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Before Sept. 11, 2001, that date was just an ordinary day. Even in the minutes that led up to 8:46 a.m. that day,  it appeared to be an ordinary day. People got up, got ready for work, said goodbye to their loved ones and headed to the office.

In the days that followed, this idea is what haunted me the most, after seeing all the horrible images on television. That for nearly 3,000 people, that morning started as just a regular day, whether it was a normal day at work or a trip to the airport with an expectation that they would make it to their destination. It was a reminder of the extraordinary blessing of an ordinary day. With this in mind, I wrote the following song a few days after 9/11.

He straightened his tie
Then he changed his shirt
Because he thought
It looked a little bit wrinkled
He combed his hair
He squinted in the mirror
He made a face
Because he thought he saw a wrinkle
It was an ordinary day
It was an ordinary day

He walked downstairs
He bought a paper
September 11
He read it on the train
It was an ordinary day
It was an ordinary day

She kissed her husband
She kissed her son
She called her mother
Whose day had just begun
She grabbed her case
She drove to the station
She caught her train
It was an ordinary day

It’s hard to believe it was intentional
Hatred so deep, incomprehensible
It was hard to fathom as the sky turned gray
That it started as an ordinary day.

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