Tag Archives: 9/11

A MOMENT IN TIME

10 Tuesday Sep 2019

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It seems hard to believe that it has been 18 years since that earth-shattering day in 2001. There was a moment when it seemed as if my heart had stopped – it was hard to breathe – my vision wasn’t clear – and everything appeared to move in slow motion. I was in a meeting with the college president when his assistant interrupted us to state that a plane had crashed into one of the twin towers. We took a moment and thought that it must have been a small private plane that went out of control for some reason. We returned to our meeting only to be interrupted again with notice of a second plane crash into tower number two. This was real – this was not an accident – this was a moment in time that had never been experienced on our mainland, not since the War of 1812. Not since Pearl Harbor had our country been attacked, but never on the continental United States.

That day was a blur and I, like millions of Americans, did not know what to do. We did not know the scope of the attack, who was responsible, or what was coming next. It wasn’t long before we heard of the downed plane in Pennsylvania, the crash at the Pentagon, and subsequent grounding of all air traffic. The president was somewhere in the air while the situation was being assessed by our military.

I walked around campus trying to be there for students as we set-up a communication point with televisions for students to stay tuned into what was happening. I called my wife, and children to touch base and make sure they were able to stay calm (one was in college in Albany and another in Montreal, my son was still at home). Some students had family members in New York City so they were in a panic – our job was to keep them as calm as possible until they could get through to their loved ones. Other students were already packed and on their way home. This was a moment that was beyond comprehension, something that could never happen here, something that the average American never thought of, and something that would from that day forward be part of our consciousness.

It was days later when we discovered that one of the passengers on the second plane to plunge into the twin towers was Chris Carstanjen, a former student of mine. Chris was an independent, sometimes sarcastic, usually funny, very bright, and always alive person who on 9/11 was leaving his then Boston home for a vacation trip to California. Little did he know on that fateful day that this would be his last on earth. I still occasionally wake up with thoughts of Chris and what he must have gone through as it became obvious that the plane was targeting a building in New York. As full of fear and confusion as I was on that day, I wonder how terrible it must have been for him. Why him and his fellow passengers? How was it that this attack had included him and for what purpose. I made a promise that I would pay tribute to this unsuspecting American sacrifice every year.

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In the next few hours we were glued to our televisions as both towers came tumbling down leaving a carnage of human life, clouds of toxic dust rolling through the streets of New York, twisted steel that supported these landmark buildings, and a stunned American public wondering if this was the beginning of the end.

As is always the case – so many people rose to the occasion – rushing towards the disaster rather than away from it. Firefighters, police, volunteers, emergency rescue workers, National Guard, and even chefs and restaurateurs who wanted to help feed those who were sifting through the rubble for any sign of life – they were there, ready to help. Our president returned and in what was likely his finest moment, stood on the broken concrete and twisted steel beams with a megaphone and declared that this would not break America and that we would never stop until we found the persons responsible and bring them to justice. What was the worst disaster to hit the United States in memory became a moment of unity and resolve for us all.

“The sky was falling and streaked with blood I heard you calling me, then you disappeared into the dust Up the stairs, into the fire Up the stairs, into the fire I need your kiss, but love and duty called you someplace higher Somewhere up the stairs, Into the fire

May your strength give us strength May your faith give us faith May your hope give us hope May your love give us love”

*Bruce Springsteen

I was in New York just two months after 9/11, two months during which New York worked to bring back a sense of unity and normalcy. I walked with a friend down to ground zero where particulate was still floating in the air, where there was a silence so unusual for New York – a silence reserved for sacred sites – a silence out of respect, fear, anger, and resolve. People were kind in New York – a kindness that seemed to contradict what people normally associate with a city of 10 million. They opened doors, then tried to smile, they said a quiet “excuse me” when brushing up against one another, and they nodded their heads in recognition of what we had all lost, and what we might gain.

I passed memorials of people missing, firefighters lost, buildings reduced to a pile of broken dreams. There were pictures, posters, dried flowers, hats and shoes, and fleeting memories everywhere. It was depressing, shocking, humbling, and somehow invigorating to be there. This was now a symbol of hate while also a symbol of the hope of rebuilding what we had lost. The United States would come back and demonstrate that this would not break us, but rather – bring us strength.

On that date in 2001, the U.S. lost 2,977 souls, 2,977 beautiful people with families, husbands and wives, mothers and fathers, children, brothers and sisters, and friends. There were 2,977 people who would not realize their dreams, who went to work that morning just as they did every day, with only their current challenges in mind. They were innocent people who meant no harm – they just wanted to live their lives. There were 6,000 others who were injured on that morning, and countless others who continue to suffer physically, mentally, and emotionally as a result. There were 265 of that group who were on the four planes that crashed – Chris Carstanjen was one of them. Of the nearly 3,000 killed – 412 were emergency workers who lost their lives trying to save others, who entered those buildings filled with smoke and fire with little regard for their own safety – they were doing their jobs – 343 of those lost were NYC firefighters. Tragedy beyond belief.

We went to war after that and have been engaged in those wars for 18 years. Those wars in Afghanistan, Iraq, and Pakistan have result in nearly 500,000 deaths – 15,000 of which were American military and private contractors. The war continues, the hate continues, the questions are still unanswered, and lives are altered beyond repair. A moment in time.

We should praise all those who fight for the right to be free, who recognize hate and stand up against it, who seek to find the answer that will bring us all to a point of acceptance and caring support of one another. On this humble anniversary of 9/11 we might take a moment to reflect on all that we have lost and remember those moments when we came together as a country to find those answers, to be kind and caring, to stand up for freedom, and to say to those who seem hell bent on promoting evil – “This is not us, not who we choose to be”.

We are faced with another moment in time – a time when we can choose to truly honor those who lost their lives both here in America and across the globe in battle, especially those innocent civilians who only wanted to live their lives. Let’s honor them with efforts to find solutions, find a way to set aside our differences, and live peacefully. This is the only way to truly honor those who took their last breath on 9/11.

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When you see a person in military uniform – say thanks. When you pass a firefighter, EMT, or policeman – say thanks. When you pass a person on the street – say good morning or good afternoon with a smile. When you enter a building – hold the door for the next person. When you see a person standing on the subway – give up your seat. When you pass through security at the airport – say thanks for keeping us safe. When you vote in 2020 – vote for what is right and for those who understand what it will take to truly honor those who gave their lives. Let this moment in time be a moment of caring, support, and pursuit of peaceful solutions.

I tip my hat to the memory of Chris Carstanjen. I hope that you are at peace.

PLAN BETTER – TRAIN HARDER

Never Forget!

Harvest America Ventures, LLC

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WE CAN NEVER FORGET – A CHEF’S PERSONAL REFLECTIONS ON 9/11

07 Thursday Sep 2017

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Monday is the 16th anniversary of one of the darkest days in American history. This was truly the day that changed the world, impacted each of our lives, and bore witness to the worst and the best of mankind.

The attack on the Twin Towers, the Pentagon, and the failed attempt at a direct hit on the White House was more than symbolic – it was personal. This day will forever be viewed as a dark testament to the existence of senseless hate and the fragile nature of life. This was a day that none of us will ever forget – like Pearl Harbor and the Kennedy Assassination we will always remember where we were, what we were doing, and who we were with when the towers were hit. We will remember that feeling of panic and helplessness, the aura of confusion and disbelief that followed as we were glued to our televisions trying to make sense of something so horrific.

Our world changed on that day because we always held the feeling that it couldn’t happen here. These unexplainable acts of hate and disrespect for life have happened countless times in other parts of the world, but it just wasn’t possible in the United States so we were able to push the horrors from around the world aside and think of more positive things. That was possible until 9-11-2001. Those who lived through the terror of WWII, Korea, and Vietnam experienced something of this hateful presence, but there was something different about this – this was even more personal and it pointed to our own vulnerability. Hate has always found a place in American life, but at this level we could actually taste how acrid it was, how close it became, and how random it could be. Hate didn’t need a reason it only needed a target that allowed the actor to find a forum.

I remember my first thoughts of my family and what must I do to protect them. No one knew for sure that there was an end to the attack – what was next, who would be a target, who would do such a thing, what possible explanation could be found? Was my family safe, we’re my friends in danger – is this the beginning of the end? This was how I felt and how most Americans felt as well. We were in shock and America’s world of allies felt it for us.

As we watched the Towers come crashing down it was hard to look away even though we wanted to. There were people in those buildings, people with hopes and dreams, families, children, husbands and wives, brothers and sisters, coworkers and friends – how devastating, how senseless, how cowardly an act this was. I know I had tears in my eyes, but couldn’t cry – not yet. Fear has a way of keeping those emotions in check until a person can put things in some semblance of order. It was hard to process everything before us, it was too much, too intense, too much to handle.

As the days passed and America began to dig out from the shock we watched something else occur. From the darkest depths of despair our friends and neighbors rose to the occasion and helped our country find a way to process everything. Firefighters and Police performed superhuman feats of courage as they dug through the rubble looking for any sign of survivors. There were biting stories beneath the steel and stone, acts of heroism that were a testament to the power of human courage and dignity. More than 3,000 Americans died senselessly on that day – 343 were New York firefighters, 60 were police, and another 8 were paramedics – all of them hero’s who gave their lives to help others. Everyone in America was a New Yorker, a Pentagon Worker, a Flight Attendant, a Cop or Firefighter during those days. There was no separation by any measure – we stood together and the free world shared our pain and our determination to overcome.

I was in New York City seven weeks later. I went with a friend down to Ground Zero. It was a surreal place – somber, almost sacred. There was still debris floating in the air, people were on the streets but rarely spoke. The sight of the rubble and twisted steel, the rows of pictures of fallen firefighters and cops posted on firehouse and police stations had such an eerie feel only surpassed by the pictures and spontaneous memorials to loved ones that were attached to fences and telephone poles. I felt hollow, sad, angry, desperate yet convinced that New York and America would pull through.

New Yorkers are often considered uncaring, sometimes rude, and aloof, but that was not the case after 9/11. People acknowledged each other on the street with those hollow eyes that accompany people who were grieving while knowing that everyone shared the same thoughts. People held doors for those behind them and acknowledged with a nod or even a “thank you”. We were moving from shock to acceptance that things would never be the same, but that good must overcome evil.

The day of the attack became even more personal for me as I learned about those who had a direct or indirect connection to me and to what I do for a living. The first tower was home to Windows on the World – one of the most spectacular restaurants in the country. The restaurant itself was closed that morning, but there was a catered event in one of their facilities on the 106th floor. After the first plane flew into the building at over 400 miles an hour, the attendees at the event were lost along with 72 restaurant employees. Any person who was in the building above the 92nd floor was lost – no survivors. These were people who were just going about their normal existence with only a desire to serve.

A few moments later another plane flew into the second tower. On that plane was one individual, Chris Carstajen, who was en route to California from Boston for a well-deserved vacation from his work. Chris, one would assume, did not have little warning, nor did he have any idea that when he boarded that plane it would be the last time he saw his family, his friends, and his coworkers. Chris and the others on that plane were gone in a flash. Chris was one of my former students enrolled in the Culinary Arts Program at Paul Smith’s College. He was a creative, energetic, light-hearted and funny person – full of life. Every year since 2001 Chris is on my mind.

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CHRIS CARSTANJEN

I have yet to visit the 9/11 Memorial in New York, but will some day. I’m not ready yet. Since 9/11, the death and destruction resulting from those who hate continues to plague the world. At times it seems that this distain for others, the lack of respect for life, and the senseless dismissal of people as pawns in a game of power and misunderstanding continues to grow out of control. I ask – has the world learned anything from this and countless other atrocities?

On this anniversary of 9/11 I ask out of respect for the countless people who have lost their lives as a result of hate – when will it end?

NEVER FORGET.

REFLECTING ON A DAY THAT CHANGED OUR LIVES

10 Saturday Sep 2016

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Paul Sorgule

I was in a routine meeting when I heard the news of the first plane crashing into the Twin Towers. Maybe it was a freak accident. Was it a small private plane – oh well, what an awful accident. When a short time later the second plane found its mark – we all knew that our lives would never be the same.

If you are over the age of 25, you will always remember where you were and what you were doing at the time of the 9/11 attacks. You will likely remember the feelings that rushed through your body – those feelings of disbelief, panic, fear, thoughts for the victims, thoughts of your own family and how precious they were, and maybe even a few tinges of early anger. In all cases, you (we) were all tied up in knots. This couldn’t be happening – not in America!

My first reaction, as was the case with most, was to contact family members to see if they were OK. One of my daughters was in school in Montreal. The border was closed and she could not get home, nor could we go to comfort her. Another was in college in Albany and had already found her place in line to donate blood for any survivors. My 85-year old mother was already reflecting back on the day that she heard of the bombings at Pearl Harbor – another day that will “Live on in infamy”.

It was a few days before I discovered that one of my former students – Chris Carstanjen – was on the second plane that struck the towers. Chris was a great guy, working hard, looking forward to a vacation in California. He innocently boarded a plane in Boston never realizing how his life would end. The entire crew of Windows on the World, one of America’s epic restaurants on the top of the towers was lost in a few seconds time. Prepping for lunch in the kitchen, polishing silverware, setting tables for another typical day of serving guests while looking over the city – who could have thought that their world would end on this fateful day.

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CHRIS CARSTANJEN

It is hard to believe that this was 15 years ago, when just the mention of that date brings back all of the vivid memories. It is disheartening that we are all still fighting that inner battle of emotions from a single event that changed our world – forever. This was a senseless attack on not just innocent people, but on a way of life that we have grown to treasure and expect.

I was in New York City just seven weeks after the attack – attending the New York Hotel Show (we were all trying to push our lives back to some sense of normalcy). I had never seen New York like this. The people were different – solemn, fearful, kinder, gentler, respectful, but most striking – quiet. I went with a friend down to the site of the Twin Towers. There was still particulate drifting in the air, even after 7 weeks. Cars were not honking horns, people were quiet and respectful, occasionally you came across someone with tears in his or her eyes – it was different. I walked past the firehouses with posted pictures of the fallen fireman and police officers – heros – who gave their lives on that day and the weeks afterward. There was a lump in my throat – this must be what it is like to live in a war torn city. We came upon the empty pit that once housed two of the most magnificent structures that were a testament to American progress. Twisted metal, tons of rubble, early construction vehicles fighting to find a bottom to the remains of these two structures. It was still quiet – the sound of a country in mourning.

The Hotel Show put on a face of moving forward, but even at the Javitt’s Center – things were so different. Watching a newscast on TV monitors while moving up an escalator, I noticed the Breaking News that another plane had crashed in Queens and there were likely no survivors. Was this another attack or just a coincidence? We were all on edge and looking for a safe place to be. Fifteen years later we still look over our shoulders, still get that lump in our throats whenever there is a shooting or a suspected act of terrorism. Our lives continue to be scared by a senseless event that took place on that day. Since then, thousands of others have lost their lives trying to bring the world back to normal, yet we seem even further away from that goal.

Where there is comfort is when I reflect back on the kindness of many others. When I think of how firefighters, police, chefs, restaurateurs, and many, many other volunteers jump to the aid of fellow human beings. In the months that followed 9/11, restaurant business in New York was devastated. Who wanted to celebrate with great food when this feeling of angst and fear was still gripping the city? Yet without concern for their crumbling bottom lines, hundreds of cooks, chefs, servers, and restaurateurs could be found at ground zero – preparing and serving food for the volunteers and public servants working through the rubble looking for survivors or remains. This was how America would rebound.

This same picture is evident whenever there is a disaster in our country. Our industry jumps to the aid of others. I take great pride in how we (restaurant folks) give our time, hard work, food, and money to help others. You can see this in New Orleans after floods and hurricanes, unforeseen weather disasters that hit the East Coast with Hurricane Sandy, in the temporary mess halls set up in Afghanistan and other remote areas of the world to nourish our troops, or alongside workers putting out fires and fighting to rebuild communities after earthquakes. My solace is in knowing that I am part of an industry that faces disaster head on and is always there to help rebuild.

On this anniversary of 9/11 we need to always remember those who lost their lives senselessly, those who continue to give their lives to try and bring the world back to normalcy: the firefighters, police, military, chefs, cooks, and average Americans who represent what is best about our country. With all of our flaws, we represent hope for the rest of the world.

NEVER FORGET!

Harvest America Cues

Harvest America Ventures, LLC

Restaurant Consulting and Training

A COOK TRYING TO MAKE SENSE OF 9/11

11 Friday Sep 2015

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Another year has come and gone bringing us back to 9/11, “A day to remember”, as it has been called. The rest of the year we try to forget, because we are good at that. Forgetting is a defense mechanism just like our ability to clot blood. We cut ourselves and through a natural process are allowed to heal and to forget the pain of the puncture or cut and put it behind us. That is unless someone pulls off the scab and we are quickly reminded of what took place. Remembering 9/11 is pulling off the scab on a dreadful day in American history, a day that many claim defined a generation. It seems like those “defining moments” are more often than not, terrible incidents that are based on and filled with hate.

My grandfather’s generation was defined by the sinking of the Lusitania that resulted in America’s involvement in WWI. My father’s generation relates back to the bombing of Pearl Harbor and the Holocaust, and my generation looks back on the assassinations of the Kennedy’s and Martin Luther King as moments that frame a societal picture. The year 2001 was not only remembered as that transition to a new millennium, but was punctuated by those planes that crashed into the Twin Towers, the Pentagon, and a field in Pennsylvania. We all seem to know someone who was touched by these horrific acts of terrorism. One of my students, Chris Carstanjen, harmlessly boarded a plane in Boston en route to a long awaited vacation in California. His life ended when that same plane crashed into the second tower. His friends and family will never forget that day and do not have the luxury of simply pulling off the scab on the anniversary of the event. That beautiful restaurant – Windows on the World, sat atop the Twin Towers and a full team of front and back of the house innocent workers were going about their normal prep for a busy lunch, just like we all do on a daily basis, when hell came knocking. A piece of every person’s soul who works in the restaurant business was lost at that moment. Yes, today we remember that moment.

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Chris Carstanjen – In our thoughts

We all know where we were and what we were doing when the first and then the second plane hit. I was in a meeting when an assistant interrupted our discussion to say that a plane had crashed into the first tower. We wondered briefly if it was a small private plane or maybe one of those commuter jets that lost an engine or had a dramatic pilot event in flight. We went back to our discussion. When she interrupted a few moments later to say that a second plane had crashed into Tower Two, we felt the shock of realization – this was intentional. What occurred in the hours after, at least for me, was a sense of panic, fear for my family and country, disbelief, high anxiety, and a total lack of knowing what to do. This was a moment to remember, a moment to define a generation, and I was at a loss. Of course, I immediately tried to contact all of my family members and close friends, just as everyone else in the country was doing. We would figure this out and get through it and eventually forget – at least for most of the year.

Reflecting back, I wonder now about all of those people throughout the world who don’t have the luxury of a healing wound and the ability to forget. For them, the horror continues each and every day as hate continues to fester and grow among people. It is hate that is the enemy of society, hate that brings people to commit horrific acts time and time again, hate that creates these “defining moments” that we are suppose to forget. How do we fight hate? Can you fight hate or is fight the fuel that feeds the engine of hate?

“Like an unchecked cancer, hate corrodes the personality and eats away its vital unity. Hate destroys a man’s sense of values and his objectivity. It causes him to describe the beautiful as ugly and the ugly as beautiful, and to confuse the true with the false and the false with the true.”

MARTIN LUTHER KING, JR., Christmas sermon delivered at Dexter Avenue Baptist Church in Montgomery, Alabama, 1957

When I work in and with establishments that suffer from team angst and witness the disturbing actions and beliefs that people have about others, I am aware of how these small acts of mistrust and eventually hate, can grow into a virus that learns to grow out of control. Is this where it all begins? I don’t get it, maybe I am naïve, but I find it very easy to like most people until their hateful actions become contagious. When this happens it is like a bad apple in a bushel of fresh picked Macintosh, the rot begins to spread. I enjoy walking down the street, smiling at others and saying hello. This is how a civilized people interact. I don’t care who or what you are, I just think that acknowledging people as individually worthwhile is easy and painless. Why is it that so many people can’t accept that and face each day with a desire to be kind, accepting, and thoughtful?

I saw incredible photos yesterday of thousands of people fleeing cities in Syria. The conditions, the fear and despair on their faces was heart wrenching. These people do not have the luxury of forgetting. They hold their family members close and leave everything behind in search of that ability to forget, but they can’t.

I am reading a wonderfully composed book entitled: “All the Light we Cannot See.” It is another portrayal of life in Europe during WWII. It may be fiction, but it is based on the reality of what took place in France, Germany, England, Austria and the rest of the continent. The characters in this book did not have the luxury of forgetting.

Maybe, just maybe, as important as we feel our jobs are in the restaurant business, it is simply a mechanism for all of us: staff and guests, to forget the hate that continues to spiral out of control within our country and throughout the world.

In recent years, things seem to be continually getting worse, and the tragedies of “defining moments” seem to happen much more frequently. Every day the scabs form and soon afterward someone picks them off, reminding us of the pain. Mass shootings, battles between police and communities, gang violence, countries looking to accumulate territories that are not their own, grotesque beheadings and acts of genocide, those who fight against acceptance of others who are different than them; it seems where ever you look there is festering hate. It is getting much more difficult to put on our “forget” hats.

America has always been a strong country filled with noble people willing to fight for freedom, and for what is right. It seemed for many generations that we could clearly identify the enemy that must be fought to protect others and ourselves. There seemed to be opportunities to win over evil and allow the scab to form and the cut to heal. But, how do you fight the enemy when the enemy is hate that starts on a small scale and grows to that uncontrollable virus? My father, I am sure like many of yours, fought in a war. He felt proud to defend what was right, but never shared those moments in his life when the battles took place. Those battles were not just the physical combat, but I am sure the battle in his conscience as well. He never talked about it because he wanted to forget. Talking would only serve to pull off the scab and bring back the pain.

Today, there are too many scabs, too many exposed cuts, too much hate. This begins with your interactions on the street, in the home, and at the office. It seems to me that the only long-term solution is to begin there. If we allow hate to exist in our every day interactions, then we are, in some way, contributing to the big problem. We can’t fight hate with hate.

Yes, horrific actions sometimes require immediate, and even aggressive action. When things are out of control, it does become necessary to respond and put a stop to the madness. But, these actions, in the long run will never stop future acts of horrific terror from taking place.

On this September 11, we should allow those cuts to be exposed, feel the pain of this momentous event in history, remember the tragic loss of life, and keep those victims and their families in our thoughts. At the same time, go for a walk, smile at people you pass and say hello. Shake a co-workers hand and give them a nod, put aside your political, religious, and societal differences and see the person in front of you as important and equal.

NEVER FORGET – BE THE AGENT OF CHANGE

Harvest America Ventures, LLC

http://www.harvestamericaventures.com

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A Sad Day for Those in the Restaurant Community

11 Wednesday Sep 2013

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A Sad Day for Those in the Restaurant Community

This is a day, as we all well know, that will always be remembered. September 11, 2001 was a day that changed all of our lives forever, a day when evil seemed to win over good. Each of us remembers where we were on that day and what we were doing. I was in a meeting when an administrative assistant stepped in to say that a plane had crashed into the World Trade Center. Each of us thought that this was likely a small private plane that went astray and proceeded with the meeting. A few moments later the same administrative assistant stepped in to say that a second plane had crashed into the Towers. We were first in shock as our thoughts immediately went to our own families and then to those who we worked with. It was quite a few hours, as the day unfolded, before were were able to grasp what was happening. I was a teacher and after calling my wife and children, turned to our students to counsel them and help to make sense of what was transpiring. Was this the beginning of the end? Who was responsible for this and how far reaching will this event become over the next few hours, days, weeks?

I would later find out that one of my former students, Chris Carstangen was on the second plane that crashed into the Towers. My heart broke for his family and friends. America, of course, acted and reacted bringing our country to a place that we would not have dreamed: 12 years of war trying to find an answer and prevent this from happening again on our soil.

As we remember that fateful day I felt that it was important to reflect on one group of people who suffered and then united as a result of 9/11. When the planes hit the Towers, one of America’s great restaurants fell target to this unthinkable attack on innocent people. Seventy-nine employees of Windows on the World Restaurant died on that day in 2001. They were serving breakfast and preparing for another beautiful day overlooking Manhattan. Chef Lomomaco, through a twist of fate, was delayed in arriving at work that morning while he was getting his eye glasses repaired. As he began his trip up through the Towers, the first plane hit and diverted people on to the street. He watched in horror as his restaurant burst into flames and the Towers eventually collapsed. Seventy-nine beautiful people who were his co-workers and friends lost their lives, leaving behind families and friends of their own.

Kevin Zraly was the director of the Windows on the World Wine School and shared in Chef Lomonaco’s grief and deep sense of loss. He too lost his friends and colleagues.

In the days that followed, restaurant workers, chefs and restaurant owners from NYC and around the country descended on Ground Zero to help feed the hundreds of firemen, police, and other volunteers who were sifting through the rubble looking for survivors and recovering those who lost their lives. It was what restaurant people do. It was the one way that we all know how to help and give some small sense of relief to those who were stunned, but committed to the awful task of recovery.

It took many years, but the New York landscape is returning to a sense of normalcy, restaurants have come and gone, but the food scene is once again vibrant, the 9/11 memorial is scheduled for an opening in the near future, and fundraisers have collected money to help the families of the restaurant workers who lost their lives on that day in 2001.

Today we remember all of the nearly 3,000 who lost their lives on 9/11, the subsequent thousands who lost their lives in Iraq and Afghanistan fighting to make sense of these events, and especially those innocent restaurant employees who only wanted to make great food, serve the public, and bring a smile to the face of those who could view Manhattan from the top of the world.

We will never forget.

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