September 12, 2018
Yesterday was the 17th anniversary of the Islamic terrorist attack upon the Twin Towers. It was a day of tributes and remembrances, of solemn services and I suppose in some parts of the world, of glad rejoicing. I wanted to say something, but anything I might mention would pale in comparison with the words offered by those who witnessed it firsthand or experienced the loss of a loved one, so out of respect for those for whom yesterday is still raw with emotion, I decided to wait till tonight to offer my meagre thoughts.
On our way home from Dunkirk last night, we saw red lights flashing. It was the back road, so we slowed down and hugged the berm as we passed both Cassadaga and Sinclairville rescue vehicles in the driveway of a home. The rest of the way home, I was thinking about those men and women who volunteer so much of their time to serve their neighbors without pay and without complaint. They give up countless hours to train and certify, attend weekly equipment checks, conduct fundraisers and cook barbecues for a variety of community events and causes. They never ask for, and seldom receive even a thank you for their work, all of which is given above and beyond their regular jobs.
We owe a debt of gratitude to the men and women who serve so selflessly. Many are paid, but many more are not. I live where volunteers respond to every rescue call, every fire, no matter what time of day or night. Thank you, my friends. You help make our community a better place to live.
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