Katie Couric The Best Advice I Ever Got, Part 25

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I love my job and still marvel at my good fortune. I've been given amazing assignments and reported from some extraordinary places: the beaches of Normandy, the hills of Barcelona, the plains of Zimbabwe. I've witnessed, firsthand, unimaginable suffering in places like Haiti after the earthquake and war-torn Iraq and Afghanistan. I've gone down a bobsled run at close to a hundred miles an hour, been given a tour of the Reagan Library by Nancy Reagan herself. I've visited Number 10 Downing Street with Tony Blair and later Gordon Brown. I've flown to Petra in a helicopter piloted by the king of Jordan – a helicopter given to him by the sultan of Brunei. “Hey, it's good to be king.”
    There are also stories that serve as a constant reminder of the enormous responsibility that comes with this job. For me, and for many reporters, covering September 11 was the most challenging assignment of my career. As a single mother, I was worried about my girls. During a commercial break, I called my parents, who live not far from the Pentagon, and told them to go down to the basement. My heart broke every time I talked to someone who was desperatly searching for a fiance, a sister, a father. That story – that day – will be seared into my memory forever.