In Remembrance: Tuesday, September 11, 2001

Home. I came to a spot where a white pilgrim lay And pensively stood by his tomb. And in a low whisper a voice seemed to say How sweetly I rest here alone. The tempest may howl and the loud thunders roll Dark gathering storms shall arise; But the same God that led me through storms dark and drear Has kindly conducted me home. - anonymous poem recited by Frank Church, from the recollections of Esther Church Bierwirth