Everyone was affected by the attacks on 9/11 in some way.
For me it was a bit more personal.
I lost a good friend, Richard Gabriel, on Flight 77 that hit the Pentagon that morning.
He served during Vietnam and was a purple heart recipient for wounds received in battle.
I was working less than 1/2 mile from the Pentagon and never heard the plane hit. My wife called to tell me that a plane hit the Pentagon. I went outside my office and was met with smoke and the smell of burning jet fuel.
Little did I know Richard was on that plane.
That day changed me and it was what propelled me to become a volunteer firefighter years later.
My fire company was at the Pentagon, with over 30 of my brothers and sisters working 12 hour shifts for over a week.
These are a couple of photos of some of my gang. So proud to call them family.
Many of them still volunteer to this day, and a few have passed.
I am proud to be an American. Today. Every Day.