Where were you? My story...

The memories always come rushing back to me every year on September 11.

I remember being at the office getting prepared to play catch-up in the real estate world after being away for a few days. It was a Tuesday, and my wife and I actually had just returned home from New York City the day before.

We were on a high after spending an exciting long weekend in the Big Apple. On our flight to NYC, we got to meet HGTV's Vern Yip who was sitting in first class. We attended what would ultimately be Michael Jackson's last full concert on September 8 - a special show at Madison Square Garden that was taped for CBS television where he reunited with his brothers for a few songs, did some solo hits, and other superstars like Whitney Houston, Usher, Beyonce, Ray Charles, Justin Timberlake, and Britney Spears performed tribute numbers to him. We stopped by Rockefeller Plaza for a taping of the "Today Show." We saw Hillary Clinton marching in a parade in front of St. Patrick's Cathedral. We had an awesome time. We were having so much fun we almost decided to stay an extra day...

But we came home on September 10.

I must confess that I am a nervous air traveler...every bump and jolt of turbulence feels like the prelude to a plane crash. However, I felt a little more comfortable when I saw a certain gentleman enter the door after everyone was seated. It was none other than President Jimmy Carter. He slowly walked the aisle, and greeted and shook the hand of every person on the plane. He walked to the back and was seated among several Secret Service Agents in coach class. I felt safe knowing he was on the plane...like his presence and security would prevent any mishaps during flight.

Whatever excitement we had upon returning was quickly scuttled around 8:45am on September 11. I got a phone call from my wife telling me to turn on the radio. Then a phone call from my step-mom. Then a call from my mom. Then a call from my grandparents. Something horrible was happening.

My dad immediately dusted off the old antennae television from the back room of the office and carefully tuned it to the "Today Show." I will never forget the look of horror on the faces of Matt Lauer and Katie Couric. Two planes hit the World Trade Center. Next thing we knew another plane had crashed and the Pentagon was on fire. Was Atlanta next? What was going on?

As the events unfolded, of course, it became clear that our country was under attack. As I watched the firefighters, police officers, medical professionals, and volunteers rally the defense, I thought how quickly life can change. I wondered if we had passed any of the victims of this tragedy on the street? Were they in the audience at MJ's show just a few days before? Were any of them in that parade?

I was angry. I was sad. I was confused. I was helpless. There was nothing I could do about any of this. I must have watched the television non-stop for a week straight. I didn't want to work. I didn't want to even go out and get a bite to eat. Doing anything like that seemed disrespectful to all of those men, women, and children that had lost their lives...and to those left to clean up the mess on the ground.

At the time, I was helping my father with lawn maintenance at a couple of his commercial rental properties on the weekend. I got a phone call from one of his tenants a couple days later complaining that the grass needed to be cut. It was at that time that I realized this had really affected me more than I thought. I yelled at the lady on the other end of the phone. It was like a primal call bursting from my throat. I said, "How can you be worried about YOUR GRASS when OUR COUNTRY is under attack?!? PEOPLE ARE DYING FOR GOD'S SAKE!" I was immediately embarrassed, but the lady got the point. She apologized, and said for me to just get to it sometime next week.

Needless to say, the grass was cut, and things eventually returned to normal in the world. But we should never, ever forget what happened on September 11, 2001. Never. Ever.