story9137.xml
Title
story9137.xml
Source
born-digital
Media Type
story
Date Entered
2003-03-08
911DA Story: Story
It was my last week on the job as a Detective in the Lewes Police Department. I was accepting a new job as the head of the Criminal Investigations Unit in another police department and was completing tasks in preparation for the move. I was on my way to the office when I heard of the
attack on the World Trade Center over my car radio. I contacted two of the patrol officers via police radio to ascertain if they had heard about the attack. The three of us met in the office and turned on the television...mere moments before the second plane hit the towers.
As I watched the towers burning and the people jumping from the towers, a feeling began to grow inside of me and something told me that the towers were going to fall. As a police officer and a volunteer firefighter, I feared for the safety of my colleagues as they rushed into the towers
to help those trapped inside. A short time later, the news station reported the attack on the Pentagon, followed shortly thereafter by the report of a fourth plane that crashed in Pennsylvania. The officers and I stood in disbelief of what was happening. Then, suddenly the first tower gave way and came crashing to the ground. I couldn't believe what I was seeing and I openly wept for my colleagues and the people whose lives were undoubtedly lost. I stood motionless and glued to the television for the next two hours, watching over and over the replay of the second planes hitting the towers and their ultimate collapse.
I forced myself to walk away from the television and went to my office. I turned the radio on so that I could continue to hear the news and tried to focus on my work. I couldn't focus on anything and sat looking out the window. I called my fianc? several times throughout the morning to talk to her and we shared the news as we heard updates. Then, shortly after noon, I heard the Governor of the State of Delaware announcing that a contingent of firefighters, EMS personnel and paramedics from Delaware were being sent to New York City to assist in the search for those who were missing. With out a second thought, I called the firehouse to see who was going from our company. I spoke to the Chief, told him to have the guys grab my bunker gear, and I would meet the firefighters at the scheduled rendezvous point for deployment to New York. I contacted my boss and the City Manager and told them I was going to New York. I had to ask permission to leave my unmarked cruiser in a neighboring jurisdiction where the firefighters were meeting and without hesitation they granted approval and bid me a safe journey.
Prior to leaving the office, I called my fianc? and told her I was going to New York and asked her to pack me a bag with enough clothes to last me four or five days. She started crying and asked me if I was sure I wanted to go. She knew I wanted to be there and, despite her concern,
she never asked me not to go. Finally, I called my new boss and told him that I was heading to New York. I told him that I might not be able to report for my first day on the new job as had been planned. He was extremely supportive and told me it would be waiting for me when I got
back. I met my fianc? thirty minutes later on the way to the rendezvous point. I gave her my service weapons and told her to lock them up at home. She gave me my gear bag, we hugged each other and said a short prayer. She kissed me goodbye and then I was gone. Looking back on it now, I don't know how she managed the drive back home, let alone the wait for my return.
I drove as fast as I safely could to get to the rendezvous point. When I arrived, there were over seventy firefighters, EMS personnel, and paramedics, along with twenty-three ambulances ready to go. Of those making the trip, over 95% of us were volunteers who dropped what we were doing, left our families, and raced to New York to render aid. We drove the entire distance with our emergency lights on, led and followed by Troopers from the Delaware State Police. Along the route, people were waving to us, honking their car horns, and flashing their headlights. Along the way, my mother and my brothers called me on my cell phone; all of them crying. They
wished me well, told me how proud of me they were, and told me to be safe. I thanked them for their thoughts, but told them it had nothing to do with pride. Like so many, I wanted to do something to help and when the opportunity arose, I jumped at the chance without a second thought. Looking back, I suppose I was somewhat selfish to make those decisions without asking my fianc?, but I just had to go! The trip took a little more than four hours; during the ride, I used the time to reflect on what I had witnessed earlier that day and tried to mentally
prepare myself for the physical and emotional challenges that would lie ahead.
When we arrived in New York, we were directed to a staging area to await the arrival of an FBI agent who would take us into Meadowlands Stadium. The stadium was set up as a staging area for responding emergency personnel. We parked along the New Jersey Turnpike awaiting our escort. We climbed out of our ambulances and looked across the Hudson River. The skyline was lit up with a strange glow and we could see smoke billowing from ground zero, drifting
across Manhattan and the river as far as we could see.
We stood there in awe and disbelief.
When the FBI agent arrived, he spoke to the Delaware State Troopers and then escorted our caravan to the entrance of Meadowlands Stadium. When we arrived, there was another waiting period. Then without any word, we were told to regroup, climb back into our vehicles, and turn back South on the turnpike. We thought we were being taken to another location. However, fifteen minutes into the ride, the organizer of our contingent advised everyone via radio that we were not going to be needed and directed us to head back to Delaware. Needless to say, we were dumfounded and there were a lot of unanswered questions. Later, the caravan met at a rest stop on the turnpike where the organizer told us that we had been sent home because the mission had been changed from a rescue to a recovery effort. We were told that they had so many volunteers firefighter and emergency personnel from neighboring jurisdictions and States that they had to start turning people away.
I understood, but I was extremely angry. I wanted to do something, ANYTHING, to feel that we were helping. I would have stayed there for days, even weeks just to help in some way. We offered to help with food preparation and shuttling supplies to the rescuers. But there were so
many people that came out to volunteer, they had to turn people away. I guess in some ways it was good that they had the volunteers, but I was upset that I wouldn't be one of them. I guess in many ways I was being selfish, but it was the only way that I felt I could cope with the
devastation.
It was a very long ride home that night. On the way to New York, there was a lot of talk among us and several of us talked to others over the EMS radio. On the way home however, NOBODY said a word. We rode in silence, listening to the radio for any news updates. I arrived home around
3am, woke my fianc? to tell her I was home, and sat watching the news replay the day's events. I finally fell off to sleep around 7am and slept only for a few hours before being awoken by nightmares. In my mind, I kept seeing the plane hit the tower, people jumping from the building knowing they would not survive, and the towers crumbling. I thought of the people who died on the airplane in Pennsylvania trying to protect others from being harmed or killed. And, I thought of my colleagues, none of whom I knew personally, who died trying to save others.
In the days and months that followed, I gave blood and organized a fund drive to raise monetary donations for the trust fund, but I still felt an emptiness inside. I talked with my friends who are police officers and firefighters and together we all got through it and we became a whole lot closer. On the one year anniversary of 9-11, I drove two hours to a blood bank where the Delaware Fraternal Order of Police had organized a blood drive to benefit the blood bank in New York. Eighty-five police officers came out that day to give blood. Later in the day, I had a tattoo scribed into my arm to remember and honor the fallen heroes of that day. I wanted the tattoo so that every day, when I woke up and got into the shower and every night as I prepared for bed, I'd see it and remember what happened. I'd think of the heroes who gave their lives trying to save others and the loved ones they left behind. I'd commit myself to making a positive influence in the lives of the people I serve, both as a police officer and a firefighter. The tattoo depicts the twin towers as the
number eleven in "9-11-2001". The "9-11-2001" is surrounded by smoke that billows upward. Rising up out of the smoke is a Phoenix and on it's chest are the emblems of the National Law Enforcement Officer's Memorial and the National Fallen Firefighters Memorial. Above the emblems the words, "Honoring Our Nations Heroes" is inscribed. It is a design that I came up with and worked on for several months following 9-11. In addition, I wrote a poem detailing my thoughts and feelings that followed the tragic events of that day.
Little did I know how my life and that of my fianc??s would change. Our son, who is also a volunteer firefighter, is a soldier in the Army and was stationed in Louisiana. Six months after 9-11, he was deployed to Kuwait where he spent nine months in the desert. His unit came home in December and we saw him for five days during this past Christmas. When he returned to base following Christmas, he was unexpectedly re-deployed to Kuwait and is now sitting in
the desert somewhere outside Iraq. We had not spoken to him in three months, but he called and spoke to us for fifteen minutes on the telephone earlier this week. While we were elated to hear from him, we still fear for his safety and his safe return. He told me during the telephone
conversation that he was given a choice to be on the front line or to take a support role further behind the front. He chose to take the front line so his buddies would be safer in the support role. Once again, I find myself wanting to do something, ANYTHING! I'd gladly take his place if they'd let me.
On behalf of my fianc?, the mother of a United States Soldier, our thoughts and prayers continue to go out to the families who lost loved ones on 9-11. And, to those serving in our military, we continue to pray for your safe and expeditious return. God Bless America and it's Heroes!
attack on the World Trade Center over my car radio. I contacted two of the patrol officers via police radio to ascertain if they had heard about the attack. The three of us met in the office and turned on the television...mere moments before the second plane hit the towers.
As I watched the towers burning and the people jumping from the towers, a feeling began to grow inside of me and something told me that the towers were going to fall. As a police officer and a volunteer firefighter, I feared for the safety of my colleagues as they rushed into the towers
to help those trapped inside. A short time later, the news station reported the attack on the Pentagon, followed shortly thereafter by the report of a fourth plane that crashed in Pennsylvania. The officers and I stood in disbelief of what was happening. Then, suddenly the first tower gave way and came crashing to the ground. I couldn't believe what I was seeing and I openly wept for my colleagues and the people whose lives were undoubtedly lost. I stood motionless and glued to the television for the next two hours, watching over and over the replay of the second planes hitting the towers and their ultimate collapse.
I forced myself to walk away from the television and went to my office. I turned the radio on so that I could continue to hear the news and tried to focus on my work. I couldn't focus on anything and sat looking out the window. I called my fianc? several times throughout the morning to talk to her and we shared the news as we heard updates. Then, shortly after noon, I heard the Governor of the State of Delaware announcing that a contingent of firefighters, EMS personnel and paramedics from Delaware were being sent to New York City to assist in the search for those who were missing. With out a second thought, I called the firehouse to see who was going from our company. I spoke to the Chief, told him to have the guys grab my bunker gear, and I would meet the firefighters at the scheduled rendezvous point for deployment to New York. I contacted my boss and the City Manager and told them I was going to New York. I had to ask permission to leave my unmarked cruiser in a neighboring jurisdiction where the firefighters were meeting and without hesitation they granted approval and bid me a safe journey.
Prior to leaving the office, I called my fianc? and told her I was going to New York and asked her to pack me a bag with enough clothes to last me four or five days. She started crying and asked me if I was sure I wanted to go. She knew I wanted to be there and, despite her concern,
she never asked me not to go. Finally, I called my new boss and told him that I was heading to New York. I told him that I might not be able to report for my first day on the new job as had been planned. He was extremely supportive and told me it would be waiting for me when I got
back. I met my fianc? thirty minutes later on the way to the rendezvous point. I gave her my service weapons and told her to lock them up at home. She gave me my gear bag, we hugged each other and said a short prayer. She kissed me goodbye and then I was gone. Looking back on it now, I don't know how she managed the drive back home, let alone the wait for my return.
I drove as fast as I safely could to get to the rendezvous point. When I arrived, there were over seventy firefighters, EMS personnel, and paramedics, along with twenty-three ambulances ready to go. Of those making the trip, over 95% of us were volunteers who dropped what we were doing, left our families, and raced to New York to render aid. We drove the entire distance with our emergency lights on, led and followed by Troopers from the Delaware State Police. Along the route, people were waving to us, honking their car horns, and flashing their headlights. Along the way, my mother and my brothers called me on my cell phone; all of them crying. They
wished me well, told me how proud of me they were, and told me to be safe. I thanked them for their thoughts, but told them it had nothing to do with pride. Like so many, I wanted to do something to help and when the opportunity arose, I jumped at the chance without a second thought. Looking back, I suppose I was somewhat selfish to make those decisions without asking my fianc?, but I just had to go! The trip took a little more than four hours; during the ride, I used the time to reflect on what I had witnessed earlier that day and tried to mentally
prepare myself for the physical and emotional challenges that would lie ahead.
When we arrived in New York, we were directed to a staging area to await the arrival of an FBI agent who would take us into Meadowlands Stadium. The stadium was set up as a staging area for responding emergency personnel. We parked along the New Jersey Turnpike awaiting our escort. We climbed out of our ambulances and looked across the Hudson River. The skyline was lit up with a strange glow and we could see smoke billowing from ground zero, drifting
across Manhattan and the river as far as we could see.
We stood there in awe and disbelief.
When the FBI agent arrived, he spoke to the Delaware State Troopers and then escorted our caravan to the entrance of Meadowlands Stadium. When we arrived, there was another waiting period. Then without any word, we were told to regroup, climb back into our vehicles, and turn back South on the turnpike. We thought we were being taken to another location. However, fifteen minutes into the ride, the organizer of our contingent advised everyone via radio that we were not going to be needed and directed us to head back to Delaware. Needless to say, we were dumfounded and there were a lot of unanswered questions. Later, the caravan met at a rest stop on the turnpike where the organizer told us that we had been sent home because the mission had been changed from a rescue to a recovery effort. We were told that they had so many volunteers firefighter and emergency personnel from neighboring jurisdictions and States that they had to start turning people away.
I understood, but I was extremely angry. I wanted to do something, ANYTHING, to feel that we were helping. I would have stayed there for days, even weeks just to help in some way. We offered to help with food preparation and shuttling supplies to the rescuers. But there were so
many people that came out to volunteer, they had to turn people away. I guess in some ways it was good that they had the volunteers, but I was upset that I wouldn't be one of them. I guess in many ways I was being selfish, but it was the only way that I felt I could cope with the
devastation.
It was a very long ride home that night. On the way to New York, there was a lot of talk among us and several of us talked to others over the EMS radio. On the way home however, NOBODY said a word. We rode in silence, listening to the radio for any news updates. I arrived home around
3am, woke my fianc? to tell her I was home, and sat watching the news replay the day's events. I finally fell off to sleep around 7am and slept only for a few hours before being awoken by nightmares. In my mind, I kept seeing the plane hit the tower, people jumping from the building knowing they would not survive, and the towers crumbling. I thought of the people who died on the airplane in Pennsylvania trying to protect others from being harmed or killed. And, I thought of my colleagues, none of whom I knew personally, who died trying to save others.
In the days and months that followed, I gave blood and organized a fund drive to raise monetary donations for the trust fund, but I still felt an emptiness inside. I talked with my friends who are police officers and firefighters and together we all got through it and we became a whole lot closer. On the one year anniversary of 9-11, I drove two hours to a blood bank where the Delaware Fraternal Order of Police had organized a blood drive to benefit the blood bank in New York. Eighty-five police officers came out that day to give blood. Later in the day, I had a tattoo scribed into my arm to remember and honor the fallen heroes of that day. I wanted the tattoo so that every day, when I woke up and got into the shower and every night as I prepared for bed, I'd see it and remember what happened. I'd think of the heroes who gave their lives trying to save others and the loved ones they left behind. I'd commit myself to making a positive influence in the lives of the people I serve, both as a police officer and a firefighter. The tattoo depicts the twin towers as the
number eleven in "9-11-2001". The "9-11-2001" is surrounded by smoke that billows upward. Rising up out of the smoke is a Phoenix and on it's chest are the emblems of the National Law Enforcement Officer's Memorial and the National Fallen Firefighters Memorial. Above the emblems the words, "Honoring Our Nations Heroes" is inscribed. It is a design that I came up with and worked on for several months following 9-11. In addition, I wrote a poem detailing my thoughts and feelings that followed the tragic events of that day.
Little did I know how my life and that of my fianc??s would change. Our son, who is also a volunteer firefighter, is a soldier in the Army and was stationed in Louisiana. Six months after 9-11, he was deployed to Kuwait where he spent nine months in the desert. His unit came home in December and we saw him for five days during this past Christmas. When he returned to base following Christmas, he was unexpectedly re-deployed to Kuwait and is now sitting in
the desert somewhere outside Iraq. We had not spoken to him in three months, but he called and spoke to us for fifteen minutes on the telephone earlier this week. While we were elated to hear from him, we still fear for his safety and his safe return. He told me during the telephone
conversation that he was given a choice to be on the front line or to take a support role further behind the front. He chose to take the front line so his buddies would be safer in the support role. Once again, I find myself wanting to do something, ANYTHING! I'd gladly take his place if they'd let me.
On behalf of my fianc?, the mother of a United States Soldier, our thoughts and prayers continue to go out to the families who lost loved ones on 9-11. And, to those serving in our military, we continue to pray for your safe and expeditious return. God Bless America and it's Heroes!
Collection
Citation
“story9137.xml,” September 11 Digital Archive, accessed January 9, 2025, https://911digitalarchive.org/items/show/17511.