Ground Zero: The face of no hope.

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September 11th, 2001 8:45 AM – It was a sunny Tuesday morning in Jersey City, New Jersey. Business as usual in the steel mill, overlooking the majestic skyline of New York City.

High above the workers, Larry operated his crane, moving large piles of steel across the yard.

Its not unusual to see and hear a commercial jet fly above him. However, an oncoming plane was particularly loud. It was louder than most, because it was flying at a far lower altitude than the rest of the planes that pass by.

So low that Larry can actually see the faces of the passengers.

The encounter took less than a nanosecond, but it seemed so much longer. Larry made eye contact with one passenger. A very sad man with a grim countenance.

It was the face of a man who knew he was about to die.

They were the passengers of American Airlines Flight 11, and it was just seconds before that jet crossed the water, and exploded on impact into One World Trade Center.

That man’s face will haunt Larry for the rest of his life.

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Disclaimer: The views expressed herein are solely those of Eric Brooks. They do not necessarily reflect those of his employers, friends, contacts, family, or even his pets (though my cat, Puddy, seems to agree with me on many key issues.). In accordance to my terms of use, you hereby acknowledge my right to psychoanalyze you, practice accupuncture, and mock you incessantly with every visit. As the user, you also acknowledge that the author has been legally declared a "Problem Adult" by the Commonwealth of Pennsylvania, and is therefore not responsible for any of his actions.