Decision Points

seated woman. I sat down next to the woman, who told me her name was Arlene Howard . Her son was a Port Authority police officer who’d had September 11 off but volunteered to help as soon as he heard about the attacks. He had last been seen rushing into the dust and smoke three days earlier.

    With Arlene Howard.
White House/Eric Draper
    As I was getting ready to say goodbye, Arlene reached into her purse and held out her hand. It contained a metal object. “This is my son’s badge. His name is George Howard. Please remember him,” she said as she pressed the badge into my hand. I promised I would.

    George Howard's badge. I still carry it today.
White House/Eric Draper

    I served 2,685 days as president after Arlene gave me that badge. I kept it with me every one of them. As the years passed, most Americans returned to life as usual. That was natural and desirable.
    It meant the country was healing and people felt safer. As I record these thoughts, that day of fire is a distant memory for some of our citizens. The youngest Americans have no firsthand knowledge of the day. Eventually, September 11 will come to feel more like Pearl Harbor Day—an honored date on the calendar and an important moment in history, but not a scar on the heart, not a reason to fight on.
    For me, the week of September 11 will always be something more. I still see the Pentagon smoldering, the towers in flames, and that pile of twisted steel. I still hear the voices of the loved ones searching for survivors and the workers yelling, “Do not let me down!” and “Whatever it takes!” I still feel the sadness of the children, the agony of the burn victims, and the torment of the broken families. I still marvel at the braveryof the firefighters, and the compassion of strangers, and the matchless courage of the passengers who forced down that plane.
    September 11 redefined sacrifice. It redefined duty. And it redefined my job. The story of that week is the key to understanding my presidency. There were so many decisions that followed, many of them controversial and complex. Yet after 9/11, I felt my responsibility was clear. For as long as I held office, I could never forget what happened to America that day. I would pour my heart and soul into protecting the country, whatever it took.
    * The source of the reporting, a foreign intelligence service, remains classified.

n October 17, 2001, I boarded Air Force One for my first trip out of the country since 9/11. We were headed to Shanghai for the Asia Pacific Economic Cooperation summit , a gathering of twenty-one leaders from Pacific Rim nations. The Secret Service was anxious about the trip. For weeks, we had received chilling intelligence reports about potential follow-up attacks. Yet strengthening America’s relationships in the Far East was one of my top priorities, and I wanted my fellow world leaders to see firsthand my determination to battle the terrorists.
    As Air Force One touched down at the Shanghai airport, I thought back to the dusty, bicycle-filled city I had visited with Mother in 1975. This time we made the forty-five-minute drive to downtown Shanghai on a modern highway. We sped past a sparkling new section of the city called Pudong. I later learned the government had moved roughly one hundred thousand people off the land to enable the construction. The skyscrapers and neon lights reminded me of Las Vegas. For Shanghai, the Great Leap Forward had finally arrived.
    The next morning, I squeezed into a blue tent at the Ritz-Carlton with Colin Powell , Condi Rice, Andy Card , and the CIA briefer. The structure was designed to protect the national security briefing from potential eavesdroppers. We turned on a video monitor and Dick Cheney ’s face popped up from New York City. He was wearing white tie and tails for his speech at the Alfred E. Smith Memorial Foundation Dinner, an annual charity event organized by the Catholic archdiocese.
    As soon as I saw Dick, I could tell something was wrong. His face was as white as his tie.
    “Mr. President,” he said, “one of the bio-detectors went off at the WhiteHouse. They found traces of botulinum toxin. The chances are we’ve all been exposed.”
    The CIA had briefed me on botulinum toxin. It was one of the world’s most poisonous substances. Nobody said a word. Finally, Colin asked, “What’s the time of exposure?” Was he doing the mental math, trying to figure out how long it had been since he was last in the White