09/11/2026
Twenty-five years ago today, Salvador called me while I was out running with a friend. He had heard that a plane had hit one of the towers.
I went home, turned on the television, and like millions of people around the world, watched live as the second plane hit.
We couldn’t pull ourselves away from the TV. We didn’t really understand what we were watching or what it meant. And as parents, we immediately started thinking about our children.
Should we go get them? Should we leave them at school and try to keep their day normal?
We eventually went to pick them up, later than many of the other parents. I still remember them asking me, “Mommy, why did you take so long to come get us?”
I will never forget that.
We were among the lucky ones. We went home together.
But something changed that day for all of us. Even here in Florida, in a place like Weston where we felt safe, suddenly the world felt vulnerable.
And at the same time, we saw extraordinary courage, kindness and unity.
Twenty-five years later, we remember those who lost their lives, the families who never saw their loved ones come home, and all those who ran toward danger to help others.
We remember. Always.
Where were you on September 11, 2001?
#9/11
