11 September 2001 was a Tuesday. So is 11 September 2018. But the sky in 2001 was striking in its blueness. Such a beautiful, deep blue. We felt no oppressive sense of foreboding like we feel beneath gray skies while Hurricane Florence churns off the coast of the Carolinas, threatening our family and friends who live within its powerful reach. We know Florence is there, know what such a storm is capable of, know her every move as she makes it and can predict — with reasonable accuracy — what each move might lead to. But in and beneath the blue September skies of 2001, only those sitting terrified in the planes or curiously, suspiciously watching them as blips on a screen noticed the moves made, and none could predict what those moves would lead to from that day to now.