It seems like yesterday, not 20 years ago, that I received the call. "Turn on your TV. Something terrible is happening in New York City," my neighbor told me.
I was too late to see the first plane crash into the World Trade Center's North Tower, but I did watch the second plane fly into the South Tower.
At first I wasn't sure what I was seeing. Then, little by little, as the story unfolded that fateful day, it became clear: Terrorists had carried out well orchestrated attacks on American soil.
Plain and simple, it was my generation's Pearl Harbor, and it made me sick.
Watching news reports from 3,000 miles away was one thing, but not knowing where my 21-year-old son was that day was another. He was an undergrad at NYU at the time of the attack, but couldn't get word home if he was okay or not. As it turns out, he was fine, but his entire neighborhood had to be evacuated for several days.
Whatever limited time I spent worrying about him was nothing compared to the anguish so many New Yorkers felt on 9/11.
They say time heals all wounds. I believe rebuilding at Ground Zero and creating the Memorial Pools have been major steps in the right direction.
To those whose loved ones are never coming home, I can only say: This California father of three will never forget what happened 20 years ago. You are a part of me forever.
Denny Freidenrich, Laguna Beach