I never forget the horrible Tuesday, as I stood in front of my bathroom over-the-sink mirror, attempting to put on mascara, in the reflection, I could see the bedroom television, set on channel 7-news, at that moment streaming the horrific image of one of the twin towers on flames. I turned around, and inched closer to the television set, increasing the volume; I stared in disbelief, hoping that what I was seeing on the screen was a preview to a movie stunt – because I wasn’t going to allow myself to believe what I was hearing was real. Never realizing that the rest of the day and weeks to follow would be one of the worst I have experienced in my lifetime – as the news of multiple (air) attacks on our nation spread. After watching the news on repeat for an hour, I assumed I needed to report to work, not really  knowing what was expected of me during a national crisis of this caliber. So I left the house in a state of shock, and drove to Stanford University, where I was manager of the on-campus student travel agency. During my 40-mile commute along an unusually traffic-free highway, I wondered if I was doing the right thing going into to work, more so when I sensed the uncommonly quiet across the skies, more obvious  as I passed SFO International. Upon unlocking the door to the shop, which was located in the student-union building, I noticed a crowd of students and faculty gathered around a television set, starting some in silence, some crying, while others vocalizing-trying to make sense of …