The morning on September 11, 2001 was like any other back then. I was on an assignment in downtown Toronto at a major financial services firm doing business continuity (disaster recovery) planning. Little did I know that I would be a witness to one of the most infamous moments in human history that morning.
Before I'd really settled down to address that day's priorities, my wife telephoned to tell me a plane had crashed into a skyscraper in New York City.
Then others around me starting receiving calls and a buzz went round the office. We were on the fifty-first floor, so the conversation included a lot of what-ifs.
The next call sent us all into a nearby conference room that had a TV: it had been reported that it was a large airliner that had crashed—loss of life was expected to be significant.
As we watched the news reports, we were horrified to see a second airliner crash into the World Trade Center. This was no fluke; something very sinister was happening. Rumours started to circulate. There was growing concern that the CN Tower was a target. And what about our own safety up there on the fifty-first floor?
There would be little work done that day. I was on a train heading back home before noon. Back home, yes, where an anxious wife waited.
Denisé and I spent the rest of the day watching TV, worrying, speculating, venting our anger and outrage at what we were witnessing.
Of course, the details of that day are well known. I won't repeat them here. Suffice to say that not only did 2,974 innocent people die, but the entire Western World went into shock and will never be quite the same in this post 9/11 era.
May those who lost their lives rest in peace and may their survivors find peace here on earth.