Dear Editor:
Tonight we stand at water’s edge, gazing in bewilderment at twin light beams reaching upward into the universe, touching perhaps the very souls that perished on that site, on that night, tonight. Flags and flowers, candles and tears, prayerful silence questioning why, in disbelief of what we saw that changed forever each of our lives. Thankful to be here but wishing we weren’t. Asking “why them?” and perhaps “when me?” Many who live died a little that day. Fifty-four from our town we’ll see no more. And never will we see anything the same.
Michael Buoncristiano