My September 11th.

In 2001, I turned 18 and graduated High School.  That fall, I found a job making pizzas for Salt City Pizza Co. on Gentile Street.  They still sell pizzas there, but at that time they only made pizzas for the schools.

One Tuesday morning in September, I spent my day like I normally do.  I arrived at work and helped flatten the dough balls into circles, then moved over to help put peperoni and cheese on top and then stick them in the oven.  My boss Frank had the radio going the whole time playing his music.  When we got done, we cleaned the equipment and the floors.  Work was quick compared to other jobs I've had since, and we usually were able to go home after about five hours.

When I got home, I lied down on my bed and read a book.  (Well, okay, I lay down in in bed, but I'm not a grammar major.)  My mom was also home and she was using the computer.  A couple hours later, my sisters came home from school yelling for us to turn on the TV.

At the time, I was emotionally distant.  I knew that the destruction of the World Trade Center was the worst thing to happen in my life, but like the previous worst thing (Columbine shooting few years earlier) I was not emotionally attached to the event.  A lot of people died, but I didn't know any of them.  I didn't even know anyone that knew them.  And people die all the time.

It wasn't until 5 years later that I really felt for strangers.  Sad things happen in the news all the time, but in 2006 I read a news story that really hit me.  I don't even think I read much of the story, just that there was a shooting in an Amish school.  For whatever reason, I was able to feel sympathy and my heart hurt for the survivors of that ordeal.  From that time on, I have been able to feel that same pain for others who have lost their family.

Those that died in the World Trade Center, Pentagon, and airplanes are no longer faceless strangers to me.  They had families waiting for them.  They made or tried to make desperate phone calls.  Did they tell their families they loved them before they left home?  Did I?  I love my family, and I love my friends.  If this teaches us anything, it is that life is fragile and you never know when your clock will run out.  Of course we shouldn't leave each day in fear, but we should remember to keep our words kind, because you never know when they will be your last.

*Image Credit: Spencer Platt / Getty Images