Riding With Memory: A Day on Long Island, Honoring Heroes. I set a goal that meant more to me than miles or maps ever could. I wanted to visit over 150 firefighter memorial sites connected to 9/11, and along the way, pay tribute at several K9 memorials too. Not everyone knows this about me, but on that September morning, I was just blocks away when the first plane hit the World Trade Center.

I can still hear the sound—Still feel the shock—Still remember the fear—and the silence that followed.

It’s a moment burned into me, one I’ll never shake. And because of that, for a long time I stayed away. I never visited the 9/11 Memorial when it opened. Not because I didn’t care—because I cared too much. It wasn’t until this past summer that I finally stood there, and I didn’t do it alone. I was with people who had only recently entered my life, but somehow, in that moment, they saw a version of me very few ever do. Raw. Quiet. Unarmored. They may not even know how much that moment meant—but deep inside it mattered.

So when the time came to ride, I knew exactly what I needed to do.

I mapped out a route across Long Island—more than 30 Tour of Honor memorial sites in a single day, with four ferry crossings connecting it all. I put out the invite, hoping a few friends might join. No one could. And that’s okay. This ride wasn’t meant to be an easy one. It wasn’t meant to be casual. It was meant to be felt.

Long Island is beautiful—winding roads through wine country, small towns with flags flying proud, sea air brushing the edge of every breath. But the true beauty was at each firehouse, each memorial, each name etched in stone or steel. I wasn’t just riding to places. I was riding for people.

For the ones who ran toward smoke instead of away. For the K9 partners who worked, searched, comforted, and never questioned why. For the families who still feel that loss, every day.

Thirteen hours later, I stood at the final stop. 32 memorials visited. 32 moments of reflection. 32 reminders that service, sacrifice, and love leave a permanent mark—on our country, on our communities, and on riders like me who carry those stories forward.

I met firefighters who shared memories. I met families still honoring loved ones. I shook hands, left poker chips, offered silent thanks.

That’s the thing about rides like this; They’re measured in meaning.

Because remembering matters.

Because honoring matters.

Because some days… the journey heals what time alone never could.

-MarkyMark