It feels weird to be bringing in Rosh Hashanah on the 25th anniversary of 9/11. I still remember sitting in second period when they announced that there was a terrorist attack. Me being me, I immediately feared something had happened in Israel. It wasn’t until we turned on the TV and saw the first tower on fire. Shortly thereafter, a plane flew into the second building.

For my generation, this was our December 7, November 22, etc. You won’t ever forget where you were and what you were doing. The date is forever etched in memory.

It’s hard watching any of the footage. It never gets any easier whenever I do. We remember and we won’t forget. That’s why I try and get down to the 9/11 memorial whenever I’m in New York. I still haven’t found the courage to go into the museum yet. Just thinking about Jack Buck’s poem is enough to give me chills.

I’ll get back to book reviews and political commentary after the holiday weekend—today is reserved for the solemn anniversary.

To my Jewish readers:

Shanah tovah. May you be inscribed and sealed for a good year.