11 years ago today I was on a plane headed to Atlanta. At 8:45 am, the pilot began circling… and circling. He said it was due to weather though the skies were blue and the sun bright. When we finally landed, I had no idea what had happened – just that I would be late to my meeting. Running through the airport, unfortunately, the TVs in the airport were turned off – in fact, the entire airport seemed quiet. Empty.
Never could I have imagined what was happening on flights across the sky. Suddenly, my phone began ringing, as did the other passengers' phones as well. All of our families and friends calling to find out if we were ok – if it had been OUR plane that hit the World Trade Center. Luckily, my parents didn't have to suffer losing their child that day, but so many others making phone calls did. In memory of those who died, of the unborn children who died too, and in honor of those families whose children boarded planes at the same time I did – love and peace to you all. May we all be well, healthy, safe, secure, loving and happy.