Suicide can be described as an interpersonal act. It is killing oneself, yet it also kills a part of everyone who is close to, or loves, the person who dies by suicide. The emotional pain for the suicide victim is over, but it is only beginning for the survivors.

For the first time in many years this nation under God has come together and exhibited the values, the courage and the strength to demonstrate what real Americans are all about. Now our role models, our heroes, our leaders are not superstars, not sports figures, not captains of industry any longer but rather the guys next door. The fireman giving his life to rescue others, the coworker standing by the physically challenged, the policeman guiding others to safety while a torrent of debris falls on him, the passengers who elect to give their lives that others may live, the first graders who make peanut butter and jelly sandwiches for the rescue workers—these are our new heroes, these are our new role models, these are the true Americans.

Night before last, my 19-year-old son attempted to commit suicide by overdosing on a bottle of pills. Thank God, he is going to be fine. This event prompted me to write this article.

As I drove to work this morning, I turned on the radio as usual, and heard the announcer talking about a major fire in one tower of the World Trade Center in New York. They were interviewing a fireman who was informing us as to how difficult it would be to put out this kind of fire. I soon found out that an airplane had crashed into the side of the building.