Nine years ago I worked with my uncle at various post offices around the country. My uncle, Bo, and I were stepping out of the back door of the downtown post office in Philadelphia to take a break when a police officer walked up to us and asked to see our identification.

We handed it over and asked what was going on. He told us a plane hit the World Trade Center a few moments earlier.

My first thought was that it was a small, private airplane and that the event was an accident. Bo apparently thought the same thing and we went about our business.

When we went back inside, we learned it was no accident. We walked back into the post office moments after another plane hit the second tower.

When we learned the Pentagon had been hit Bo and I decided we did not want to be in a big federal building located a few blocks from where the Founding Fathers signed the Declaration of Independence, so we retreated to the rural countryside of Maryland.

I remember those days as vividly as if they happened last week.

I watched the television, waiting for news I could understand what was happening and why.

I listened to radio reports of people celebrating in the Middle East.

I tried desperately to call back to Alabama and let my mother know I was okay — fortunately I was able to get in touch with her fairly quickly.

I also remember the deafening silence of my hotel room located across the street from the airport when the flights were grounded for more than a week.

I felt anger because a small group of terrorists felt the need to kill so many innocent Americans. I felt fear because these events were happening so close — Philadelphia is roughly 100 miles from both New York City and Washington D.C.

But mostly I felt concerned because the world I had known for the previous 21 years was gone forever and I knew things would never be the same again.

I don’t think too often about my experiences on Sept. 11, 2001, but during the past few weeks there have been two events — the proposed construction of a mosque near the World Trade Center site and a planned protest by a Florida church that includes the burning of several copies of the Quran — that have caused me to think quite a bit about that day.

I adamantly oppose both ideas for several reasons that I do not have enough room to explain here.

As I think about that day, I think of what I have learned.

I think of the resiliency of Americans and that, although they bicker constantly among themselves, they will bond together to face an outside threat.

I think of how safe, yet vulnerable we are. We do not face constant conflict in the streets like some countries do.

It gives us a sense of peace, but it also gives us a sense of complacency, and the attack on the World Trade Center and the Pentagon proved how dangerous that can be.

Mostly I think about the overall mindset of Americans. We were sad and terrified on that horrible day, but we are recovering.

Unfortunately, I don’t think we will ever feel as happy and safe as we did when we went to bed on the night of Sept. 10, 2001.