Hours of Anguish

September 11th 2001

          “Chris, mother said from the dining room.  “You’ll be late for school!  ”

          “I’ll be down in a second.  ” I rushed down the stairs and darted straight to the dining room where I found mom at the head of the table.  “Bye.  ” I dashed out the door before my mom could answer.  I walked onto the bus and stared out the window breathing in the fresh air and feeling the warm breeze of New York City.  I thought about my dad in the World Trade Center working from 6:00 a.m. to 8:30 p.m. every day, even weekends.  I have to admit, I felt bad.  I barely ever saw him and when I did, he would be working at his desk with a mound of papers on top, waiting patiently to be read or written on.

          I heard the bus door open as the children scurried out on to the front lawn of the school.  It was a sunny Tuesday morning. I was ready for a new school day filled with 5th grade learning.  It was 9:01 a.m. and an ordinary day at that, until … “Sorry for the interruption, but our school’s staff and students will need to go home early due to a horrific tragedy nearby.  ” The loud speaker turned off and everyone began to panic.  My attention was immediately brought to the fact that my father too, must’ve been evacuated if this occurrence was as nearby and appalling as they said.  I walked out of the school at a faster pace than usual.  I had to walk about four blocks before arriving at my house.  There were cars almost on the sidewalk as parents rushed out of them to get their children.  This didn’t exactly help to calm my nerves.  I walked up to the closest payphone with great urgency and then frantically searched my pockets for twenty- five cents.  The twenty-five cents that would tell me if my dad was okay and the twenty- five cents that would tell me if my mom was aware of what had happened.

          I nervously phoned my dad; no answer.  At that moment, I heard a big bang and a cloud of smoke rise into the air as people screamed and ambulances whined.  A cold chill went down my spine.  Drops of water ran down my cheeks.  I was unsure of whether they were beads of sweat caused by the heat that radiated off the burning building in the distance or silent sobs. I called my mom. There was one ring after another, after another. Butterflies chased each other and hit the walls of stomach violently, until I heard a reassuring yet nervous voice on the other line.

          “Hello,” mom said “who is this?  ”

          “It’s me, mom, I got out of school early because there was an incident nearby and I don’t know what to do.  ”

          “Chris?  ” mom stated quizzically.

          “Yeah.  ”

          “Go home, I’ll be there soon.  ”

          “Okay, bye.  ” I sprinted as fast as I could, towards the sound I heard, passing nerve-wracked people, when finally I arrived and stopped dead in my tracks. Workers rushed out of the building doors with a shocked face.  Ambulances parked in strange angles, fire fighters bringing people to safety, policemen keeping citizens away from danger.  The people were ubiquitous running around as they searched for a safe haven.  The superfluous rubble fell next to me and was everywhere.  Suddenly, out of nowhere all hearing went away.  All I heard were faint screams and alarming sirens.  People lay down on stretchers as they were carried into ambulances.  They lay there completely vulnerable, completely unaware of what was happening. Their faces expressionless but somehow showing that they wished they hadn’t gone to work today.

          “Move back, go home.  ” A police officer said apprehensively.

          “Oh, okay,” At that point in time, everything rushed back a new realization.  I stepped back and turned around.  I coughed because of the thick layer of dust and debris that drifted throughout the air.  I just couldn’t stop thinking of my father.  Would he be alright?  Would he be there to greet mom and I today?  I ran home and stepped foot onto our front lawn and trudged up the three steps before arriving to the front door.  I grabbed a hold of the knob and turned it after inserting the key.  I sat on the sofa with my eyes glued to the TV.  I turned the news channel on and immediately saw a live video of what was happening.  The fire, the people, the planes. Planes?  What did the planes have to do with this?  There was a gaping hole on the side of the World Trade Center to answer my question.  Why would someone do this?  Was it on purpose?  If so, what would it prove?  I had a number of questions.  I kept watching, hoping that they would all be answered.  The Live video then showed a plane that flew across the screen and slammed into the World Trades Center.  Ten minutes passed, I was awestruck by what had happened.   I stared and stared without blinking until my eyes burned.  Just before I blinked, one of the World trade center buildings collapsed, right before my eyes.  I sank to my knees and wailed.  Cried until the very last tear had fallen and plunged to the ground with a silent thud.

          A while later, I heard a key being inserted into the door.  Hoping it was dad or mom.  The door was pushed open and I spotted mom’s coat.

          “Mom?  ”

          “Chris?  ” a peppy yet devastated voice called.

          “Yeah, it’s me.  I’ve been sitting here watching the news.”

          “It’s just terrible, isn’t it?  ”

          “Yup.  ” We heard coughing and hacking coming from outside.  The ruffling of keys sounded as the door knob twisted back and forth.  I hurried over to the door, slowly unlocked it and turned the knob 360 degrees while pulling back with a great force. 

          “Dad?  ” I asked. He was covered in a thick layer of dust and tiny remnants from what-used-to-be the World Trade Center.  He walked in a limp with a cringing face showing that he was clearly in pain, but nothing compared to others.  We asked him a few questions and brought him to the crowded hospital where families patiently waited for the results of their loved ones.  Fortunately, dad was working on the third floor and was able to make his way out of the building without any major problems.  Others weren’t as fortunate and passed away in this terrible catastrophe.  He walked out of the hospital with only minor cuts and bruises.  We made our way into the car and he told us the whole story, from beginning to end.  During the conversation he said, “8 o’clock, 9 o’clock and 10 o’clock were three true hours of anguish.  ”

          Months after the hospital visit he was diagnosed with an awful sickness. He was at his yearly check up when he was given the bad news. He told us that same day.

          “I have to tell you guys something.  ” dad stated anxiously.

          “About what?” mom questioned.

          “The results from the doctor.  ”

          “What were the results?  ” I inquired as I entered the conversation.  Hoping that it was just a temporary sickness, I repeated.  “What were the results?” demandingly this time.

          “The doctor diagnosed me with a long term sickness by the name of Sarcoidosis, which is the inflammation of the lungs, eyes and heart.  I have it in my lungs due to the smoke, dust and debris from the edifice.  He said that I could get over it, although it might take a while.  ” My mom and I lamented.  Mom rested her head on his shoulder. I sat their thinking back to when I couldn’t bear the possible occurrence of never hearing his voice again.  At least he’s here with us.   He may not be fully healthy, but at least he’s with us now.