My three children were not born on September 11, 2001. They were not even conceived or though of. In fact, I had not even met their father. That would be a year or so away.
I was a stockbroker in a large firm on my phone with the trading desk, placing an order, calculating my commission, wondering if it was enough to buy that new Kate Spade purse I wanted. The trader on Wall Street took my order and then called back a few minutes later. “There is some craziness here. Something has hit the World Trade Center building.”