People may not realize that the top of one of those "twin" towers was the biggest cell phone antenna in the whole city. Or that cell service went out after the 1st plane hit. Imagine that today. We are all so glued to our phones, imagine actually NEEDING THEM because there was a traumatic event going on and you needed help, or were looking for someone you knew, or were trying to tell someone you were OK.
Fifteen years ago on that fateful day my Daddy was called into action.
No he's not a police man, a firefighter, he's not national guard or search and rescue.
He's just an electrician, and he was T-Mobile's go-to guy in NJ/NYC for temporary cell service sites.
You bet your ass he had an important job to get in there and do- restore cell service to the great city as it was in its darkest moments. He went in while people were scrambling to get out.
He had to climb in and on the wreckage surrounding what is now known as "ground zero", and set up temporary cell towers. He says he tried not to think about all the "ash" he was trudging through and touching because then he might not be able to do his job. He tried not to think about how unstable the rest of the buildings around the main two now were because those were the best places to do what he had to do. My father- the man who has anxiety so bad he won't get on an airplane- had to calm his fears for the greater good.
He tried to focus on families trying to reach each other to tell loved ones they were OK.
I will never forget the day: I was a freshman in high school, we had just started back at school. I was in HISTORY class , of all places, when an older student ran in saying a plane had just hit the world trade center. Our teacher took us all over to that classroom and we watched in horror on TV as the building burned, and then another plane appeared and hit the second building. I watched it in real time. there was nothing we could do to stop it- nothing we could do but collectively gasp and even scream. There was panic. Kids in our class had parents and family members who worked in the city. Parents came to pick up their kids- we were sent home around 1pm. My Dad didn't come home that night.
Days turned into weeks turned into months and every one of them I worried about my Dad. The pictures and stories he brought out could never replace the people who didn't come home. But he kept the lines of communication up and running until we all had a better grip on things.
Even the smallest act can play a big part in history. I still have my Dad, but countless dads, uncles, brothers, sisters, aunts, moms, friends, etc etc were lost in this tragedy.... and THAT we- as a nation, as a people, as one big family- will NEVER forget. Here's to not forgetting, here's to the ordinary hero, here's to fighting back when someone attacks our own. GOD BLESS AMERICA
Fifteen years ago on that fateful day my Daddy was called into action.
No he's not a police man, a firefighter, he's not national guard or search and rescue.
He's just an electrician, and he was T-Mobile's go-to guy in NJ/NYC for temporary cell service sites.
You bet your ass he had an important job to get in there and do- restore cell service to the great city as it was in its darkest moments. He went in while people were scrambling to get out.
He had to climb in and on the wreckage surrounding what is now known as "ground zero", and set up temporary cell towers. He says he tried not to think about all the "ash" he was trudging through and touching because then he might not be able to do his job. He tried not to think about how unstable the rest of the buildings around the main two now were because those were the best places to do what he had to do. My father- the man who has anxiety so bad he won't get on an airplane- had to calm his fears for the greater good.
He tried to focus on families trying to reach each other to tell loved ones they were OK.
I will never forget the day: I was a freshman in high school, we had just started back at school. I was in HISTORY class , of all places, when an older student ran in saying a plane had just hit the world trade center. Our teacher took us all over to that classroom and we watched in horror on TV as the building burned, and then another plane appeared and hit the second building. I watched it in real time. there was nothing we could do to stop it- nothing we could do but collectively gasp and even scream. There was panic. Kids in our class had parents and family members who worked in the city. Parents came to pick up their kids- we were sent home around 1pm. My Dad didn't come home that night.
Days turned into weeks turned into months and every one of them I worried about my Dad. The pictures and stories he brought out could never replace the people who didn't come home. But he kept the lines of communication up and running until we all had a better grip on things.
Even the smallest act can play a big part in history. I still have my Dad, but countless dads, uncles, brothers, sisters, aunts, moms, friends, etc etc were lost in this tragedy.... and THAT we- as a nation, as a people, as one big family- will NEVER forget. Here's to not forgetting, here's to the ordinary hero, here's to fighting back when someone attacks our own. GOD BLESS AMERICA
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