We aren't a news magazine, and we don't cover current events except as they relate to our industry, so I had to think long and hard about what to say in this edition. Nevertheless, I decided that at least in my editorial, we would remember September 11th.

Our premier issue was launched the week before the attack. As you may know, the publishing company is in New Jersey, a few miles from the New York border. And I live in New Jersey and work there, as well as in New York city itself.

On the 11th, I was driving to West Orange, which is about 20 miles away from NYC. There's a high ridge on the way to my office, from which you can see the skyline, or at least a bit of it, on a clear day. That day, I saw a plume of smoke at a little after 9 a.m., as I crested the ridge. My cell phone sprang to life, with friends who were watching the news telling me of a plane crash, and warning me not to go into the tunnels to the city, as I often do. Later that day, I took one of my colleagues to my house, since it was impossible to return to NYC that day.

We recently held our second annual Web Services Edge conference at the Javits Center, which attracted over 7,000 attendees. As the tech chairman, I was both honored and humbled to be in the city again. Our first show was September 24-27, less than two weeks after the attack. Although we had some cancellations, we carried on, as Rudy Guiliani asked, with "business as usual." And 2500 people turned out to carry on with us.

During the week, I went down to Ground Zero for the first time. It was strange, and I couldn't quite grasp the enormity of it all. Then I got my bearings, and saw that a park I used to walk through on my way to Wall Street had been turned into a parking lot for emergency vehicles. The whole world tilted for a moment, and I stopped walking and just stood there. The friends who were with me even got concerned. But it was only then that the full impact hit me. I knew where I was, and knew that the street I walked on, close to the gigantic hole in the earth, was the same street that I had emerged to countless times from the PATH train.

I often work in an office above Grand Central Station. And I see the signs, the postings from people who've lost loved ones, in the corridors of the station. It's a moving, chilling experience. I see the notes, taped to pictures of lost relatives, from others who knew them, and who wanted to let them know that they too grieved for the loss.

We at the magazine also grieve. Each of us knew someone who was there who survived, or who didn't. My sympathies and condolences go out to every family who lost a loved one during that merciless day, be it in New York, Washington, or the woods of Pennsylvania.

I can only say that we here at SYS-CON, like many others in the United States, have learned to treasure our freedom even more dearly. I value highly, and closely guard, the right to express my opinion, and for others to do the same. I'm proud to live in the United States of America, where we are free to speak our minds, and willing to give our lives for such freedom. Thank you to those who have given all, our servicemen and women, and all who have striven to make our country safe for freedom.

God Bless America.