Can't let the day pass

If humanity had evolved with four fingers on each hand rather than five, the world would be marking this day with far more fanfare and introspection. Much as I enjoy my falanges, it's kind of a shame that the eighth anniversary of the 9/11 attacks came and went so quietly.

I work in lower Manhattan, probably nine blocks from where the attacks made their deepest scar. Walking around the neighborhood at lunchtime last Friday, there were almost no reminders of the event that had tens of thousands coursing through these very streets eight years ago. Only one hint — a fireman in dress blues — crossed my path. I stopped him, and asked him had he been on the force in 2001, still a somewhat sensitive topic for the FDNY.

"No, but my cousin was," he said. "He survived, thank God. They had him on a command truck outside the towers." 

So many did not survive, of course, and it is both sad and somehow heartening to see that all that, too, has passed. I was there that day, and I have covered the consequences (as I covered the road that led to it).

But for now, let Charlie Sennott's column suffice. I'll just remember my own acquaintances who passed that day — a friend, Graham Berkeley, on United 193, an uncle, FDNY Lt. Tom O'Hagan, and my landlady, Arlene Babakitis. Whatever anyone makes of the reaction of the United States to the horror, none of those fine people deserved their fate.

http://www.globalpost.com/notebook/worldview/090911/cant-let-the-day-pass