Two anniversaries were this week, and both have personal meaning for me. Twenty years ago, I was across the street from the World Trade Center when it collapsed. I wrote about that day in the Wall Street Journal.
As a crowd from the Journal’s building watched the first tower burn, an architect I was standing next to suddenly remarked that he didn’t think the steel girders of the towers would stand up to a jet-fuel fire. We looked at each other and walked away with anyone who wanted to join us. Less than five minutes later, the first tower collapsed. He may have saved my life — and those of others.
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