story2607.xml

story2607.xml

born-digital

story

yes

no

2002-09-11

The morning of September 11 started out as a typical Tuesday morning. The kids had just been dropped off at school; my husband Daniel was outside working in the yard; and I was in the house. The television was on in the background as the morning chores were being completed. A news reporter broke into the local programming to announce that an airplane had crashed into the World Trade Center. Truly believing it was an accident, that the plane had just taken off and had mechanical problems, I went to get Daniel. We sat there together, watching the news, when the second plane hit. At that moment, Daniel looked at me and said "This is no accident, we are being attacked!" Flipping on our fire department scanner, we heard "Total Recall," a term that had never been heard in my husbands 20-year career as a firefighter. These words were a call for all fire, police and rescue workers to report to duty.

Giving me a kiss along with a "don't worry," Daniel headed out the door with the promise of a phone call to keep me posted. So I sat and waited and waited and then waited some more. Each minute seemed like an eternity. The phone lines weren't working and the cellular lines were jammed, but after an hour, the phone finally rang. It was Daniel, he said that he was going into the city; after pausing a moment, he said "Adele, I need you to get the kids from school. I want them all home with you. Go now! So I asked him, "Daniel, is it bad?" He said "worse than you could ever believe, and Adele, I love you." My heart dropped. Uncontrollable tears began to force themselves down my face and my legs became extreamly weak. My whole body began to shake. I was afraid that I would never speak to my husband again.

My three children and I would wait until midnight of that night to learn of my husbands safety. When a knock came at the door, it would reveal an image of the man we all loved. Covered in dust, almost unrecognizable, the pain in his eyes was evident of all he had witnessed that day. He stayed long enough to give each one of us a hug and kiss and to reassure us that he was not hurt. Still covered in gray dust, he returned to Ground Zero where he would spend the next few days digging through the ruins and debris looking for survivors.

We were lucky that day, we didn't lose the man we loved. But so many did, and for them, we are truly sorry. May God bless you all!