This is my big brother. This is the summer after he graduated from Notre Dame and moved to New York to start his career in investment banking. This picture was taken from his apartment and the buildings behind him are where he had just started his first job. He worked in the World Trade Center complex in the building next door to the Towers, but his company had two floors in one of the towers. The building he worked in eventually fell days after 9/11.
Every year on this morning, I am taken back to the sheer panic and fear my family experienced on that horrible day. At first, it was a call that he was being evacuated because one of the towers was on fire. It was a "Hey, Mom you'll see this on the news and no need to worry" type of call. And then all hell broke loose. We heard nothing. For hours.
I was a freshman in college and I remember people in my dorm watching TV talking about what was going on, and I couldn't even talk. I was numb with panic. It wasn't just something horrible that was happening to New York and our nation, it was something horrible that was happening to my big brother. And it had been hours. Where was he?
Finally my parents got a call from my brother that had escaped the horrific events and run with a bunch of strangers to a bar that they were taking refuge in until the attacks were over. He was safe, but forever changed from what he had seen.
Every morning on this day, I thank God that my big brother was spared. I pray for the families that never got that call. And I pray for my sweet brother and all of those who had to live through those moments and who's lives are forever changed.
Thank you, thank you, thank you Lord for protecting my big brother. I am eternally grateful.