Here it is, the twelfth anniversary of the 9/11 attacks, an event which, every year, seems like it happened just yesterday.
As it happens, just the day before yesterday, my sister, nephew and I flew home following a week's vacation in New York City. One of the last images I saw before our flight rose above the clouds was that of "Freedom Tower", otherwise known as "One World Trade Center". It will always be "Freedom Tower" to me.
The last time my sister and I were in NYC was in the summer of 2005. All that existed at Ground Zero was a pit, and a residual piece of metal in the form of a Cross.
Today, though, things are different. Very different. A gleaming, towering edifice now stands where rubble fell before. But, some things never change, one being the sublime sadness that one cannot escape when visiting this site.
When we, my sister and I, were there eight years ago, there was a chain link fence separating us from that pit. Along this fence, for the length of a New York City block, was a storyboard detailing the timeline of the events of that horrific day. There were others listing each and every name of those who died that day in New York, Washington DC and Shanksville, PA.