ALWAYS STAND TALL | Memories of My 20th Wedding Anniversary Gift
In June 2001, our children surprised Victor and me with a trip to New York City for our 20th wedding anniversary. Of course, they “had” to come along too—and I am so grateful they did.
After moving from the Bronx to New England in 1996, our then-18-year-old daughter and 15-year-old son secretly planned what would become one of our most memorable anniversaries and family trips.
This family of former New Yorkers had an awesome time. We enjoyed jazz at Birdland, shopped in the World Trade Center’s underground mall, felt the summer breeze while riding the Staten Island Ferry and walked throughout lower and midtown Manhattan.
Our children had one mission for us: visit the city without calling anyone we knew and simply act like tourists.
And we did!
New York Was Part of Our Family Story
Although I grew up in southern New Hampshire and Western Massachusetts, New England was not originally “home” for the rest of my family. My husband was raised in Brooklyn and later moved to the Bronx. We raised our children in northeastern Pennsylvania before moving back to New York City—and eventually to New England.
Our children have said that living in the Bronx had one of the greatest influences on their lives. Looking back, I believe it also had a lasting influence on mine.
Before we left Springfield for our anniversary trip, the children surprised me with a beautiful pearl necklace and matching post earrings. I gladly wore them when we went to Birdland Jazz Club—another surprise! Birdland was somewhere I had longed to visit, especially after returning to New England.
We stayed in lower Manhattan, a favorite area for our family, at the Marriott Hotel located at 3 World Trade Center.
After we arrived, my daughter asked whether she and her brother could go shopping in the underground mall for shirts to wear to Birdland. In the past, whenever we traveled downtown, we stayed together. But they were growing up, and I knew it was time to let them explore the “Big City” without us.
They had street smarts and understood the subway and bus routes. Still, I had to release some of the uneasiness that mothers naturally feel during moments like this.
I felt better after they promised to keep their cell phones on and remain inside the World Trade Center Mall, near the PATH train station.
None of us could have imagined that only three months later, the Twin Towers, the hotel, surrounding buildings and the underground mall would be devastated.
A Place I Knew Well
When I was single and during the first years of my marriage, I enjoyed working as a temporary office professional in New York City. Those assignments helped me get to know the city well—especially lower Manhattan.
It seemed that I was frequently assigned to offices near the World Trade Center and Wall Street. I often ate lunch outdoors, sitting on a cement border surrounding one of the landscaped areas near the buildings.
From the Bronx, I traveled by subway: the No. 4 train, followed by transfers that carried me downtown to the Financial District. I truly enjoyed the hectic and sometimes chaotic rhythm of working in New York City.
That familiarity made what happened on September 11 feel even more personal.
When Joy and Grief Became Intertwined
The collapse of the Twin Towers and the destruction surrounding the World Trade Center created horrific memories for people throughout the world.
For me, one of the most joyful memories of my life suddenly became connected to one of the most painful.
My nephew was working downtown that morning and, thankfully, escaped the devastation. Tragically, two of my spiritual sisters who were working in the towers were among those who lost their lives.
For a time, I found myself dwelling on the timing and all the “what-ifs.”
What if we had taken our anniversary trip three months later?
What if my children had been shopping underground that morning?
Eventually, I had to stop.
I learned that acknowledging tragedy does not require surrendering every joyful memory connected to that place. I could accept the painful reality while still cherishing the precious moments—past, present and future—that bring joy and remind me that life can remain wonderfully meaningful.
Like downtown New York City, we can rebuild.
We do not rebuild by forgetting. We rebuild by remembering, healing, creating and carrying love forward.
The Beginning of “Always Stand Tall”
My personal experience moved me to write and share my thoughts about resilience, emotional growth and sincere care for everyone affected by the tragedy.
With the healing passage of time, I wanted to create something that could offer encouragement, strength and hope amid life’s turbulence.
The original “Always Stand Tall” fiber-art tapestry, created in 2001. Only two were ever woven. © 2001 L.J. O’Neal.
Those feelings became my three-dimensional acrostic poem, “Always Stand Tall.” I later had the artwork woven into two heirloom-quality, 100% cotton fiber-art tapestries.
Only two of these original tapestries were ever produced. Before I could order more, the manufacturer that had developed the weaving process closed without notice.
I safeguarded both tapestries for more than 20 years before deciding that one of them needed a meaningful new home.
I gifted one tapestry to my niece for donation to Millennium High School in lower Manhattan, where she teaches visual arts. Established after September 11, the school chose the Phoenix as its mascot—a symbol of rising from the ashes and beginning again.
I could not imagine a more fitting home for this treasured piece of fiber art.
A Message That Continues
“Always Stand Tall” was—and remains—my gift to my family and friends. Now, I share it with you.
I have returned to its message during many of my own challenges. It reminds me that standing tall does not mean that we never struggle, grieve or need support. It means that we continue moving forward with quiet strength, one step at a time.
On September 11, 2026, 25 years after the attacks, I decided to carry this message forward through the ALWAYS Stand Tall™ Heritage Collection and Quiet Strength Collection.
These collections are not intended to remain centered on tragedy. They are an extension of the poem’s enduring message: honor what has shaped you, recognize your strength and continue looking toward tomorrow.
Let us keep clearing away life’s distractions—especially distress—while finding our true joy and helping others do the same.
Always stand tall.
~L.J. O’Neal