I've got a grandson who loves to play "hide and seek." I haven't told him that I'm pretty much onto his favorite places to hide in our house. But he's figured out the best places to become totally invisible when I'm looking for him.

But being invisible isn't always fun. There are people - including someone who told me just this week - who have basically felt invisible their whole lives. You can feel invisible in your family...at school...where you work...even in your marriage. It's awful feeling like no one seems to know - or care - that you're there.

Prozac. Maybe that's what I need before I watch the news again. Because I know I'm going to be hit with stories and numbers that just quantify a lot of hurt in a lot of lives right now...jobs lost...homes lost...loved ones lost...record numbers living in poverty...struggling families...devastating disasters...and always, always, people dying.

No living Marine has received the Congressional Medal of Honor for actions in the wars in Afghanistan and Iraq. Until last week. Dakota Meyer's only 23, but he has been awarded this nation's highest military honor. For saving 36 lives during a vicious, six-hour firefight in the mountains of Afghanistan.

It started with an enemy ambush that quickly pinned down much of Meyer's unit. Amazingly, this Kentucky farmboy made a total of five trips into the kill zone to rescue his comrades. And he had to disobey orders to do it. His superiors told him he couldn't go in. He went in anyway. Because people would die if he didn't.

A friend called that morning and said, "You should turn on the TV. An airplane just hit one of the World Trade Center towers." There was no file folder in my heart for what I was about to see. I quickly found a news channel. From that moment on, I didn't turn it off.

My wife and I - recently relocated after years in the New York area, friends with so many who work in Manhattan, occasional visitors to the observation deck atop the Trade Center - watched one horrific event after another unfold before our eyes. And when the towers collapsed in that killer cloud of dust, we couldn't contain the tears. Neither could the TV reporters who, for those gut-wrenching moments, lost their journalist's detachment and melted with all of us into stunned shock and disbelief.

As Hurricane Irene took aim on the Outer Banks of North Carolina, I flashed back to an old white frame building there. And to the story I heard there that has followed me ever since.

Our family vacation took us to those beautiful Hatteras beaches - and to the Chicamacomico Life-Saving Station. That's where I heard about - and saw demonstrated by re-enactors - the heroism of the United States Life-Saving Service.

I keep thinking they're talking about my grandmother storming up the East Coast. But it's a hurricane by the same name. Irene. And I know what that name means - it literally means peace. How ironic. A hurricane named peace.

It wasn't just another day with the family at the beach. The lifeguards at Ocean City, N.J. made everyone get out of the water - fast! I was thinking "Jaws" - so I was very cooperative. Instead, it was all about two children who they had to plunge in and rescue.

Wow, talk about so near and yet so far. Poor Desmond Bishop. He missed what could be a once-in-a-lifetime opportunity - to go to the White House and meet the President of the United States!

My children love roller coasters. They didn't get it from me. When my dad took me on the big "thrills and chills" coaster at our city amusement park, I needed counseling for years to come!

Of course, you don't have to buy a ticket these days to get a wild ride. Just invest in the stock market. Talk about ups and downs! And Wall Street's wild rides are only a mirror of a world that seems to be off-the-charts financially. Questions about America's credit rating aren't helping - especially when our future rating may depend on how well Washington budget negotiations go in the next few months. Hang on tight.

I thought I might have to live to 100 to see the widening of a major highway in our area ever finished. It took years to finally get it done, but now the trip north is a breeze.

I know why it took so long. Mountains. Yup, they were trying to put a road where there were hills and mountains. Those don't move easily - after all, they've been there for a long time. But they did move. Because even a mountain was no match for explosives like dynamite.