For many, Monday's horrific reports from the streets of Boston spurred recollections of September 11. I was on the streets of Manhattan that morning, the first plane roaring directly overhead as I walked to the office. The ensuing mayhem was as much disorienting as it was frightening. I watched along with several co-workers as the second plane hit, and the towers fell, and people died. We knew that nothing would ever be the same. And, for hours, we were trapped like proverbial rats in NYC with no way out.