I wasn’t thinking about terrorism, life and death, or whether I would see my family again. I was thinking about breakfast.

I put a bagel in the toaster.

Twenty-five years later, that small detail stays with me because it represents the life I had before everything changed. I believed this was simply another Tuesday, not knowing that within minutes, I would be running for my life.

Then the building shook violently beneath me. The explosion thundered through the tower, rattling the walls, shattering the ordinary rhythm of the morning, and sending a jolt of terror through my body.