Today marks the two-year anniversary of the tragic day will be remembered for all time as the day that changed the lives of every person on the planet Earth. A day that saw the madness of one man effect the lives of billions of others. And a day that will always be remembered by two now infamous numbers - 9/11.

As I sit atop the 10th floor atrium of Two World Financial Center, just across the street from Ground Zero and stare at the most famous sixteen acres in the world, I recall all of the times I was here before. I was unfortunately here for the attack itself, and then every subsequent event following that horrible day. From the one-month anniversary, to President Bush's first visit, to the six-month anniversary, to the end of the recovery and clean up effort, to the one-year anniversary - and now the two-year anniversary. I have been here so many times I feel as if I should move here.

But when I walked out onto the atrium again today - I got a sense of Deja vu I never experienced before. I was here only minutes and felt like I never left from the last time I was here. I saw familiar faces, instantly remembered my tour routine and duties - and jumped right into the job with both feet.

But along with those memories came the memories that have haunted me for the last 730 days and are so deeply entrenched into my brain that I will never be able to remove them - the memories of the worst 102 minutes of my life.

Whether my eyes are open or closed and no matter what I am staring at - I can see the attack as if I was watching it on video. From seeing the gaping hole inside the top of tower one to screaming as I watched the second of the two mighty towers fall - every second of that morning replays in my head like an instant replay. And the longer I sit here - the more details I remember.

From where I am currently sitting, I have a clear view of the spot where I was standing when the first tower came down. I can still see, as clear as day, the corner columns of the mighty monolith snapping one by one like frail twigs. I can still feel my Adam's apple vibrating in my throat as I screamed, "Oh my God!" over and over again louder than I have ever screamed before. I recall the face of the female police officer who screamed at myself and everyone around me to get away from the tower - and the fear on her face as she gave that order. And I still feel the pain in my heart as I realized that Doug would not be coming home.

I have a feeling that if this was the fifty-year anniversary of that fateful September morn, the Deja vu that I am experiencing would be just as apparent - and the memories that scarred my soul would still be just as vivid.

And that I would be probably sitting right here.