Some of you know this story already, but since it's been 15 years I'm going to share it again ...
It was September 2001 and I was in Washington DC at an academic conference. I was scheduled to leave on September 9th. I unexpectedly ran into a friend from graduate school, Lorenzo, who I hadn't seen in years. Lorenzo is also the godparent of my son, Sebastian.
We had a lot of catching up to do so I made arrangements to stay. My new itinerary had me leaving the morning of September 11.
After dinner, I thought to myself, "I need to get back and help with the kids" since they were 2 and 3 years at the time, and a real handful. I called the airlines to ask if I could leave earlier. They made the switch.
If I had stayed in DC to visit the flight I would have been on was American Airlines Flight 77. As many of you know, this was the plane that slammed into the Pentagon.
I think about this every September 11th, and try to remember it whenever I think I'm having a bad day.