To the Editor:

On September 10, 2001, my friend Michael Pascuma, Jr, told me to pull out the black date book that I carried to note of all my commitments. He told me to add another to the list: August 10, 2002. His daughter was getting married, and he wanted to be sure that I would make it to the ceremony.

As fate would have it, it was Mike who wouldn't make it to that wedding. The next day, on a sunny Tuesday, September 11, he and seven other of our colleagues on the floor of the American Stock Exchange set out early to attend a breakfast meeting at Windows on the World in the North Tower of the World Trade Center. In the same tower, the son of another of our colleagues was going about his day.

But what was "normal" for Mike and all of the rest of us came to a sudden halt at 8:46 that morning when American Airlines Flight 11 from Logan Airport, with a crew of 11 and 76 passengers, flew into the North Tower. All of those at the risk management conference and everyone at their desks at Cantor Fitzgerald lost their lives.

For all of us who survived, we are left with a "before" and an "after." Our lives will always be sharply split in two by the tragedy of September 11, 2001.

Much has changed in the years that have slipped past since then. Children born on that day are now teenagers. Some college students have little or no firsthand memory of what happened on 9/11; it is becoming an event that belongs to history.

Much has changed in the world. My lost colleagues wouldn't recognize it today. For years, we all worked as floor brokers. We worked for different firms, but shared a friendly rivalry, combined with deep friendship and trust forged over the years.

We can't let 9/11 memorials become rote commemorations just because the attacks themselves are now history, like the Amex trading floor. I think that it's at the small events, organized by those who lost loved ones, that the true spirit of memory and mourning is evoked. We gather together to remember those we lost, and demonstrate that even if time has blunted the pain, it hasn't dented our pride in what this memorial, and this country, stands for: freedom and democracy. Neighbors and families stand together to shoulder the pain of our losses and share the pride in our way of life. I invite you to join us this year as we reflect, remember, and prepare to move forward.

This will mark the 14th year that I have convened a memorial to honor Mike and my colleagues. The 15th anniversary of that tragic day shall be commemorated at 68 Dodgingtown Road (Route 302), within the driveway, at the site of the American Flag Memorial painted on the cluster of six maple trees by artist David Merrill, at 8 am, September 11.

Howard Lasher

68 Dodgingtown Road, Newtown         September 2, 2016