OPINION:
I will never forget Sept. 11, 2001. It started as one of the most beautiful late summer days I had ever seen in Washington.
I was working in the White House, getting ready for a scheduled meeting with President George W. Bush upon his return from Florida that day. I did not know as I made my morning sojourn that the day would become one of the darkest in American history.
I arrived earlier than usual that morning to prepare for an afternoon briefing with the president involving a large group from the American Association of Christian Schools. After a breakfast meeting with a ministry leader, I went back to my office in the Eisenhower Executive Office Building.
As I entered my office, my phone rang. A colleague was on the other end, and he told me that the afternoon meeting was off as no visitors would be allowed in the White House.
When I asked for further details, he told me to turn on my TV.
I did and started watching the horror unfold. I knelt at my desk and said a quick prayer, asking for God’s mercy on those in the World Trade Center and all those affected in New York and at the Pentagon, just a few miles away from the White House.
It was an unreal, horrible moment. The continental United States was under attack for the first time since the War of 1812, and innocent American citizens had lost their lives in the rubble of what was left of each of the twin towers. The planes that slammed into the buildings were truly lightning out of a clear blue sky, shifting the beautiful blue into a smoky, faint gray ash.
I continued to pray for the families of those who lost loved ones in New York, Washington and Pennsylvania, where some brave, ordinary men revolted against the hijackers and brought down the plane before it could reach the U.S. Capitol or the White House.
After an arduous two-hour commute instead of the usual 20 to 30 minutes, I arrived home to find my family, to my great relief, safe and sound. I gave them a big hug and did not want to let them go.
My wife then told me that the husband of one of our sons’ preschool teachers had been at the World Trade Center that day for a meeting, but by God’s grace, he was fine.
These words and memories, written as we approach the 25th anniversary of that terrible day, are my way of reflecting on and expressing gratitude for those who lost their lives or were severely injured — and for the families who never got to see their loved ones again, the brave first responders in New York City and Washington, and the courageous men on what was seemingly a routine flight who gave up their lives over Pennsylvania so others could live.
These men and women were the best of America, and 25 years later, we still owe them and their families our appreciation for the sacrifice — in some cases, the ultimate one — they made on our behalf.
For a brief period after the attack, we were once again the United States of America — linking arms regardless of political ideology, religious beliefs or ethnicity — standing shoulder to shoulder in support of one another and the nation we love. We were proud to be Americans.
At the end of what started out as a beautiful Washington day, and as we tucked our boys into bed, my wife and I settled in to seek a rare quiet moment. We gave thanks to the Lord for his protection and for the God-given freedoms bequeathed to us by our nation’s Founders.
It is my hope and prayer that as we gather in cities and towns across America to commemorate the 25th anniversary of 9/11, we never take those freedoms for granted. I hope that we continue to give daily thanks for those who fought for our freedoms in 1776 and those who died for them on Sept. 11, 2001, so that we can continue to live in the land of liberty.
• Timothy S. Goeglein is the vice president of government and external relations at Focus on the Family and co-author of a new book, “What Really Matters: Restoring a Legacy of Faith, Freedom, and Family” (Fidelis, 2026).
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