The tragedy that befell our nation ten years ago touched many people, some more deeply than others. In September 2001 I was living in Florida and my friend Whitey was on Long Island - both of us retired. Whitey's son Jimmy worked at the Cotton Exchange on the 8th floor of 4 World Trade Center. On that fateful morning neither of us was watching television. Whitey's phone rang - it was his daughter - she said "Jimmy's O.K." Whitey asked "Why wouldn't he be?" She told him to turn on the TV. Jimmy's salvation was that the Cotton Exchange didn't open until 10:00AM and the planes struck the towers shortly after 9:00AM. His building was damaged and the Cotton Exchange had to relocate to Long Island City for the next several years. He was one of the lucky ones that day. May we never forget. I remember every time I pass thru airport security and have to remove my shoes.
tjs
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