Ferries and police boats bring people who were in Manhattan to Jersey City to receive medical attention on Sept. 11, 2001. / Star-Ledger file photo

Good morning, everyone.

Like all of us old enough to remember, I've told my version of "Where were you when the Towers fell?" too many times. Memories of the day now come in quick vignettes and flashes of feelings: Driving out Route 195 toward Neptune to work an early newsroom shift, under that blue sky. The clutch of women from the Features desk around a TV, where Katie Couric was talking about a plane maybe hitting the World Trade Center. Their gasps later when the second plane hit.

I was working on the editorial page then, just back from maternity leave, and while we tried to figure out what to say about the still-unfolding event, I spent a few hours "taking rewrite." That's old newspaper lingo meaning reporters read their notes over the phone, while I tried to keep up typing to make it usable on our rickety website and in the rare extra print edition that went out a few hours later.

One colleague had rushed from his home in Middletown up to the ferry terminal in Highlands, where hundreds of dust-covered, traumatized office workers were spilling off the boats, some unsure of where they had landed -- was this Queens or Brooklyn? Even now, I can feel the panic in his voice as he tried to tell me what he was seeing. How do we begin to explain and describe something we hardly understood ourselves?

If you've never heard about the massive 9/11 boat lift, please make some time for this piece by our Brittney Davies, Joe Atmonavage and Matt Stanmyre, which manages to capture both the huge scope of the operation and the personal impact of it:

"There were tugboats from Staten Island, fishing vessels from Brooklyn, historic boats, dinner boats, sightseeing boats and more. Countless captains and crews converged on the Hudson to help rescue the thousands of people who were desperate to flee."

We've spent 20 years valorizing "first responders," yet the many ferry boat captains, civilian boat owners and regular folks who participated in our Dunkirk never had their full story told until now.

Twenty years later, even after the countless documentaries and minute-by-minute retellings and movies, we're still learning about that awful day, and how it shaped the people we became after. Ted Sherman looks at a Jersey-based air fighter wing that went from Cold War-era air defense to an always-ready part of the militarized security state that followed. There's more, and I hope you'll check out all of NJ.com's coverage of the 9/11 anniversary.

Also this week, the cleanup from Ida's flooding and tornadoes continues, Rutgers honors its alumni lost on 9/11, the life and death of Michael K. Williams, what to know about the mu variant, and a quick-thinking teacher:

A STILL-UNFOLDING TRAGEDY: The story of the deadly flooding that swamped parts of New Jersey goes on. More victims swept away by flash flood waters have been identified, including two drivers who perished in Hopewell Township.

HONORING THE 37: Rutgers football players will take the field at Syracuse wearing uniforms that honor the 37 university alumni killed in the Sept. 11 attacks. James Kratch has the details, a look and a reminder that current Rutgers coach Greg Schiano was in the first year of his previous stint with the team then.

GONE TOO SOON: The actor Michael K. Williams died last week, far too young at only 54. But in his short, complicated life, he shared so much more than just the acting performances on "The Wire" and "Boardwalk Empire" he'll be remembered for. Don't miss this vintage 2012 interview our Kevin Manahan did with Williams.

MU AND YOU: Don't look now but there's another emerging COVID variant. But as Katherine Rodriguez reports, it's currently a "variant of interest," and not a "variant of concern." So be aware, but not afraid. For now, anyway.

TEACHER TO THE RESCUE: On the first day of school at a middle school in Linden, a minivan left unattended started rolling toward a group of kids. Teacher Valerie Tauriello saw it happening and dashed into the driver's seat just in time. Don't miss the video.

Finally, members of Gen Z got a big shot in the feels when Steve Burns from "Blue's Clues" returned to catch up after almost 20 years. Obviously, it was aimed at the kids who grew up collecting clues with a blue cartoon dog, but for their Gen X parents (OK, me) it felt like the return of an old friend. Thanks, Steve, we all needed that.

P.S.: You'll pry my greasy slice of Mack's Pizza from my cold, dead hands.