September 2001, I was living in downtown Jersey City. My bedroom and living room faced the World Trade Center and I took the PATH train from Exchange Place under the Hudson River to the World Trade Center almost every day. On Tuesday, September 11th, my work appointments that day had been pushed back to late morning, so I was leaving later than usual and was still in New Jersey when everything began. My neighborhood quickly became a staging area for boat rescues, and in the ensuing days, shift coordination for the firefighters and rescue dogs. Deliveries and volunteers arrived from all across the country, and as my neighbors and I made sandwiches for everyone for days on end, a random memory that stands out were the truckloads of dog food arriving with the name of every recognizable pet food company emblazoned on the side, and then boxes and boxes of booties for the rescue dogs' paws. I remember wondering how everything needed was just arriving and seeing American flags on every home and business and this feeling of everyone working together toward a common goal which was to support our grieving country.