On that awful morning, I had just settled down at my desk when a coworker rushed into my office and said "A plane just hit the World Trade Center!". Our first thoughts were that it was some air traffic control error but minutes later we found out that it was much worse than that. The next few minutes I, along with the rest of the world, were frantically trying to get more information any way possible. I was able to get through to a few news web sites even though they were swamped. Others in the office were scrambling to get the television from the conference room close enough to the window so the antenna would work. Once the TV was on, a fairly large crowd gathered to watch in horror the havoc and tragedy the terrorists had wreaked upon us. I was filled with sadness, outrage, and anger. Sadness for all the people who lost their lives, for the children who no longer had someone to kiss them goodnight. Outrage that anyone would attack the land of the free, the home of the brave. Anger, a burning anger, at those responsible. Anger so fierce that I was ready to accept the consequenses of our nation retaliating with one or more nukes.

As more and more news and conjecture poured in, I felt that I should be at home with my family so that we could draw strength and comfort from each other. I listened to WBZ news radio during the hour-long drive home; the reports were confusing and at times contradictory. It still seemed somewhat unreal -- like we were all listening to some twenty-first century version of Orson Welles' "War of the Worlds" radio broadcast. It turned out the horror was all too real for far too many people. I find myself fortunate that the closest I came to knowing someone who was killed on that day was Ace Bailey, a former player for the Boston Bruins.

Even though our country has suffered an incredible loss, the indominitable American Spirit is shining brighter than ever. Witness the proud parade of flags across the nation, the outpouring of aid out of the pockets of the American people, the tireless efforts of the rescue workers, and the unending donations of food, shelter, clothing and other much needed material. These are just a few of many reasons that I am damn proud to be an American.

As my anger faded, I started thinking about what our country's response should be. Total war, swift in the undertaking and breathtaking in its decisiveness? A sweeping, silent infiltration of Special Forces into the heart of darkness with a terrible swift sword? My heart tells me that whatever our leaders choose to do, they must remember that first and foremost their duty is to keep this country, all of its citizens, and all of our children safe from harm. That is, or should be, before retribution, the overriding concern of our government and all of us as well.