I’ve been catching some of the Sept. 11 documentaries this week. The goosebumps just keep rising. Thoughts of that day, coming out of the subway about 25 blocks away just around 9 o’clock. One tower had already been hit and the other was about to be.

I watch that footage again and again and again and I still can’t believe it. Honestly, I still cannot fathom airplanes being driven into those buildings. I cannot fathom those buildings collapsing. This, despite the fact that every day I look at the Manhattan skyline and know they aren’t there. This, despite the fact that almost every week I take the PATH train to the World Trade Center and what it really brings me into is the middle of a big, fat hole in the ground.

I sat on a ferry on what was a gorgeous day from a weather perspective. They filled that three-decker boat for several hours before taking us across the Hudson River to Weehawken. I walked home the mile or so, talking to my mother on my cell phone much of the way.

I was just far enough away from the bedlam to not be in fear for my life. I’m grateful for that. It has also prompted me to make some sweeping changes in my life. I’m grateful for that.

But all those people who thought they were just going to work … well, it’s just so sad.