The 9/11 Post

So in thinking about this post, I looked back at previous posts.  It turns out that 5 years ago, I wrote a post bemoaning the fact that people didn't think of this day like they should have.  And then after that I just posted photos of people and remembered. 

So this year, the 10th anniversary, I put on the NYPD bike shirt, a stylish shirt with patches on both sleeves and reflective letters reading out "NYPD" on the back.  And I went to the National Law Enforcement Officers Memorial at Judiciary Square and just sat.  I sat down and remembered.  Not only those officers who we lost on 9/11, but also those we lost after.  I feel a special connection to Moira Smith, as I heard her put over the 10-13 in the rubble, and that has always made me feel closer to her, even though we never met and I only saw her daughter on the day that she was awarded the Medal of Honor. 

I cried.  For awhile.  For a bunch of reasons . Survivor guilt, sadness, and also the memories of that day.  And I thought about all of them, including James Godbee and Bobby Grossman who we lost later, after breathing in the air at Ground Zero.  God I miss those guys.  I then met up with friends and my girlfriend for beers at a local bar.  My NYPD shirt didn't get a second look, and I think that would have bothered me a few years ago.  And I've realized something important over these past years. 

It's not about me. 

I miss my friends and I will never forget them.  Even though remembering parts of that day are harder and harder for me, it doesn't mean I wasn't there.  I am so proud to have worn the same uniform as my fallen brothers and sisters.  When asked later in life, what job I most identify myself with, there's no doubt that the NYPD is it.  Best people I've ever worked with. 

I hope that wherever you are, you're surrounded by love.  And that you realize that you are special.  If not, email me and I'll tell you how special you are.  We honor their memory by toasting them and being phenomenal people.