“‘Dad, Sean isn’t answering. I’m scared.’ I see breaking news. There was a shooting at an apartment complex. I hear the reporter, ‘People are saying an officer was involved in the shooting.’ My heart sank. I knew right then, it was Sean. Then the black SUVs stopped in front of our house.”
“Today, I watched an elderly man who had obviously fallen, with a huge scrape and blood on his leg. He walked past people in the cafe, while he slowly made his way to his car. Not one person stopped. Or looked. Or acknowledged him.”
This year, 17 years after the fatal attacks, the tradition continues. Never forget.