On Sept. 11, 2001 I had just sat down at my desk, a soothing beverage at my elbow and a copy of the Wall Street Journal and Investor's Business Daily in front of me, ready to confront the day's labor.
That's when I heard the news.
As I mentioned last year, I had a friend die that day. Interestingly enough, in looking up stuff to help me compose a post, I ran across the blog of a priest in New Jersey who was, at the time, assigned to the parish where my friend and his family attended Mass. Father Toborowsky expresses my feelings rather well.