They had this to say:

I first met Mr. Darcy in 1968. I was a Freshman at Mt. St. Michael Academy, a private Marist (Catholic) High School in the Bronx, NY. Although he had a Law degree, Dwight Darcy started his working life as an English teacher at the “Mount”. I had him for English 1 that year. I was very interested in history, and Mr. Darcy made it a point, during his lectures, to not only teach the fine points of English Grammar and Composition, but also expounded on American and World History, to which he added a large dose of Morals and Ethics. I was always fascinated by the breadth and depth of his knowledge, and made it a point to have discussions with him on these topics, even outside of class hours. He was an excellent role model, and I considered him an inspiration and mentor. He was a dynamic and dedicated teacher, and he had a profound effect on me. He is one of the few teachers I ever had, that I truly remember with fondness.

When I heard that he left teaching to practice law for the Port Authority, I knew that he was really following his true love, which he considered the true arena of human interaction. But I knew that future students would lose the opportunity to meet a truly remarkable person.

On 9-11, I was overwhelmingly heartbroken to learn that he did not survive the attack. It seemed like a horribly cruel injustice. Here was a man who was so kind, so dynamic, so profound, and so cognizant of the needs of others, who was caught up, with so many unfortunate others, in the effects of incredible madness and evil, and the result an overwhelming hatred of all mankind. I really could not believe it had actually happened. But I remember him with honor and respect, and with a deep sense of loss.

I hope this helps in illustrating the truly excellent person that he was.

Michael Cutrera

Dwight went to work September 11th, 2001, like he had on many other mornings, I would imagine, not dreaming of the horror and chaos that would await him. He worked on the 66th floor of the North tower. According to a co-worker, he'd had surgery on his foot several weeks before and was still in a cast. It would have made it difficult for him to take the stairs to flee the building.

He died at the hands of terrorists who did not care that Dwight was president of the Catholic Big Brothers of NY, where he helped disadvantaged youths. They did not care about the grieving widow and sons he would leave behind. The brother and sister, aunt and uncle left with a sense of terrible loss. The friends and acquaintances who would miss his kind words and encouragement. His death was not meaningless, because there is still meaning even when evil men commit evil deeds. His death was tragic in that it cut him off from whatever productive years he had left , the communion he spent with family and friends and the good deeds he would have done had he lived.

And though I never met Mr. Darcy, I mourn for him and grieve with his family. The craven cowardice of those who would commit war by attacking defenseless civilians has not gone unavenged. Many of those who sowed the wind on 9/11 have reaped the whirlwind.

But, vengeance can never restore loss. What was taken from Dwight Darcy's family can never be replaced. Nor that of the 2,995 other families who lost loved ones on that day.

But, we can remember them. We can hold them in our hearts. And we can vow that so much as is in our power, it will never happen again.

Our hearts go out to the family of Dwight Darcy today. I hope that in some small way I have captured a bit of his essence to share. Our hearts are with you this day.
Rest in peace, Mr. Darcy.


"Profiles in Grief" of The New York Times
Paid notice NYT
A Step in the Right Direction

In Memoriam: Sandra W. Bradshaw, Killed Sept. 11, 2001

As a part of Project 2996, I  wrote about another individual I never met. I'd never heard her name, either. I only knew her as a part of a group: The people who perished on 9/11.

Sandy Bradshaw: 38, Loving wife, mother of two, stewardess on Flight 93 on 9/11/01. Sixteen years have now passed, and her two children are in their teens. Her son Nathan was a baby, and her daughter Alexandria, little more than one when their mother was taken from them.

Sandy, along with four siblings, grew up on a chicken ranch, of all places, but she dreamed of "flying the friendly skies" as a stewardess. She first became a "stew" for US Airways in 1990, but was laid off five months later. She met the man who was to become her husband, working as a pilot for US Air. By December of that same year, she was working for United Airlines.

She'd been working as a stewardess for over ten years, but with the arrival of her babies, she was cutting back her hours to spend more time with them. She was only making two, two day trips a month, the minimum amount of time she could work, when she took off on that fateful day.

Phil Bradshaw got a phone call from his wife that morning:

"Have you seen what's happening? Have you heard?" She asked in a calm voice. "We've been hijacked."

And, in the typical, gutsy manner of those aboard Flight 93, She told her husband that she and the other attendants were boiling water to throw at the hijackers.

A brave lady, a loving mom, a beloved wife, a devoted daughter, a caring sister. The last moments of her life were spent making sure that Flight 93 did not become yet another aerial bomb to be used on helpless civilians. We honor her bravery and we honor her life.

Sandy is survived by her husband, a daughter, a son, and a step-daughter, her parents, three sisters, and her brother.

She touched many lives and those who were touched by her miss her. Sixteen years later.

If I may add the same sentiments I have before, though I never met Sandy Bradshaw, I mourn for her and grieve with her family. The craven cowardice of those who would commit war by attacking defenseless civilians has not gone unavenged. Many of those who sowed the wind on 9/11 have reaped the whirlwind.

But, vengeance can never restore loss. What was taken from Sandy Bradshaw's family can never be replaced. Nor that of the 2,995 other families who lost loved ones on that day.

But, we can remember them. We can hold them in our hearts. And we can vow that so much as is in our power, it will never happen again.

Our hearts go out to the family of Sandy Bradshaw today. I hope that in some small way I have captured a bit of her essence to share. Our hearts are with you this day.
Rest in peace, Sandy.

You can read more about Sandy here:

United Stewardess Sandra W. Bradshaw

Flight crew: Sandra Bradshaw

United Heroes

Sandra Bradshaw

There's a video tribute to Sandy on You Tube here.

In Memoriam: Dwight David Darcy, Killed Sept. 11, 2001

I hope you never get tired of hearing this. As a part of Project 2996, I wrote about an individual I never met. I had never even heard his name. I only knew him as a part of a group: The people who perished on 9/11/2001.

He was not a very imposing man, from his picture. I imagine you could pass him on the street and not think twice about it. Just like many of us. But, Dwight, if I may be so familiar, had already lived through one World Trade Center attack before that fateful day.
He was there in 1993 when the WTC was bombed the first time. It made him a little jumpy. Sudden loud noises would startle him. For years, his wife, Veronica said, "Every time there was a bang, he would jump." But that did not deter him from returning to work.

Dwight was raising two sons, Kieran and Ryan, with his wife, living in Bronxville, N.Y., a little village about fifteen miles north of midtown Manhattan, home to about 6,500 people.

He was a Senior Attorney at the Port Authority of NY and NJ. He'd been with the Port Authority for 25 years. He was 55 at the time of the attack. A few years older than I was then. A decade or so younger than I am now.

He served on the parish board of the St. Joseph's Roman Catholic Church in Bronxville. He loved opera. He and his wife were frequent attendees at performances at the Met and the City Opera. He was a member of the New York Athletic Club.

He had a brother, Keith T. Darcy of Pound Ridge, NY, and a sister, Joan D. Sorgi of Darien, CT. who survived him, as well as an aunt, Claire Menagh of Manhattan, an uncle, George Kindermann of New London, NH, and several nieces and nephews.

A family man, with familial ties to other families. Much like you and I.

Here's what another 2,996 blogger said about Dwight:

Dwight was a Bronx native, graduated from Fordham Prep, Fordham University, and the Fordham University School of Law. He began his legal career as an Assistant D.A. in the Bronx in 1971, and joined the Port Authority in 1977. While at the Port Authority, Dwight specialized in labor relations, serving for many years as the Head of the Labor Relations Division.

Dwight was very active in charitable works in New York City. He served as president of the Catholic Big Brothers of NY, as well as, the president of the Parish Council of St. Joseph's Church in Bronxville. Dwight was also voted a life member of the Society of the Friendly Sons of St. Patrick of NY, and made an affiliate member of the Marist Brothers for his many years of service on the board of Mt. St. Michael Academy in the Bronx.

WHAT WAS DWIGHT LIKE?

"We kind of grew up together at the authority," said his friend and colleague Jeffery Green, the general counsel for the authority's legal team, made of up 75 lawyers. "He was very calm and logical and had a good sense of humor," Green said.

Outside of work, Darcy followed his favorite sports teams: The New York Yankees, the New York Giants and college basketball teams, Green said. "He was a devoted father and sports fan. He was a very big Yankee and Giants football fan. I would see him at the games."

Darcy had a way of winning people over. "Everyone who met him liked him. He took pride in his work and his family. He was a really good individual," Green said.

I received an email from someone who knew Dwight. They had this to say:

I first met Mr. Darcy in 1968. I was a Freshman at Mt. St. Michael Academy, a private Marist (Catholic) High School in the Bronx, NY. Although he had a Law degree, Dwight Darcy started his working life as an English teacher at the “Mount”. I had him for English 1 that year. I was very interested in history, and Mr. Darcy made it a point, during his lectures, to not only teach the fine points of English Grammar and Composition, but also expounded on American and World History, to which he added a large dose of Morals and Ethics. I was always fascinated by the breadth and depth of his knowledge, and made it a point to have discussions with him on these topics, even outside of class hours. He was an excellent role model, and I considered him an inspiration and mentor. He was a dynamic and dedicated teacher, and he had a profound effect on me. He is one of the few teachers I ever had, that I truly remember with fondness.

When I heard that he left teaching to practice law for the Port Authority, I knew that he was really following his true love, which he considered the true arena of human interaction. But I knew that future students would lose the opportunity to meet a truly remarkable person.

On 9-11, I was overwhelmingly heartbroken to learn that he did not survive the attack. It seemed like a horribly cruel injustice. Here was a man who was so kind, so dynamic, so profound, and so cognizant of the needs of others, who was caught up, with so many unfortunate others, in the effects of incredible madness and evil, and the result an overwhelming hatred of all mankind. I really could not believe it had actually happened. But I remember him with honor and respect, and with a deep sense of loss.

I hope this helps in illustrating the truly excellent person that he was.

Michael Cutrera

Dwight went to work September 11th, 2001, like he had on many other mornings, I would imagine, not dreaming of the horror and chaos that would await him. He worked on the 66th floor of the North tower. According to a co-worker, he'd had surgery on his foot several weeks before and was still in a cast. It would have made it difficult for him to take the stairs to flee the building.

He died at the hands of terrorists who did not care that Dwight was president of the Catholic Big Brothers of NY, where he helped disadvantaged youths. They did not care about the grieving widow and sons he would leave behind. The brother and sister, aunt and uncle left with a sense of terrible loss. The friends and acquaintances who would miss his kind words and encouragement. His death was not meaningless, because there is still meaning even when evil men commit evil deeds. His death was tragic in that it cut him off from whatever productive years he had left , the communion he spent with family and friends and the good deeds he would have done had he lived.

And though I never met Mr. Darcy, I mourn for him and grieve with his family. The craven cowardice of those who would commit war by attacking defenseless civilians has not gone unavenged. Many of those who sowed the wind on 9/11 have reaped the whirlwind.

But, vengeance can never restore loss. What was taken from Dwight Darcy's family can never be replaced. Nor that of the 2,995 other families who lost loved ones on that day.

But, we can remember them. We can hold them in our hearts. And we can vow that so much as is in our power, it will never happen again.

Our hearts go out to the family of Dwight Darcy today. I hope that in some small way I have captured a bit of his essence to share. Our hearts are with you this day.
Rest in peace, Mr. Darcy.


"Profiles in Grief" of The New York Times
Paid notice NYT
A Step in the Right Direction

In Memoriam: Sandra W. Bradshaw, Killed Sept. 11, 2001

As a part of Project 2996, I'm going to write to you about another individual I never met. I've never heard her name, either. I only knew her as a part of a group: The people who perished on 9/11.

Sandy Bradshaw: 38, Loving wife, mother of two, stewardess on Flight 93 on 9/11/01. Fifteen years have now passed, and her two children are in their teens. Her son Nathan was a baby, and her daughter Alexandria, little more than one when their mother was taken from them.

Sandy, along with four siblings, grew up on a chicken ranch, of all places, but she dreamed of "flying the friendly skies" as a stewardess. She first became a "stew" for US Airways in 1990, but was laid off five months later. She met the man who was to become her husband, working as a pilot for US Air. By December of that same year, she was working for United Airlines.

She'd been working as a stewardess for over ten years, but with the arrival of her babies, she was cutting back her hours to spend more time with them. She was only making two, two day trips a month, the minimum amount of time she could work, when she took off on that fateful day.

Phil Bradshaw got a phone call from his wife that morning:

"Have you seen what's happening? Have you heard?" She asked in a calm voice. "We've been hijacked."

And, in the typical, gutsy manner of those aboard Flight 93, She told her husband that she and the other attendants were boiling water to throw at the hijackers.

A brave lady, a loving mom, a beloved wife, a devoted daughter, a caring sister. The last moments of her life were spent making sure that Flight 93 did not become yet another aerial bomb to be used on helpless civilians. We honor her bravery and we honor her life.

Sandy is survived by her husband, a daughter, a son, and a step-daughter, her parents, three sisters, and her brother.

She touched many lives and those who were touched by her miss her. Fifteen years later.

If I may add the same sentiments I have before, though I never met Sandy Bradshaw, I mourn for her and grieve with her family. The craven cowardice of those who would commit war by attacking defenseless civilians has not gone unavenged. Many of those who sowed the wind on 9/11 have reaped the whirlwind.

But, vengeance can never restore loss. What was taken from Sandy Bradshaw's family can never be replaced. Nor that of the 2,995 other families who lost loved ones on that day.

But, we can remember them. We can hold them in our hearts. And we can vow that so much as is in our power, it will never happen again.

Our hearts go out to the family of Sandy Bradshaw today. I hope that in some small way I have captured a bit of her essence to share. Our hearts are with you this day.
Rest in peace, Sandy.

You can read more about Sandy here:

United Stewardess Sandra W. Bradshaw

Flight crew: Sandra Bradshaw

United Heroes

Sandra Bradshaw

There's a video tribute to Sandy on You Tube here.

In Memoriam: Dwight David Darcy, Killed Sept. 11, 2001

I hope you never get tired of hearing this. As a part of Project 2996, I wrote about an individual I never met. I had never even heard his name. I only knew him as a part of a group: The people who perished on 9/11/2001.

He was not a very imposing man, from his picture. I imagine you could pass him on the street and not think twice about it. Just like many of us. But, Dwight, if I may be so familiar, had already lived through one World Trade Center attack before that fateful day.
He was there in 1993 when the WTC was bombed the first time. It made him a little jumpy. Sudden loud noises would startle him. For years, his wife, Veronica said, "Every time there was a bang, he would jump." But that did not deter him from returning to work.

Dwight was raising two sons, Kieran and Ryan, with his wife, living in Bronxville, N.Y., a little village about fifteen miles north of midtown Manhattan, home to about 6,500 people.

He was a Senior Attorney at the Port Authority of NY and NJ. He'd been with the Port Authority for 25 years. He was 55 at the time of the attack. A few years older than I was then. A decade or so younger than I am now.

He served on the parish board of the St. Joseph's Roman Catholic Church in Bronxville. He loved opera. He and his wife were frequent attendees at performances at the Met and the City Opera. He was a member of the New York Athletic Club.

He had a brother, Keith T. Darcy of Pound Ridge, NY, and a sister, Joan D. Sorgi of Darien, CT. who survived him, as well as an aunt, Claire Menagh of Manhattan, an uncle, George Kindermann of New London, NH, and several nieces and nephews.

A family man, with familial ties to other families. Much like you and I.

Here's what another 2,996 blogger said about Dwight:

Dwight was a Bronx native, graduated from Fordham Prep, Fordham University, and the Fordham University School of Law. He began his legal career as an Assistant D.A. in the Bronx in 1971, and joined the Port Authority in 1977. While at the Port Authority, Dwight specialized in labor relations, serving for many years as the Head of the Labor Relations Division.

Dwight was very active in charitable works in New York City. He served as president of the Catholic Big Brothers of NY, as well as, the president of the Parish Council of St. Joseph's Church in Bronxville. Dwight was also voted a life member of the Society of the Friendly Sons of St. Patrick of NY, and made an affiliate member of the Marist Brothers for his many years of service on the board of Mt. St. Michael Academy in the Bronx.

WHAT WAS DWIGHT LIKE?

"We kind of grew up together at the authority," said his friend and colleague Jeffery Green, the general counsel for the authority's legal team, made of up 75 lawyers. "He was very calm and logical and had a good sense of humor," Green said.

Outside of work, Darcy followed his favorite sports teams: The New York Yankees, the New York Giants and college basketball teams, Green said. "He was a devoted father and sports fan. He was a very big Yankee and Giants football fan. I would see him at the games."

Darcy had a way of winning people over. "Everyone who met him liked him. He took pride in his work and his family. He was a really good individual," Green said.

I received an email from someone who knew Dwight. They had this to say:

I first met Mr. Darcy in 1968. I was a Freshman at Mt. St. Michael Academy, a private Marist (Catholic) High School in the Bronx, NY. Although he had a Law degree, Dwight Darcy started his working life as an English teacher at the “Mount”. I had him for English 1 that year. I was very interested in history, and Mr. Darcy made it a point, during his lectures, to not only teach the fine points of English Grammar and Composition, but also expounded on American and World History, to which he added a large dose of Morals and Ethics. I was always fascinated by the breadth and depth of his knowledge, and made it a point to have discussions with him on these topics, even outside of class hours. He was an excellent role model, and I considered him an inspiration and mentor. He was a dynamic and dedicated teacher, and he had a profound effect on me. He is one of the few teachers I ever had, that I truly remember with fondness.

When I heard that he left teaching to practice law for the Port Authority, I knew that he was really following his true love, which he considered the true arena of human interaction. But I knew that future students would lose the opportunity to meet a truly remarkable person.

On 9-11, I was overwhelmingly heartbroken to learn that he did not survive the attack. It seemed like a horribly cruel injustice. Here was a man who was so kind, so dynamic, so profound, and so cognizant of the needs of others, who was caught up, with so many unfortunate others, in the effects of incredible madness and evil, and the result an overwhelming hatred of all mankind. I really could not believe it had actually happened. But I remember him with honor and respect, and with a deep sense of loss.

I hope this helps in illustrating the truly excellent person that he was.

Michael Cutrera

Dwight went to work September 11th, 2001, like he had on many other mornings, I would imagine, not dreaming of the horror and chaos that would await him. He worked on the 66th floor of the North tower. According to a co-worker, he'd had surgery on his foot several weeks before and was still in a cast. It would have made it difficult for him to take the stairs to flee the building.

He died at the hands of terrorists who did not care that Dwight was president of the Catholic Big Brothers of NY, where he helped disadvantaged youths. They did not care about the grieving widow and sons he would leave behind. The brother and sister, aunt and uncle left with a sense of terrible loss. The friends and acquaintances who would miss his kind words and encouragement. His death was not meaningless, because there is still meaning even when evil men commit evil deeds. His death was tragic in that it cut him off from whatever productive years he had left , the communion he spent with family and friends and the good deeds he would have done had he lived.

And though I never met Mr. Darcy, I mourn for him and grieve with his family. The craven cowardice of those who would commit war by attacking defenseless civilians has not gone unavenged. Many of those who sowed the wind on 9/11 have reaped the whirlwind.

But, vengeance can never restore loss. What was taken from Dwight Darcy's family can never be replaced. Nor that of the 2,995 other families who lost loved ones on that day.

But, we can remember them. We can hold them in our hearts. And we can vow that so much as is in our power, it will never happen again.

Our hearts go out to the family of Dwight Darcy today. I hope that in some small way I have captured a bit of his essence to share. Our hearts are with you this day.
Rest in peace, Mr. Darcy.


"Profiles in Grief" of The New York Times
Paid notice NYT
A Step in the Right Direction

In Memoriam: Dwight David Darcy, Killed Sept. 11, 2001

As a part of Project 2996, I'm going to write to you about an individual I never met. I've never even heard his name. I only knew him as a part of a group: The people who perished on 9/11.

He was not a very imposing man, from his picture. I imagine you could pass him on the street and not think twice about it. Just like many of us. But, Dwight, if I may be so bold, had already lived through one World Trade Center attack before that fateful day.
He was there in 1993 when the WTC was bombed the first time. It made him a little jumpy. Sudden loud noises would startle him. For years, his wife, Veronica said, "Every time there was a bang, he would jump." But that did not deter him from returning to work.

Dwight was raising two sons, Kieran and Ryan, with his wife, living in Bronxville, N.Y., a little village about fifteen miles north of midtown Manhattan, home to about 6,500 people.

He was a Senior Attorney at the Port Authority of NY and NJ. He'd been with the Port Authority for 25 years. He was 55 at the time of the attack. A few years older than I was then. I few years younger than I am now.

He served on the parish board of the St. Joseph's Roman Catholic Church in Bronxville. He loved opera. He and his wife were frequent attendees at performances at the Met and the City Opera. He was a member of the New York Athletic Club.

He had a brother, Keith T. Darcy of Pound Ridge, NY, and a sister, Joan D. Sorgi of Darien, CT. who survived him, as well as an aunt, Claire Menagh of Manhattan, an uncle, George Kindermann of New London, NH, and several nieces and nephews.

A family man, with familial ties to other families. Much like you and I.

Here's what another 2,996 blogger said about Dwight five years ago:

Dwight was a Bronx native, graduated from Fordham Prep, Fordham University, and the Fordham University School of Law. He began his legal career as an Assistant D.A. in the Bronx in 1971, and joined the Port Authority in 1977. While at the Port Authority, Dwight specialized in labor relations, serving for many years as the Head of the Labor Relations Division.

Dwight was very active in charitable works in New York City. He served as president of the Catholic Big Brothers of NY, as well as, the president of the Parish Council of St. Joseph's Church in Bronxville. Dwight was also voted a life member of the Society of the Friendly Sons of St. Patrick of NY, and made an affiliate member of the Marist Brothers for his many years of service on the board of Mt. St. Michael Academy in the Bronx.

WHAT WAS DWIGHT LIKE?

"We kind of grew up together at the authority," said his friend and colleague Jeffery Green, the general counsel for the authority's legal team, made of up 75 lawyers. "He was very calm and logical and had a good sense of humor," Green said.

Outside of work, Darcy followed his favorite sports teams: The New York Yankees, the New York Giants and college basketball teams, Green said. "He was a devoted father and sports fan. He was a very big Yankee and Giants football fan. I would see him at the games."

Darcy had a way of winning people over. "Everyone who met him liked him. He took pride in his work and his family. He was a really good individual," Green said.

I received an email from someone who knew Dwight. They had this to say:

I first met Mr. Darcy in 1968. I was a Freshman at Mt. St. Michael Academy, a private Marist (Catholic) High School in the Bronx, NY. Although he had a Law degree, Dwight Darcy started his working life as an English teacher at the “Mount”. I had him for English 1 that year. I was very interested in history, and Mr. Darcy made it a point, during his lectures, to not only teach the fine points of English Grammar and Composition, but also expounded on American and World History, to which he added a large dose of Morals and Ethics. I was always fascinated by the breadth and depth of his knowledge, and made it a point to have discussions with him on these topics, even outside of class hours. He was an excellent role model, and I considered him an inspiration and mentor. He was a dynamic and dedicated teacher, and he had a profound effect on me. He is one of the few teachers I ever had, that I truly remember with fondness.

When I heard that he left teaching to practice law for the Port Authority, I knew that he was really following his true love, which he considered the true arena of human interaction. But I knew that future students would lose the opportunity to meet a truly remarkable person.

On 9-11, I was overwhelmingly heartbroken to learn that he did not survive the attack. It seemed like a horribly cruel injustice. Here was a man who was so kind, so dynamic, so profound, and so cognizant of the needs of others, who was caught up, with so many unfortunate others, in the effects of incredible madness and evil, and the result an overwhelming hatred of all mankind. I really could not believe it had actually happened. But I remember him with honor and respect, and with a deep sense of loss.

I hope this helps in illustrating the truly excellent person that he was.

Michael Cutrera

Dwight went to work September 11th, 2001, like he had on many other mornings, I would imagine, not dreaming of the horror and chaos that would await him. He worked on the 66th floor of the North tower. According to a co-worker, he'd had surgery on his foot several weeks before and was still in a cast. It would have made it difficult for him to take the stairs to flee the building.

He died at the hands of terrorists who did not care that Dwight was president of the Catholic Big Brothers of NY, where he helped disadvantaged youths. They did not care about the grieving widow and sons he would leave behind. The brother and sister, aunt and uncle left with a sense of terrible loss. The friends and acquaintances who would miss his kind words and encouragement. His death was not meaningless, because there is still meaning even when evil men commit evil deeds. His death was tragic in that it cut him off from whatever productive years he had left , the communion he spent with family and friends and the good deeds he would have done had he lived.

And though I never met Mr. Darcy, I mourn for him and grieve with his family. The craven cowardice of those who would commit war by attacking defenseless civilians has not gone unavenged. Many of those who sowed the wind on 9/11 have reaped the whirlwind.

But, vengeance can never restore loss. What was taken from Dwight Darcy's family can never be replaced. Nor that of the 2,995 other families who lost loved ones on that day.

But, we can remember them. We can hold them in our hearts. And we can vow that so much as is in our power, it will never happen again.

Our hearts go out to the family of Dwight Darcy today. I hope that in some small way I have captured a bit of his essence to share. Our hearts are with you this day.
Rest in peace, Mr. Darcy.


"Profiles in Grief" of The New York Times
Paid notice NYT
A Step in the Right Direction

Ron Paul- Pandering to Kooks? Or Merely Careless in His Speech?

Right Klik had this, which is possibly the most sickening statement ever to come from a serious presidential candidate's lips:



Glee, Mr. Paul? I have seen video where you would not set 9/11 Truthers straight on their sick conspiratorial fantasies about our country staging the 9/11 attack, but on what basis can you claim that there was "glee" in the Bush administration over something this horrific?

Mr. Paul, many conservatives who strongly disagree with your naive, neo-isolationist foreign policy, at least respected you for your views on and adherence to the Constitution.

Statements like this, sir, will lose you much of that respect.

More at CBS, Memeorandum

Cross posted at LCR.

9-11-2001 Remembrance

Alan Jackson: Where Were you When the World Stopped Turning

September 11th - The Reason

by guest blogger Andrew Roman

-------------------------------

Two years ago, during the presidential campaign season, as the seventh anniversary of the 9/11 attacks approached, MSNBC's Keith Olbermann demonstrated yet again why he is not only one of America’s most colossal jackasses, but an undisciplined dullard. (The extraordinarily obvious is sometimes more beneficial than the simply obvious). Olbermann's repulsive on-air reaction to a video played at the Republican National Convention paying tribute to the victims of the September 11, 2001 terrorist attacks was beyond the pale, even for him. When the video was finished, Olbermann hoisted his holier-than-thou head and had the unadulterated nerve to apologize to the viewers for the network's decision to broadcast the segment. To Keith, and others of his leftist strain, this was a tasteless exploitation by Republicans. To others, it was counterfeit indignation wrapped in political expediency. As one blogger to the Olbermannwatch.com website commented, “His outrage is always so phony, it's hard to believe anyone could buy into it.”

Phony or not, Olbermann's outrage at the mere mention of anything related to the September 11th attacks by anyone other than conspiracists, Bush-haters and film documentarians is not exactly uncommon. I used to believe it was confined only to the fringe left, but I was mistaken. Almost all Democrats instinctively believe that Republicans only mention the attacks as a means of procuring a political advantage. The fact that the main-stream media is, at worst, sympathetic to the American left helps explain why September 11, 2001 is the enormous elephant in this country’s living room.

It's another example of how the American left truly believes that it simply isn't possible for any of us on the right to simply disagree with liberals without having sinister motives. It isn't possible for conservatives to simply think differently from liberals without being some form of bigot or xenophobe. It isn't possible for us to oppose someone like Barack Obama without being a hater of some sort. It isn't possible to pay tribute and honor the heroes and victims of the worst terrorist attack on this country without trying to score political points.

We are not only wrong, we're bad.

You'll also recall last year the date of September 11th was being hailed as America's "first day of service" - a day to volunteer and "encourage and facilitate community service across the country." As "Greater DC Cares" said on its website, it was to be a day for cleaning parks, serving meals to the hungry, restoring our national monuments, and much more.

As I wrote four years ago, there is a peculiarly conspicuous gap in our cultural landscape when it comes to horrific events of September 11, 2001. It is almost as if the images of that fateful day have all but been purged from our societal canvas. The sights and sounds of September 11th - save for the occasional scene of the burning towers in a random news story - are almost entirely tucked away from the American public’s senses by purveyors of news and information, in a way that’s almost conspiratorial. The result is that Americans in large numbers have almost forgotten how it felt on that morning to witness the murder and destruction that unfolded before our eyes, on live television. It’s almost as if it never really happened, or that it occurred so long ago as not to be relevant anymore. In a culture where barely-watched, insipid sitcoms of the 1970s and 1980’s merit their own DVD boxed sets, the images of that morning remain practically hidden.

Consider, for example, how the American people for several years were peppered daily with images of bombed-out vehicles in Iraq, the remnants of body parts and ambushed convoys from road-side bombs, the wreckage of mangled helicopters and images of burning buildings in busy Baghdad neighborhoods. It was a veritable brochure of How-to-do-it terrorism furnished by the mainstream media to illustrate the horrors of what happens while American forces continue to “occupy” a foreign land. But go ahead and try to find anything that depicts the savage murder of civilians in this country by fanatics, and you might as well be looking for Republicans on the New York City Council.

Today, it has been nine years since the horrific attacks that claimed nearly three thousand innocents. Regrettably, the very event that forever changed the course of the world has dissolved into our daily lexicon as two innocuous numbers spoken in succession: nine, eleven. How detached we’ve become to the sheer brutality; it has become a hyphenated four-syllable point of reference without visual reinforcement. In this fantastic age of image stimuli, where everything is instantaneous and accessible, it is criminal that the defining event of this generation – and arguably in our nation’s history – has slipped from our ever-shrinking attention spans.

True, often times we cannot go a single day - sometimes hours - without hearing those two words in some context: nine, eleven. But its impact has diminished. And while it is perfectly natural for the raw emotions of that day to wane, we’re still at war. Unbelievably, only nine years after the fact, the images of 9/11 are less vivid than the faces of rejected American Idol contestants. It is an injustice of the highest order to the victims and a profound disservice to those who serve in harm’s way.

I fully appreciate that there are many who don’t wish to see the horrific footage of that Tuesday morning ever again – especially those directly affected by the attacks and aftermath. Indeed, I have a friend who spent many days at Ground Zero in the days following the attacks, digging through the rubble and remains of the pulverized World Trade Center. He’s told me that he personally could go the rest of his life without ever seeing those pictures again. However, he was quick to add that America should revisit that day, even if only once in a while, to remember why this war continues to be fought.

The people of this nation must be reminded over and over again exactly why we are fighting, with whom we are fighting and what these brutal unconscionable killers have done to us – and what they will do to us if given the opportunity. The harrowing images of the evil that is terrorism – such as those desperate souls leaping from the burning towers - should never leave us. We owe it to the victims of the September 11th attacks, to all those who have sacrificed to defeat this enemy, and to future generations to not only defeat terrorism wherever it is but to understand precisely why we’re doing it.

For many like me, the memories of that day have not dissipated, nor should they for any American.

Unfortunately, for many it has, and with it, that sense of urgency to pursue and eliminate those who did this to us before they can do it again.

Would there even be a debate about opening an Islamic cultural center and mosque at Ground Zero if it hadn't?

America today, more so than at any time in her history, is a visual society. We crave stimuli at an incessant pace. We’ve evolved into a seeing-is-believing culture where almost anything on God’s green earth is a mere click away. Images serve as our prime validators. Additionally, we are a people easily distracted and quickly-bored. Out-of-sight, out of mind. We are a culture of channel surfers pulling our dinners from microwave ovens. We keep in touch with friends and loved ones via instant-messaging and broadband internet connections. We can take pictures, download files, zap e-mails and balance our check books on a cell phone.

But we are not a heartless society. We are, without a doubt, a most forgiving people. And it is specifically that otherwise admirable quality I fear has begun to take hold across the map before its time. Now is not the moment to forgive the enemy. They still exist. Inasmuch as we have to be reminded exactly what they did to us, with troops in harm's way, and terrorists continually plotting to hit us, it is perfectly reasonable to those of us who fully appreciate the scope of the war to be utterly disgusted with images of road-side bomb craters and other negative stories about our forces while an almost purposeful effort is made to shield us from the 9/11 attacks - like we might actually rally around the war effort.

Am I talking about the need for establishing a 24-hour 9/11 satellite channel?
Of course not.

But how about an actual clip of one of the twin towers collapsing into the streets of Manhattan the next time a news story about the 9/11 attacks hits the air? Or how about that second plane slamming into the south tower when a story about the War on Terror and terrorism in the United States plays? After all, it did happen, despite the attempts of the American Leftocracy to pretend it didn't.

In anecdotal terms, the video images of the September 11th attacks are powerful weapons. I have watched the faces of those who hadn't seen the "as-it-happened" accounts of that day for years, and it is a profound experience. (You'll recall that a video documentary I produced chronicling the events of that day was roundly criticized by a New York Times columnist recently as "rhetoric"). Those of us who were paying attention eight years ago obviously haven’t forgotten the event. Indeed, we all have our own memories of that terrible morning, just as we have memories of anything that occurred in our past. But actually affording one’s self the chance to relive that particular Tuesday morning by seeing the events unfold once again conjures up a different type of "memory" – one seeded in an indescribable kind of outrage and violation, of inexplicable horror and seething anger – the kind of “memory” this nation needs to hold on to while American men and women serve in harm’s way. Indeed, after viewing the tapes of that morning with a selected gathering of people, my closest friend turned to me and said, "I forgot how horrible it was."

That's what I mean. He obviously remembers the day as we all do … but images speak volumes.

To the great credit of MSNBC, that network has rebroadcast its original coverage of the 9/11 attacks, as it happened nine years ago today.

For those of us who do not need to be alloted a specific day by the government as a time for service - those of us who view everyday as a day to do onto our neighbors as we would have them do onto us - I choose to remember September 11th as the day evil revealed itself with stunning clarity on our home turf, wiping nearly three thousand innocent lives from the face of the Earth. I choose to remember it as a day wrought with unspeakable horror and unparalled heroism. I choose not to diminish its incalculable impact on all of our lives, nor dishonor the dead and their family members, by attempting to purge it from American consciousness.

September 11th is the day I remind myself of how fortunate I am to live as a free man in the greatest country on the planet - and how quickly everything we take for granted can be taken away.

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