by Stephen Roberts

Created on: September 11, 2008

September 11th means so much to us as a nation. It was the day we suffered the worst tragedy in American history. It was a time we questioned our beliefs and how something so horrible could come to exist.

Time erodes memories and although for some it'll never get better, those who were not directly effected may now look at it as just another day. Seven years may not be your typical milestone, yet those families and friends who lost loved ones need to relive it- year after year.

I'm fortunate not to have known anyone murdered that day. I was in New York, and I saw the horror from a distance, felt the heartache second hand, and did what was instinctive to most people- go home. Living in New Jersey, a stone throw across the Hudson, proved to be a difficult obstacle when you subtract the tunnels, trains, and bridges. The only method of escape for your every day person was the ferries, which I had never travelled before. I was lucky.

Days after the eleventh, I returned to work from a very active commuter station, which normally during rush hours was full. There were few people. The Trade Center's smoldered for weeks and every day in and out of Manhattan, I searched the landscape for "New York" and found nothing. It was disbelief, a denial of sorts, they were missing.

My daughter used to sit on my knee before I'd go to work. Back then she was four. I used to watch Good Day New York, which was probably the lightest of the news programs. At the top of the hour when it started, the program flashed the skyline of New York. I would tell her, "honey, that's where Daddy works" and she'd nod in the affirmative. When I called my wife that morning, before many of the phones went dead, I told her turn on the news because the Trade Center was hit by a plane. I remember the hesitation in her voice, the sadness as I heard the channel change. Not shortly after the second plane hit, I was able to reach her and tell her about the lock down. I'd try and get home, but there were no guarantees. I had friends there and could spend the night, but I'd do my damnedest to try and get home. I called my parents in Florida, and told them to spread the word I was fine.

One of things which struck me most out of my experience was the fact my four year old came to associate the morning view of the Trade Center's as "New York" and when she was told they were hit by a plane, she thought I was there- in the Trade Center. I used to wonder, what would I have done? What should I have done? I felt guilty for

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