There are days in our lives that shall remain burned in our memories. 

September 11, 2001, is certainly one of those days, and for me there is another date that has become part of that memory: September 7.

On that Friday in 2001, I was in New York City meeting with a hotel company about an initiative to improve the guest experience at its hotels around the world. I was a partner in an international hospitality consulting firm and had recently returned to the United States after spending 10 years working in hotels in Asia.

I had been to the World Trade Center many times. American Express' travel division was in the North Tower and at 3 World Financial Center, and I have many fond memories of working with the American Express travel agents who booked guests into the hotels where I worked.

After my meeting, I boarded a train back to New England. As the train pulled away from the station, I did what I had done many times before — I looked back at the World Trade Center towers.

To me, the towers represented American strength. They were a symbol of American businesses reaching around the world and connecting people from different countries and cultures.

Four days later, that symbol was gone.

On Tuesday morning, September 11, I was in a meeting with our community's convention and visitor bureau when we were told that a plane had flown into the World Trade Center. Like every American, I watched in disbelief as the events of that day unfolded.

We all have our own September 11 stories.

Some of you may have been on an airplane that suddenly had to land somewhere other than its destination. Some Americans found themselves in Canada, where ordinary Canadians opened their homes to people they had never met.

When I think about September 11, one of the things I remember most is not only the tragedy. I remember how we responded to it. We came together.

My father was a World War II Pacific Theatre veteran. He told me that Pearl Harbor was to his generation what September 11 would be to mine. He remembered how Americans came together after Pearl Harbor, and he hoped that my generation would someday experience that same sense of unity. And we did.

For a while, the labels we so often use to describe ourselves — Republican or Democrat, Christian, Jew or Muslim, Black or white — seemed much less important.

We were Americans. More importantly, we were human beings who were hurting together.

We didn't agree on everything then. We don't agree on everything today. That's part of being a democracy and part of being a community. And there is an important difference between disagreeing with someone and making them an adversary. That distinction seems particularly important today.

Turn on the television, open social media or listen to the political conversation around us and it can sometimes feel as though disagreement has become a reason to attack rather than an opportunity to understand.

I don't believe that is who we have to be.

In business, we understand the value of collaboration. Few successful businesses are built by working against everyone else. We build relationships with customers, employees, vendors, competitors and community partners because we understand that we are stronger when we work together.

The same is true of our community. Fredericksburg and Gillespie County are successful because people are willing to roll up their sleeves and work together. Our businesses depend on one another. Our nonprofits depend on volunteers and donors. Our community organizations depend on partnerships.

We don't have to agree on every issue to recognize that we share something much more important: this is our community.

So perhaps as we remember September 11 this year, we should remember more than what happened that terrible day. Let's also remember what happened afterward.

People helped strangers.

Neighbors helped neighbors.

Communities came together.

Americans remembered that before we are Republicans or Democrats, conservatives or liberals, or any other label we choose to carry, we are human beings first.

The next time we disagree with someone, perhaps we can take a moment before responding and ask a simple question:

Why does this person see things differently than I do?

We may still disagree, and we might understand each other a little better. In a world that sometimes seems determined to divide us, choosing to understand rather than attack may be one of the most meaningful ways we can honor those we lost 25 years ago.

We are stronger together. That was true on September 11, 2001. It remains true today.