Mike, Col and I were chatting with the other volunteers at the Church of the Holy Apostle when the bell started striking, not ringing. Sssshh! We stopped and listened and waited.
It seemed an odd thudding. And then we understood: a remembrance for the first tower strike. Later working fast in assembly line style to make the quota of lunch bags in time for delivery another pause and silence for the second strike
My remembrances is for all those who have died as result of violent acts, and for those who have had their world irrevocably altered.