Tag Archives: September 11 2001

When The Towers Fell – September 11

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I don’t approve of using animals in war or police work. I think it’s cruel to send dogs and horses in harm’s way, especially since these sentient beings don’t have the ability to consent — decision-making capacity –and are merely used as expendable, cheap fodder. In my opinion, that’s clearly abusive.

However, the rescue dogs who searched for victims of the 9/11 attacks saved many lives and then took on the task of providing therapy to survivors.

On September 11, 2001, when the towers fell and the sky turned to ash, more than 300 search and rescue dogs stepped into hell on earth. They didn’t hesitate. They didn’t flinch. They climbed through fire and steel, through suffocating debris and deafening silence, searching for life with every breath, every pawstep, every heartbeat.

They entered with pure hearts and fearless resolve—no armor, no agenda, just the unshakable instinct to help. They worked until their pads split, until the air burned their lungs, until their handlers broke down and hope ran dry. And still, they kept going. Because that’s what heroes do.

When the searching stopped, the therapy dogs arrived. Quiet. Steady. Healing. They didn’t need words. They curled beside the broken, leaned into the grief, and reminded shattered humans that love hadn’t died in the dust.

These beautiful dogs didn’t just serve. They bore the weight of our sorrow. They carried our hope. They were the silent saints of Ground Zero—unspoken, unshaken, unforgettable.

We don’t just remember them. We thank them. For their courage. For their comfort. For showing us, in our darkest hours, what selfless devotion truly looks like.

To the hero dogs of 9/11: your legacy lives on in every rescue, every comfort, every life saved because you showed up when it mattered most. Curated from houndsinpounds.org

Remembering September 11, 2001 | Twenty-Two Years Later

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I woke up this morning to a glorious blood-red sky.

It was about 6:30 or so, and I realized what day it was.

This was about the same time, twenty-two years ago, that I had taken my first sip of coffee and turned on the news to learn that the Twin Towers of the World Trade Center had been crashed into by hijacked jets.

I woke up my son and while we huddled together watching TV, there were other reported terrorist attacks on the Pentagon and a crash in Pennsylvania.

The September 11 attacks of 2001 caused the deaths of nearly 3000 victims and nineteen hijackers. Thousands more were injured and long-term health effects have arisen as a consequence of the attacks.

This sky is a poignant reminder of that tragic day.

William James Collins is an American poet who served as the Poet Laureate of the United States from 2001 to 2003.

The Names is his poem about 9/11.


Yesterday, I lay awake in the palm of the night.
A soft rain stole in, unhelped by any breeze,
And when I saw the silver glaze on the windows,
I started with A, with Ackerman, as it happened,
Then Baxter and Calabro,
Davis and Eberling, names falling into place
As droplets fell through the dark.
Names printed on the ceiling of the night.
Names slipping around a watery bend.
Twenty-six willows on the banks of a stream.
In the morning, I walked out barefoot
Among thousands of flowers
Heavy with dew like the eyes of tears,
And each had a name --
Fiori inscribed on a yellow petal
Then Gonzalez and Han, Ishikawa and Jenkins.
Names written in the air
And stitched into the cloth of the day.
A name under a photograph taped to a mailbox.
Monogram on a torn shirt,
I see you spelled out on storefront windows
And on the bright unfurled awnings of this city.
I say the syllables as I turn a corner --
Kelly and Lee,
Medina, Nardella, and O'Connor.
When I peer into the woods,
I see a thick tangle where letters are hidden
As in a puzzle concocted for children.
Parker and Quigley in the twigs of an ash,
Rizzo, Schubert, Torres, and Upton,
Secrets in the boughs of an ancient maple.
Names written in the pale sky.
Names rising in the updraft amid buildings.
Names silent in stone
Or cried out behind a door.
Names blown over the earth and out to sea.
In the evening -- weakening light, the last swallows.
A boy on a lake lifts his oars.
A woman by a window puts a match to a candle,
And the names are outlined on the rose clouds --
Vanacore and Wallace,
(let X stand, if it can, for the ones unfound)
Then Young and Ziminsky, the final jolt of Z.
Names etched on the head of a pin.
One name spanning a bridge, another undergoing a tunnel.
A blue name needled into the skin.
Names of citizens, workers, mothers and fathers,
The bright-eyed daughter, the quick son.
Alphabet of names in a green field.
Names in the small tracks of birds.
Names lifted from a hat
Or balanced on the tip of the tongue.
Names wheeled into the dim warehouse of memory.
So many names, there is barely room on the walls of the heart. -- Billy Collins

Somber Anniversary: September 11, 2001

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9/11

I won’t show photos of burning buildings, no video of towers collapsing; simply think about where you were on September 11, 2001.

Those lost are remembered on this anniversary of the September 11 attacks.

Who could forget that day?

It was just after 6am on the west coast. I had turned on the morning news and taken a sip of my first cup of cup of coffee when all hell broke loose.

In real time, I watched the World Trade Center’s South Tower burn at 9:03 a.m., moments after being struck by United Airlines Flight 175.

I put down my coffee and ran upstairs to wake up my then twenty-year-old son.

We didn’t know what was happening–if similar attacks were planned for anywhere else – but we watched the unfolding of tragedy after tragedy.

Never forget the loss of life at the Twin Towers or the Pentagon or Flight 93, which crashed into a field in Pennsylvania during an attempt by the passengers and crew to regain control.

We will never forget.