Today is my birthday. I'm 60, and more grateful for each passing day. By the accident of when I was born, I share this day with a far more somber anniversary.
As I browsed the various news accounts of ceremonies and remembrances, I was suddenly moved to tears by an account about Flight 93, known as the plane that fought back.
Think of the courage. I'm sure they knew they would probably die, yet they decided not to be bystanders, pawns, but to take action.
Is that kind of resolve in me? I hope I never have to find out. But, if it ever comes to that point, knowing they found it may help.