Three weeks ago today, cowardly terrorists destroyed the World Trade Center full of thousands of innocent people with two airplanes full of even more innocent people. In the aftermath of their devastation - thousands of people were killed - including my best friend.

Three weeks later, I have dealt with twelve-hour workdays both at the OEM Command Center and at Ground Zero; I have dealt with watching those I love grieve over what happened on September 11th - and I have written fourteen columns about the tragedy - but in all of that - I have not written, talked about - or dealt with Doug's death at all - because for the life of me - I can not figure out how to say goodbye.

Douglas Farnum has been a staple in my life since the day I met him almost six years ago. In that way too short time, he has gone from my co-worker, to my friend - to my brother. I published his first article, I helped him move into his apartment - and I stood right by his side as he pledged his love and his life to Amy - and now - he is gone - taken from me and all those that he loved by soulless cowards in a fleeting moment of pure hatred three weeks ago today.

Just moments after Doug was gone, I felt the pain and the void of losing him. I found myself driving to work without him along for the ride; I found all of my friends at my house except one; I have heard my phone ring countless times - but never heard him on the other end - and I find myself sitting here for the second time this year once again typing a column about a friend that is gone forever.

As soon as I ran to the window of my office and saw a hole ripped in the Trade Center - I was afraid that Doug was either hurt - or worse. As I took the elevator to the ground floor of my building - I had a dozen or so memories flash through my mind as I prayed that Doug was ok. I remembered talking to him just ten minutes before the plane hit the building and saying to him that I would be at his office later that day for lunch. I remembered driving to work with him and Christine that morning and laughing as we drove like we always did. I remembered having lunch with him at the World Trade Center the day before - and him talking about having children. And now - as my friend is gone and the building he worked in a pile of twisted debris - that is all I can do - remember.

Even as I continue to type these words - the pain I feel in my heart and my chest is overwhelming. Doug was one of the most genuine people that I ever met - and to be ripped from life so quickly and mercilessly is beyond explanation. I can remember how he sounds, the way he laughed, the fun we had when we watched wrestling together - and the look in his eyes when he would talk about how much he loved Amy. I can also remember the plans that we had in the days following September 11th. Christine and I were going to throw Doug an Amy a barbecue on the weekend of their one-year wedding anniversary. Doug, Amy, Christine and myself were going to travel to my house upstate for a weekend in October. Doug and I were going to interview Yogi Bera for Hole In The Wall at the end of September - and we were going to spend Christmas at each other's homes sharing the joy of the holiday together.

Despite the fact that he did so much in his life - Doug had so much more to do. Frequently he talked to me about purchasing a home for himself and for Amy. Each time we spoke, be it in person or on the phone - he was always talking about the fact that he wanted a house. I recall him calling me at the Department of Buildings and asking me to look up perspective houses that he wanted to purchase. I remember him calling me with excitement when he deposited more money into his account for the down payment on the house - and I remember him telling me with pride how we will soon be visiting him and Amy at their new home for barbecues. He also did not have the opportunity to have children. Knowing Doug as well as I do, I know that he would have been as good of a father to his child as my father was to me. And now - that dream - and that child - will never be.

Just as I was half way through this column - I had to stop writing it and head to Ground Zero. When we arrived, I went to the place where I used to meet Doug for lunch. As I stared at what used to be the place where we shared an hour each workday - which is now fenced off and surrounded by still burning wreckage - tears filled my eyes as I realized that those days of leisurely lunch hours are over - because the Trade Center is gone - and so is my friend.

No matter what I do in my life, I will never forget the day that terrorists destroyed my City, my friend's life - and the lives of those he loved. No matter how fiercely we retaliate, no matter if they rebuild the World Trade Center or not - and no matter if they bring those monsters who did this to justice - it will never bring back my friend. The void in my life that was created on September 11th will never go away and for the rest of my life - I will have to go on knowing that my best friend was killed senselessly for nothing but hatred toward a country that believes in democracy, equality - and freedom.

As I try to find a song to close this column with, I recalled a song that Doug once told me he heard on the radio that moved him so much - that he immediately went out to buy the record. As I recall the words - I think it is appropriate to end this first of many columns that is dedicated to a man that I am honored to call a friend. And despite the fact that we can no longer spend time in each other's company, he will be on my mind and in my heart all the days of my life.