Home / News / Some anniversaries aren’t meant to be celebrated. They are simply remembered and never forgotten.
Some anniversaries aren’t meant to be celebrated. They are simply remembered and never forgotten.
<p>Today is an anniversary.</p><p>Anniversaries are often days of celebration. They are also days of remembrance. Today is not a day to celebrate. It is a day to pause and remember—to remember all those who “slipped the surly bonds of Earth” and touched the face of God.</p><p>I personally knew three people who died that day. Ironically, each was named John, and each was working on the upper floors of the World Trade Center.</p><p>It is difficult to imagine what they went through. In a strange way, I hope the plane struck where they were working and that their lives ended instantly. The alternative—the thought of them trapped by the intense heat, forced to jump or waiting helplessly for the buildings to collapse—is something I would rather not contemplate.</p><p>And yet, even after unimaginable tragedy, something can rise from the ashes. It does not erase the pain or replace what was lost. But there can be a rebound. There can be goodness. Things can get better.</p><p>I had moved to Arizona in August 2001, just one month before the attacks. When the planes struck, I was on the phone with a colleague at FXDD, whose offices were two blocks north of 7 World Trade Center.</p><p>I returned to New York in November and went to our building, which now overlooked the rubble. The electrical smell was unforgettable. The piles of steel and concrete seemed as if they could never be removed. Trucks lined up one after another, were filled and then drove away to wherever they were taking the
Higher education in Financial Engineering and Money & Capital Markets. SPK (Turkey CMB) licence. 16 years across institutional markets, research, and quant-driven analytics.
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<p>Today is an anniversary.</p><p>Anniversaries are often days of celebration. They are also days of remembrance. Today is not a day to celebrate. It is a day to pause and remember—to remember all those who “slipped the surly bonds of Earth” and touched the face of God.</p><p>I personally knew three people who died that day. Ironically, each was named John, and each was working on the upper floors of the World Trade Center.</p><p>It is difficult to imagine what they went through. In a strange way, I hope the plane struck where they were working and that their lives ended instantly. The alternative—the thought of them trapped by the intense heat, forced to jump or waiting helplessly for the buildings to collapse—is something I would rather not contemplate.</p><p>And yet, even after unimaginable tragedy, something can rise from the ashes. It does not erase the pain or replace what was lost. But there can be a rebound. There can be goodness. Things can get better.</p><p>I had moved to Arizona in August 2001, just one month before the attacks. When the planes struck, I was on the phone with a colleague at FXDD, whose offices were two blocks north of 7 World Trade Center.</p><p>I returned to New York in November and went to our building, which now overlooked the rubble. The electrical smell was unforgettable. The piles of steel and concrete seemed as if they could never be removed. Trucks lined up one after another, were filled and then drove away to wherever they were taking the
