25 Years Later: The Day I Couldn't Get Home
Twenty-five years ago this morning, I went to work in New York City. I had been expected downtown that day but chose to work in Midtown instead.
My son Joshua was only 11 weeks old.
After the towers fell, cell service was almost nonexistent. I managed to reach my brother John once. What followed was an eight-hour journey trying to find a way out of Manhattan and back to my family.
Eventually I made my way to Chelsea and onto a ferry across the Hudson. There are things I saw, smelled and felt that day that have never completely left me.
But one image remains just as vivid: finally reaching New Brunswick and seeing my mother-in-law running toward me — and then my wife and our tiny son.
I got to go home that day.
Thousands of people did not.
Today I remember them. I remember the families who waited for someone who never came home. I remember the first responders and ordinary people who helped complete strangers. And I remember how quickly an ordinary September morning changed so many lives forever.
Twenty-five years later, I haven’t forgotten.
#September11 #NeverForget #September11th #911Remembrance #LightHeals
