They say you always remember exactly where you were on certain occasions. The day JFK was shot. The day Neil Armstrong took his "small step for man" on the moon. And the day the Twin Towers were destroyed
and, with them, so many innocent lives.
On September 11th 2001, I remember I was interviewing all day. I can't remember what job it was for, or anything about any of the candidates. I don't
even remember who got the job. But I do remember a colleague interrupting mid-way through and telling me, white-faced, that: "Something dreadful has happened."
Impossible to imagine what it must
have been like for those who died, for their families, for the survivors, and for the firefighters and other emergency services who battled to save others, and in some cases gave their own lives in the attempt.
What moved me, on this anniversary, was to hear how many of the victims, as they faced their uncertain fate, used their mobile phones to call their families and friends - not to rage against the perpetrators, but to say: "I love
you."
Love conquers all.