On that day, I watched from the rooftop with my brother and his roommate as the unthinkable happened. Within the hour, documents fluttered three miles over the Hudson river waters and dropped. Smoke and ash soon followed as the streets below filled with silent people walking home, handkerchiefs, the air punctuated by sirens and nothing else. The subway train above, still in it's tracks. All of us in shock.
Today we are rebuilding, and a generation of middle-schoolers only know a life that always included this tragedy. Years have helped us heal, but we will never forget.