there, and held each other, crying, touching the display case as if they were touching their fallen husband, daddy, hero.  In front of us was a few beat up, scarred up helmets worn by firefighters, and the remains of Ladder Three’s fire truck.  Beth and I touched Amy’s and Dani’s shoulders.  I made my way up to the display glass and touched it.  I closed my eyes and sent up a prayer for Amy, Dani, and all those families who lost a loved one that day, who were still struggling with their loss, as tears made their way down my cheeks.  At that moment, I didn’t know whether the men, who wore those beyond damaged hats, had lived or not, but seeing Amy and Dani crying there, my heart shattered, and the enormity of 9/11, the loss of life, the powerful destruction, got t...

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