What I remember the most about 9/11 is that it started out as a beautiful day: amazing sunshine, about 70 degrees and crystal-clear skies. It did not end that way, of course.
In a few short hours, a cloud of smoke and dust enveloped much of Manhattan. Terrorists had just crashed jets into the city’s two tallest buildings, the North and South towers of the World Trade Center. Nearly 3,000 people died. The US economy ground to halt. Life would never be the same.
At the time, I was a reporter at The Wall Street Journal, and our offices were across the street in the World Financial Center. Because of a doctor’s appointment, I escaped being at Ground Zero when the planes hit, but I was close enough to downtown Manhattan to see the smoldering buildings and people running for their lives.
I learned what happened by ducking into a gym where I watched on TV the Twin Towers…