This is the result of a 9/11 moment I had last year, before I ended up in the hospital again, as a matter of fact, before I totaled my truck:

A sparkle, a flicker in the early morning sunlight catches her attention, then SLAM!! FIRE, DEBRIS, high above the streets of the city. " Dear God," she thinks, "not here! NOT HERE!"

Smoke rises, billowing from an inferno carved out of the topmost layers of the building struck. The city rouses; distant wail of emergency vehicles, fire, police, hospital and others. Frantic activity at the fireboat station in the nearby park, lines cast off while engines begin their rumble and turnout coats are fumbled closed.

A second shape, moving fast, crossing in front, then straightening its course and rolling slightly so there is no question of the second tower swallowing it whole.

More flame, more debris crashing down on the lesser towers surrounding them. The smoke clouds join in a massive welling that is swung by the prevailing winds. It engulfs and hides her.

Her massive head bows, and a tear trickles down her face. Just one.

As the curtain parts once more, she raises her head and faces toward her city, firm, resolute again. In her mind runs the prayer written so long ago: " Give me your tired, your poor, your huddled masses yearning to breathe free..."