09/11/2026
September 11th will always be deeply personal for me.
On September 10, 2001, we moved out of New York City and spent our first night in our new home in Montclair, New Jersey.
The next morning, I called the town to find out our garbage pickup days. We were surrounded by moving boxes, and I was ready to start getting them out of the house. While I was on the phone, the woman I was speaking with suddenly started screaming and dropped the phone. I stayed on the line, hearing confusion and chaos in the background. When she finally picked the phone back up, she told me that a plane had hit the Twin Towers.
I immediately hung up and began trying to reach my brother, who lived downtown, only a few blocks from the World Trade Center. For hours, we couldn’t get through to him.
Eventually, we learned that he, his family, their baby, and their dog had made their way out of Manhattan by boat. We picked them up at Newark Penn Station, and they came to stay with us in our brand-new home for many weeks afterward.
I have often thought about the timing, that we had moved into that house literally the day before. In the middle of such unimaginable tragedy, we were incredibly grateful to have a safe place where our family could be together.
Twenty-five years later, I still remember that morning so vividly. The fear. The uncertainty. The heartbreak. The thousands of innocent lives lost, the families forever changed, and the bravery of so many first responders and ordinary people.
May we never forget September 11th, the lives that were taken, or the very real devastation that terrorism can cause. 🇺🇸
