Twenty-Five Years Later, What I Remember About September 11

Twenty-five years ago this morning, I was working from home as an IT security architect for IBM e-Business.

Living on the East Coast, my mornings often started the same way. Catch up on overnight email, work through whatever security issues were waiting for me, drink coffee, and keep the morning news playing in the background.

I don't remember what I was working on that morning. I do remember the change in the voices of the news anchors.

Something had happened in New York City. A plane had crashed into the World Trade Center. From that point on, work stopped.

Like millions of people, I watched the events of September 11 unfold on television. I watched in shock as what initially seemed like a terrible accident became something very different.

I remember my eyes welling up numerous times that day. I felt shock, sadness, anger, and probably a dozen other emotions. But one feeling still stands out to me 25 years later.

Helplessness.

What could I do?

I was an IT security professional. Was there a cybersecurity angle? Was there some way the skills I had could help?

I didn't find a way to help that day.

Ten days later, I did.

On September 21, the major television networks came together for America: A Tribute to Heroes, a two-hour, commercial-free telethon supporting the victims and families of the September 11 attacks.

IBM had a special events team that supported major events such as the Olympics and professional tennis tournaments. I was asked to join the team providing intrusion detection and protection for the systems accepting donations during the broadcast.

We prepared for the possibility of significant attacks against those systems. And there were attacks, but surprisingly fewer than we anticipated and nothing major. We were prepared for an all-out battle and were relieved that one never came.

The telethon ultimately raised more than $200 million.

My contribution to that effort was small compared with the first responders, volunteers, service members, medical professionals, families, and countless others whose lives were forever changed by September 11.

But it gave me something I had been looking for since that morning.

A way to help.

There's one other thing I remember vividly from that night.

Fred Durst of Limp Bizkit and John Rzeznik of the Goo Goo Dolls performed Pink Floyd's "Wish You Were Here."

It's not the best rendition of the song I've ever heard. But it may be the most powerful.

The performances that evening took place without a studio audience. When the music stopped, there was no applause. No cheering.

Just silence.

Twenty-five years later, that performance still gets me. I watched it again while writing this.

It still does.

Today I remember the nearly 3,000 people who never came home on September 11, 2001, the people who ran toward danger to help them, and the millions of lives that were changed that day.

And I remember what it felt like to desperately want to do something.

Never forget.