"My building is 1 Liberty Plaza, the building that was rumored to be collapsing yesterday -- right across the street from the WTCs. I got to my building after the first plane hit and was in the lobby when the second one hit. I saw men and women jumping out of the 80th floor of Tower One. It was either jump and not feel anything or be burned alive. I can't fully describe what it is like to see that (I'm tearing up just thinking about it). It's one thing to watch people jump from buildings on 'Fox's Scariest Police Videos' (those people all miraculously survive), but it's different when you actually see it and know they're gone.
"I go -- I'm sorry, went -- into the Trade Centers every day. I can remember the faces of people who worked on the 104th and 76th floors, where I'd drop off documents. Those could be the people that had to jump or were caught in the flames or were crushed in the collapse. If the building was hit a couple of hours later, it could have been me that had to decide between burning or jumping. Every time I close my eyes I picture the guy I saw jump out of the flames and cartwheel 80 stories, not to mention the screams of people around me watching the same thing. My mom asked me last night if I feel any guilt for being alive -- if I felt should have been in there. No. No one should have been there. No one deserves to die like that."

From reader D. Chiossi:
"I'm a school teacher during the year and work at a summer camp in July and August. During the day yesterday, I decided to call the summer camp I work at and inquire about everyone and see if everything was 'OK.' Upon calling camp, I learned that one of the brothers of a person I work with was on Flight 93. It was discouraging to hear that news.
"Later that day, driving home from school, I was listening to the radio when they cut to a simulcast of a MSNBC report about the passengers' actions on Flight 93. Upon listening to this report, they spoke of a 'Jeremy Glick.' After a few seconds, I realized it was the brother of Jared, the person I work with at camp. From all accounts and conversations I had, he called his wife, inquired about the Trade Center planes, and then said, 'We're not gonna let this happen here.'
"From there, I'm sure everyone has heard the story. It seems that they were able to take the plane down, die in the process, but save America from another crash into another landmark and further denting our already fragile psyche.
"Earlier Tuesday morning, I was making preparations for our fantasy football league and completing stats from Monday night. Included in our stat update was the invite to come over to the house to watch the games on DirecTV. I learned this afternoon that at 2 p.m. Sunday, I will be at a memorial service for a true American Hero."

Some images we will never get out of our heads soon enough, if ever.

So maybe that's what comes out of this thing: airports beef up their security and spend more money for competent employees, every flight gets its own air marshal, we pay a few more bucks with our airfares, we sacrifice an extra hour or so of our time before every flight ... and something like what happened this week never happens again.

From reader J. Becker:
"I work(ed) at One Liberty Plaza in NYC, the big office building across from the South Tower that has been rumored to be collapsing for the last two days. My desk in my fourth floor office is (was) pressed up right against the window, facing the South Tower. Each day I take the PATH train into the basement of the WTC and arrive there around 8:35-8:40, then take about five to seven minutes to walk through the WTC concourse, and then walk in front of the building, across the street to my office. This plan would put me in or near the WTC right as the first plane hit, and who knows what would have happened next.
"As it turns out, my new baby son was born two weeks ago. I had planned to go back to work last Monday -- the day before the attack -- but my son developed complications last week and has been in the hospital since (we think he'll wind up OK soon). Because of his condition, I have continued to stay home in northern New Jersey and was not anywhere near the WTC that morning.
"Additionally, I had a meeting in San Francisco on Tuesday that I needed to attend, but because of my son, I decided to do the meeting via conference call instead. However, as my son improved over the weekend, I seriously considered flying out first thing Tuesday morning, taking the first flight out from Newark Airport (as I have done many times previously). Unfortunately (at the time), my son's condition worsened Sunday night, and I changed my mind for good Monday morning, deciding to stay home Tuesday and participate via phone instead. The flight that I would have been on? United No. 93, the one that crashed in western Pennsylvania.
"Assuming my son makes a complete recovery through this, one day I will let him know how happy I was that he was very ill in the first few weeks of his life. Either way, I would have been in harm's way in New York or on that plane. You just never know."

During the midafternoon on Tuesday, I realized that a friend of mine named Dan McLaughlin worked at the WTC -- we went to college together (Holy Cross), and he wrote a column for me called "The Baseball Crank" on my old "Boston Sports Guy" website. After some frantic web-surfing, I found out that Dan's office was located on the 57th floor of Building One; I e-mailed some of his college buddies, and they hadn't heard anything from him.

From reader P. Curtis:
"I just wanted to drop you a line about this week's horrific events. I was fortunate to know the pilot of AA flight 11, John Ogonowski. John used to be a regular customer at a deli I managed not far from his home. He would come in sometimes reeking of the manure that he had been spreading at his farm. He would just smile or laugh when people would tease him about it. From time to time he would come in dressed in his uniform just heading off to a flight or returning from one. I used to tell him that he must drive one hell of a tractor.
"Every year, I would make my annual trip to Saratoga for the running of the Travers Stakes. It is always a big family gathering for us. Every year John would bring me a huge sack of his just picked sugar & butter corn. Never had to ask, and never got charged. He was proud to be a pilot. He was proud to be a farmer. I would still see him around town or in a pub that we both frequent, and he never forgot a friend. He was a decent man and I can only hope he didn't suffer long at the hands of those murderous bastards.
"What does this have to do with sports? Nothing. But what the hell do sports have to do with anything anymore? Thanks for letting me write."

One thing we can be proud about is the courage of New York's firefighters and police.

Right now I have one of those ghastly Vitaly Potapenko-type beards going ... and I don't care. I'm not shaving until Team Bush pulls a Maximus and we have our vengeance on somebody. I've never felt emotions quite like this before -- rage, vengeance, it's all there. And it doesn't ever let up. I almost feel irrational right now, and I'm probably one of the most rational people you'll ever meet. I feel like a few cowardly people changed our lives -- forever -- and somebody needs to pay for it. I can't stop thinking about it.

From reader D. Carabello:
"The tragedies of Tuesday were numbing, and right now nothing to me really matters except knowing my friends and family are OK. Our rights as Americans were totally violated Tuesday, and our lives really will never be the same. And if you've ever heard this song, it's been playing over and over in my head for the last few days ..."
And the rivers shall open for the righteous (2x)
And the rivers shall open for the righteous, someday
I went walking, with my brother
And he wondered, oh, how I am
Said what I believe with my soul
Ain't what I see with my eyes
And there's no turning back this time
I am a patriot, and I love my country
Because my country is all I know
I wanna be with my family
People who understand me
I got no place else to go ... I am a patriot ...
I went walking, with my girlfriend
She looked so fine, I said baby what's on your mind
She said I wanna run like the lions
Released from their cages
Released from the rages burning in my soul tonight ... I am a patriot ...
And I ain't no communist, and I ain't no socialist
And I ain't no capitalist, and I ain't no imperialist
And I ain't no democrat, I sure ain't no republican either
I only know one party, and that is freedom, I am, I am, I am
I am a patriot, and I love my country
Because my country is all I know
And the rivers shall open for the righteous (2x)
And the rivers shall open for the righteous, someday
Someday, someday, someday...
-- Steven Van Zandt's "I am a Patriot"

At my local Dunkin' Donuts on Wednesday morning, I couldn't help but notice that the people working behind the counter were undoubtedly of Mid-Eastern descent. They looked edgy and grim, like customers had been sneaking them dirty looks all morning. I couldn't help but feel badly for them. Just one of those things that gets an already crappy morning off to an even worse start.

From reader J. Villani:
"A friend of mine who is very close to me worked on the 78th floor of Tower 2. He started his day like the rest of us, except at 8:45 he looked out his window to see the sister tower across from him suddenly explode. Instantly thinking bomb, they started to leave by elevator.
"He got down to the 44th floor where conference rooms are located and was met by a guard who assured them that Tower 2 was OK, and if they wanted, could return to the office. Upon thinking, and quite wisely, he and two female co-workers returned to the elevator and started to head down.
"As the doors were closing, the second airplane struck just 11 floors above them. The elevator jarred and stuck and as the door closed, he wedged himself into it to help the others. He accidentally slipped and the elevator door closed, trapping one of the women. The shriek of horror was indescribable. Instead of selfishly running for the stairwell, my friend, with burning debris falling around him, pried the door open by hand, and got the woman out. He ran down the stairs with her, made it out, and 10 minutes later, the building collapsed.
"I spoke with him today. He is suffering immense 'survivor's guilt,' because some very close to him did not make it out. The woman he stayed back for called him to thank him, and he broke down into tears. I have never been prouder of someone in my life. I had a good friend become a great one.
"I hope he realizes some day that his acts are truly heroic, and he has nothing to feel guilty for."

Even many of the heroes of these events are suffering survivor's guilt.

There was a reason you didn't hear from me this week -- those "These are the moments that remind us that sports is just a game" columns make me nauseous. I hate reading them almost as much as I would have hated writing one this week. Every few years, no matter what tragedy is involved, those same columns start getting pumped out -- whether it's the San Fran Earthquake, Oklahoma City, this week or whatever. Enough already.

From reader J. Thomson:
"It has been very difficult to drive past the Pentagon to and from work these last few days. Every time I drive by that charred side of the Pentagon I have a sick feeling in my stomach, and wish that I had given my life in the place of our nation's soldiers, sailors and airmen who died for their country. I feel lucky, but the hurt is overwhelming, and I know some heroes in the air over Pennsylvania perhaps let me cheat death a second time in the same day, when they knew from relatives on the phone describing the events in NYC that were simply going to be used as a flying bomb, and cheated the terrorists themselves.
"These people are heroes. If children in this nation feel they need athletes as role models, I would tell them think again, and hang a picture of one of those passengers killed in a nameless field in Pennsylvania or a picture of a broken and battered FDNY survivor leading blinded civilians from the collapses on their bedroom wall ... true heroes like these won't have Nike printing posters of them, but they should."

One reader would have given his life in place of the soldiers killed at the Pentagon.

One last thought before I let you go...