The day we became Americans in our hearts.
We were living in a high rise apartment in NJ, overlooking NYC. My husband was working in a building next to the WTC.
At about 9am, our son called from London, telling me about the plane that flew into the WTC. I ran to the balcony and saw the smoke. I called my husband immediately; he told me he was in the subway underneath the WTC just after it got hit. The subway had to reverse, as it got a warning not to move forward. They got out at the station just before the WTC; he usually got off at the WTC.
He went to his office, not knowing what to do, or what was happening. There was smoke all over. Just then the 1st tower fell; and they were told by police to go inside, as there was too much smoke and dust. It was chaotic; his colleague suffers from asthma and she could barely breath. He stayed inside with her.
Just then all the phone lines went dead, or was too busy. I could not get hold of him any more.
Our son was frantic in London, as was I. I watched the towers fall, saw the billowing smoke and dust. I think I drank about 20 cups of coffee that day. Our family called from South Africa, but I could not tell then any more than what I knew; which was nothing.
It was a very long day for me. My youngest came home from school, we sat watching the news and waiting for a phone call from my husband.
At 9 pm he came home. He got on a bus to the Port Authority, then again to the George Washington Bridge. They then walked over the bridge, a few thousand of them. He was all dusty, stressed and tired. He could not call me as there were no phone lines available.
He lost a few friends who worked in the WTC.
Even now, I am still feeling the stress, shaking as I type.
That day we all became Americans in my heart. For weeks we had candlelight vigils for those who perished.
Please sign my petition and help us keep our son with us.
