My wife and I got through another 9/11 anniversary as we have done 9 times before.

This one was harder than the others. We got up early and walked to a spot close to our house where we have an unobscured view of the eastern sky. At 6:46 AM, we looked east, toward the Twin towers, The Pentagon, and especially, towards a field near Shanksville, Pa. And I could not contain my tears, for my friend from far past, pre-United for both of us, Jason Dahl; for the United and American flight and cabin crews, for our and their passengers; for their families, friends, loved ones, and for the victims and rescuers of those tragic, senseless, inhuman acts, and for all Americans.

My past 9/11s have either been at airline events or in the cockpit. I was the captain of a UA flight on the morning of 9/11/2001, a time of tragedy, confusion, and utter disbelief. Since that day I have always felt it my duty to safely fly my passengers to their destinations, as I do every other day, or attend and participate in one of the many events held by United, ALPA, or one of the other unions on the United property. When I fly on 9/11s, I do it not just safely, but proudly.

This time, instead of attending an airline-related event, we rode our motorcycles on a commemorative ride with 2,000 others in a decidedly non-partisan, non-judgmental, patriotic 75 mile ride around the area surrounding Denver International Airport.

Everyone put aside their differences for a long time after 9/11/01, as well as on every other 9/11 since then. The tenth anniversary was no exception.

No, I could not contain my tears...partly because so many people forget what setting aside their differences is all about, and lose their new-found but short-lived tolerance for one another.

FAB