I was on my first day of a two week vacation. I was single, living alone, and had gotten up that morning to decide where I was going to go on my vacay.
Another cop called me and said to turn on the TV. I was sure we had been attacked the second I saw the building. A B-25 once hit the Empire State Building back in the 1940s but that was in a fog, and that kind of thing just doesn't happen accidentally, especially with large aircraft. Then the second plane hit and that sealed it.
The brother of the drummer in our band was NYPD and I contacted him to see if they needed help the next day. He said a bunch of guys were coming up, and he had met a couple from Metro Dade. He said they were putting guys to work, so to come on up. I gave my LT a courtesy call to let her know I was volunteering, got in touch with my aunt who lives in Greenwich Village so I'd have a place to lay my head, and then loaded up the truck. Then I touched base with my NYPD buddy who said that they were now swamped with cops from all over, and specialized rescue teams were taking care of the pile, so I might want to just stay home and enjoy my vacation. He also said that everywhere within 5 blocks of the pile smelled like DOA.
I know at least 3 people who were at the pile who now have cancer. My classmate who was our Regimental Commander at The Citadel is one of them.
If not for 9/11, there would not have been a GWOT. I would not have volunteered to go to Iraq, I would not have gotten acquainted with the State Dept while I was there. I also likely would not have met my wife. It's strange how things happen.
"You however, are an insufferable ankle biting mental chihuahua..." - Clizzoris