September 10, 2026

THE LAST ORDINARY MORNING IN YESTERDAY’S WORLD:

I envy something about generations too young to remember September 11. They cannot know what it was like to possess the almost absurd confidence in our own security that so many of us had before 9:03 that morning.

For thousands of families, the horror of that day was unimaginably greater. They lost parents, children, spouses, siblings, and friends.

I didn’t lose anyone I loved on September 11.

What I lost was much smaller.

I lost the certainty that another ordinary Tuesday would always come.

At 8:55 that morning, I was an 18-year-old girl in yesterday’s clothes, hungover, laughing at the idea that I might be watching the news. My biggest concern was making it to my first shift at Best Buy.

Eight minutes later, I watched an airplane disappear into the side of a skyscraper full of people.

Twenty-five years have passed. I know much more about that world now. I know the names of the men who attacked us. I know what they believed. I know what it takes to keep people like them from doing it again. And I know that the safety I once took for granted was never guaranteed at all.

But sometimes, when I think about September 11, I don’t think first about terrorists or wars or falling towers.

I think about that girl in the barn loft.

I think about how completely safe she believed she was.

And I wish, just for a moment, I could give her back the world she thought she lived in.

This is what the Manhattan skyline looked like 25 years ago tonight:

Posted at 9:14 pm by Ed Driscoll