In recognition of Patriot Day, I decided to get up early this morning and go the U.S. Olympic Training Center in Colorado Springs, Colo. for the 6:00 a.m. lighting of the Olympic flame.    The Olympic flame means very much to me. I have been to four Olympic Games and seen the flame in many forms: in torch relays, at Opening and Closing Ceremonies, burning brightly during each day of the Games. To me, the flame symbolizes life, something I felt was very appropriate on the one-year anniversary of the September 11 attacks.    As I pulled into the Training Center a little bit early, I had to show the gate guard my Olympic ID, a reminder of the security needs in a changed America. I parked my car and walked around the Training Center. It was dark, cold, wet and silent. It did not take long to realize that I was the only person there. I counted the 42 stairs to the Olympic cauldron which sits on the roof of the USOTC Visitor Center. I started writing my article about the day in my head.     I tried to take a few photos, but it was too dark to get an image. I thought of my day on September 11 one year ago. I went to the airport early to purchase a ticket for a relative to care for a sick family member while I attended the World Wrestling Championships in New York City a few weeks away. As I drove to the USA Wrestling office, my wife Pat called me on my cell phone to tell me a plane had crashed into the World Trade Center. I flipped the car radio dial until I found a station that gave me more details. By the time I got to work, I knew about the unfolding tragedy.    That day was a blur. The first issue was a sense of fear concerning my brother Jim, who works on Wall Street and takes the train from New Jersey into the World Trade Center every day. For a number of hours, nobody knew where he was. It was a great relief when my mother called to say he had finally contacted his wife to let her know he was OK. Later that day, I heard the chilling story of how he watched the second tower fall and his long walk to safety.     We quickly heard that the USA Wrestling New York State Chairperson, Ed Gould, was at work in the Trade Center when a plane struck his tower, and how he was able to climb the stairs to safety. The media soon called, seeking any sports-related story about the tragedy, and we helped set up some interviews with the Goulds. Quickly, we needed to begin the serious discussions about what to do about the World Championships at Madison Square Garden, ready to start just a few days away. It was a very long day.    About five minutes before six o'clock, I noticed a truck pull up to the building. A man started unloading some tools from the truck. Curious, I went down the steps to speak with him. His name was Gale, at least that is what it said on his overalls. He had received a call last night that the Olympic flame would not light, and that he needed to work on it this morning. The cauldron had been lit only once since the Winter Olympics. The recent heavy rains, much needed during the Colorado drought, had soaked the system and it would not spark when the switch was flipped.     Armed with a ladder, a flashlight, a sledgehammer and a pocket knife, Gale went to work on the cauldron. Soon thereafter, another employee named Phil came up the stairs and began to help Gale with his efforts. I tried to take a photo of Gale working on the cauldron, but it was too dark, even with the flash. After another attempt to flip the switch, Gale told Phil that they would have to light the cauldron "the old-fashioned way." At 6:08, Gale told Phil to "try it." Gale asked Phil to turn on the gas, and while standing on the ladder, Gale used a blowtorch to put a flame into the cauldron.    At first, the flame was very small and hard to see. However, quickly the flame grew, until it filled the entire cauldron. The darkness had turned to a bright, active light. Although a few minutes late, the Olympic flame was alive to honor those lost on September 11.    I asked Gale if he was the "torch expert" for the Training Center. He said that nobody was an expert, as the equipment was so unique and special. His job was mostly with heating and air-conditioning, but working on the flame was among his duties.    To me, it seemed right that on September 11 a few working men were called make things work and light the flame. It reminded me that there were no gas-powered gadgets to light the flame at the ancient Olympics and many of the modern Olympics. Somebody had to do it the old-fashioned way. According to Gale, "we were bound and determined to get it lit."    At 6:19 a.m., the Training Center seemed back to business. Two athletes, a man and a woman, ran side-by-side for an early morning training jog. The sun was just starting to light the day. Cars began coming into the facility for another day of work.    I know that there will be a special moment of silence and balloon release ceremony at the Training Center later this morning, and that this evening there will be a candle-light memorial program. I will not need to attend those functions. I had my own special moment during a very private torch-lighting ceremony.    As I drove away from the Olympic Training Center, I thought of where I will be scheduled to be a year from now, on the second anniversary of the 9/11 tragedy. I will be in Madison Square Garden in New York City, at the 2003 World Freestyle Wrestling Championships. The 2001 event had been postponed and moved, and the United States has been given a second chance to host the tournament. I will be celebrating life and sport with people from all across the world on September 11 next year. That too seems very appropriate to me.