This was a piece I did for a charity auction after September 11th, 2001. All proceeds were donated to the rescue dogs that combed through the rubble of the downed towers. My husband is a career firefighter, so I chose to focus on the firefighters that lost their lives that day. I will never forget receiving the page from my husband, advising of the attack, while I was sitting in a classroom miles away from home. I left class immediately, driving as fast as I could to get home (my husband had been put on alert to respond), all the while talking to my dad on the phone. I went straight to the firehouse, and sat with my friends and family and watched the television for hours. I was with individuals who understood the importance of what was happening (unlike the classroom I had just left, where fellow students were complaining about possible vacations being ruined, and the professor actually had the gall to turn off the television and announce that "her syllabus was more important than what was happening on the news"), and I felt safe there in the station, with men and women who knew the world we knew had just changed forever.