10 years ago, today, I was woken up by my mom, saying "come watch the news!" She had a look I'd never seen before on her face. When i walked in the bedroom and rubbed my eyes, looking at FoxNews, the Fire Technology student in me said "Oh, New York's on fire." So matter-of-factly like i was talking about the Great Chicago Fire, or how San Fran burned after the 1906 quake, or the Great Fire of London. Then the replay. Over and over. First one plane, then the 2nd one, hitting the building and exploding through. It was an explosion that surpassed anything Hollywood special effects could even imagine! The Thick black smoke against a pure blue sky. A blue that the entire US looks at on January 1 as the Rose Parade rolls through Pasadena and North LA. A blue that Southern Californians know ONLY exists after Santa Ana winds roll through blowing out all the smog. A "Catalina Day" or a "Downtown Day", speaking of when you are in the foothills of Orange County and can see IN DETAIL the buildings in downtown LA. A sky so clear, so pure, so innocent. Then the news came from DC, another airliner, this time in the Pentagon. And another, downed in a Pennsylvania field, speculated to be headed to the White House or Capitol. So surreal. A story line movie scriptwriters would have been either scoffed at or paid handsomely for. This was worse than Pearl Harbor. Not one, but 4 coordinated attacks against both military and civilian targets. War had come screeching into the United States at 600 miles an hour, fully loaded with jet fuel.
Responding were the boys in blue. Underpaid, overworked, but dedicated to the death to their job. Cops and firefighters. New York's Finest and Bravest. Men who months prior were criticized for excessive force were being praised for their selfless attitude. Men who people were too busy to pull over so the engine and truck could pass, grasped and reached out as they ascended the stairs, determined to reach the top. They went as far as they could, grabbed whomever and however many they could, and made the long trek down. Some made it out, and went back in for round 2, determined to go the distance or get knocked out trying. These men were warriors, fierce in their attack. They saved who they could and desired to grapple with the beast burning on 6-10 floors. These were bloodthirsty men, craving the taste of Satan's fire and willing to beat him at all costs. Then at 9:59, all hell broke loose. concrete and steel acted like pipe cleaners, bending, twisting, breaking. The fatal ballet was reaching its apex. The tower twisting on itself, spiralling like a giant corkscrew into the basement below. And while that happened, FDNY and NYPD and PAPD STILL ran up the North tower, striving to try and save more lives. 29 minutes later, the WTC basement swallowed up the North tower as well, claiming even more souls. 2,819 lives silenced in the two 12 second collapses. 343 fellow firefighters called home. 23 NYPD officers on final patrol, and 37 PAPD who will never be at roll call.
Support and unity. 2 things never seen since WW2 and the "support the war effort". Stores couldn't keep American flags in stock. Betsy Ross would be proud. The Stars and Stripes, the international symbol of freedom, was back with a vengence. The whole country rallied around their neighborhood firestation. People finally took notice of the emergency vehicles responding to calls. Gone was the image of firemen getting a kitten out of a tree, in was the superhero. Superman couldn't hold a candle to these real life heros. Women loved them, men envied them, kids wanted to be them, still. Many flocked to recruiting stations eager to get some, to get revenge for their country. No draft necessary, the all volunteer military saw unprecedented numbers. And the gloves were off.
Its odd to think that on that day, I was already working to become a firefighter. Seeing those brothers killed in 12 seconds, made me stop. I asked myself "what am i doing? Knowing that death hovered, waiting for me, on every call, is this STILL the life and career i want?" And the answer was a resounding yes. Scratch that. I still remember thinking "FUCK YES!" without a doubt. What happened 10 years ago steeled my reserve and determination. I was not gonna take no for an answer. I would become a firefighter by any means necessary. Its even more surreal to think that 10 years later i'm not a firefighter, but instead have too gone to the recruiter and signed my life on the line, vowing to protect the nation I love and adore, the freedoms most Americans take for granted. I'm fighting alongside some of those same people who joined 10 years ago, and are still pushing back, giving our enemies what for and not going quietly into the night. I may never become a firefighter. My options are open, from working at becoming a flight medic on a MEDEVAC chopper, to taking 2 more years to go off and fight in the 'Stan, to getting out and still becoming a Firefighter. Each day I remember 9-11-01. its interesting, that the number you call when you need help is 9-1-1. You call, I come, I fight, I win.
Hooah, Semper Fi, Fir Na Tine, etc. It all different, but its all the same! Never Forget!
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