It's hard to believe it's been 18 years since that tragic day that will ever be in history as one of the worst days in life.  The day when we, as Americans, where attacked.

I can barely remember to take the garbage out but I can without skipping a beat tell you where I was, what I was doing and even what I was wearing on that awful morning.

I was living in Missouri and working on a small radio station in a town called Sedalia.  I had gotten to the station, was doing a morning show and walking to get my second cup of coffee when my girlfriend at the time called me freaking out.  "A plane hit the Trade Towers in New York City!"   I froze.

The rest of that day was very cold.  I had to report the incidents and watching the TV and emailing everyone I couldn't get in touch with via phone and just wondering, 'What just happened"

I was wearing my favorite pair of jeans and a Yankees t-shirt.  I eventually thew the jeans out but the t-shirt remains in storage.  I refuse to dispose of it and also won't wear it.

May we never forget but never fear and NEVER back down.

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