09/11/2026
The anniversary of the September 11, 2001 terrorist attacks is deeply personal for me. Therefore, I cannot in good conscience, make a political statement; only a personal one.
I thought I lost my best friend that day. That was the only day in my life I literally fell to my knees to pray. She was missing for hours, managed to catch a city bus, covered in soot from the falling towers, and got uptown to Grand Central, where she caught a train bound for New Haven.
I gave blood that day, in Brooklyn, after waiting on line, in silence, for hours with others who were doing the same. I sang songs of Americana with strangers in Union Square Park, trying to stay connected to who we are and what we believed in.
For weeks after the attacks, I would walk to work past the Canal St post office, where photos of the missing were hung by their desperate loved ones. I memorized their faces, in case I saw them one day, to know they had made it.
I worked benefit concerts for the first responders, and helped collect tube socks and water for the rescue workers. I'll never forget how they hung their heads, as a slow respectful applause came from New Yorkers on the street, as they walked past us to catch a bus to Ground Zero.
25 years later, I honor the memory by thanking first responders and our men and women in uniform when I see them. I shake their hand. I buy their coffee. I offer a hug.
And every September 11th, although I am no longer close with my best friend from all those years ago, I text her.
Again today, I sent her a message about finding peace and solace on this day. Remember that PTSD can happen with any traumatic event, and many of us who were personally affected that day feel overwhelmed with all the coverage.
May we all be kind, patient, and understanding to our fellow Americans.
❤️🇺🇸✌🏻️❤️
