A Lady's Tears


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My Story is like so many people's. I was asleep when my wife came in and told me a plane had hit the World Trade Tower. I came out to watch the news, thinking like so many did, that it was a terrible accident.

As I watched the live coverage a second plane crashed into the second tower, and my heart was crushed. I felt sick to my stomach. No one knew what was exactly what was happening and it was so frightening to realize just how helpless we are when radical terrorist decide to spread their evil.

As the the day went on and it was around 2 am the next morning I was still glued to the television switching channels to glean any additional information I could. By then we knew that there were four planes, and bits and pieces of the heroics of the passengers on the plane that was headed for the White House started to leak out, and names like Todd Beamer, and words like "Let's Roll" were forever etched in our collective historic memories.

As the initial shock seemed to settle over me, the reality of it all sunk in. I went to the garage and I got our AMERICAN FLAG, and took it out and put it in the holder on the front of our home, and turned on the light so it would be illuminated. I realized that we, as a nation, would never be the same.

May God Bless all of those who passed, all the brave men and women who made sure flight 93 never made it to the White House, the Police, the Firefighters, the innocents on the planes and in the towers and the Pentagon, and the loved ones they left behind. Osama Bin Laden, BURN IN HELL!


I came back into the house and with tears flowing uncontrollably down my face, I did what I do so often when my heart and soul are filled with sorrow to the point of exploding, I sat down at the kitchen table and I wrote; and this is what I wrote that night; A Lady's Tears.

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My Story is like so many people's. I was asleep when my wife came in and told me a plane had hit the World Trade Tower. I came out to watch the news, thinking like so many did, that it was a terrible accident.

As I watched the live coverage a second plane crashed into the second tower, and my heart was crushed. I felt sick to my stomach. No one knew what was exactly what was happening and it was so frightening to realize just how helpless we are when radical terrorist decide to spread their evil.

As the the day went on and it was around 2 am the next morning I was still glued to the television switching channels to glean any additional information I could. By then we knew that there were four planes, and bits and pieces of the heroics of the passengers on the plane that was headed for the White House started to leak out, and names like Todd Beamer, and words like "Let's Roll" were forever etched in our collective historic memories.

As the initial shock seemed to settle over me, the reality of it all sunk in. I went to the garage and I got our AMERICAN FLAG, and took it out and put it in the holder on the front of our home, and turned on the light so it would be illuminated. I realized that we, as a nation, would never be the same.

May God Bless all of those who passed, all the brave men and women who made sure flight 93 never made it to the White House, the Police, the Firefighters, the innocents on the planes and in the towers and the Pentagon, and the loved ones they left behind. Osama Bin Laden, BURN IN HELL!

I came back into the house and with tears flowing uncontrollably down my face, I did what I do so often when my heart and soul are filled with sorrow to the point of exploding, I sat down at the kitchen table and I wrote; and this is what I wrote that night; A Lady's Tears.

God bless you Doc, God bless America!

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