Work Text:
Another Anniversary
by Hawk
Another anniversary of a day I'd rather forget ever happened. Pretty selfish of me, I know, but it simply hurts too much to remember. You see, we're pretty close to the City here, even as I like to tell my friends that I live in the 'sticks'. It's a half-hour to any store other than the local I.G.A. where I can pick up a few groceries, and the local pharmacy where I can get a prescription filled Monday through Saturday nine to five. You're damned unlucky if you happen to get sick and it's not bankers' hours, but I digress.
I remember that day. It was five years ago, but I can remember it like it was yesterday.
***
"An awful accident," people were whispering in the halls as I bustled about my morning. And, "have you seen?"
It wasn't until I walked into the cardiology waiting room that I saw the news. An airplane had crashed into the World Trade Center. I could see smoke billowing out of the windows high up and something crawled up my spine as I watched. And then, suddenly, right there on the screen was another plane. I could see it heading toward the other tower and wanted to scream. When it hit there wasn't a sound in the whole room. It was as if we were all holding our breath.
Without a word, I left, walking quickly back to my own department where I knew I would need to show a strong face to those who depended on me to keep things together and running smoothly.
It was as I feared. Half my crew was at breakfast and, once the awful event was televised, they couldn't tear themselves away from the screen and I hadn't the heart to send them back to work.
We crowded into the lounge and stared up at the events unfolding. I gasped when the first tower fell; seeing it happen as if in slow motion.
"It fell," I said, without realizing I'd spoken.
People scoffed. How could that possibly be? The towers could never fall. But as the dust started to clear a little, it was obvious there was only one tower still standing. I looked away guiltily, as if by my voicing the horror it made it more real.
No one moved for the longest time, but not all of us could stand to watch either. I think I lost faith in the news media that day and there are some stations I will never watch again. The sight of the people hanging from the windows above the billowing smoke - trapped. Trapped until they fell or, in some cases, jumped. The sight of their bodies falling that great distance sickened me, but I stayed. We all did, even after the second tower fell. We stayed and mourned.
As close as we are to the City, it surprised me that I was the only person in my department to start making phone calls. It took hours, but I persevered.
It was with great relief that I heard that our physician's son was okay. He'd watched from his window as the planes hit - close enough to reach out and touch, it seemed.
My youngest daughter's godfather was in the city that day, but had a meeting across town and was away from the danger. It took him eight hours to get home. Streets were impassible, roads were closed, trains were not running. He finally hitched a ride with someone his co-worker told him was heading north - and he got out of the city.
Another friend was in the city on business also. She saw the planes fly overhead and when all hell broke loose she and her group headed out of the city. It still took them three hours just to clear the city limits - eight to get home, where she collapsed in hysterics and refused to leave her house for a week.
The restaurant at the top of the tower was gone. My neighbor worked there sometimes, but this morning he was on location with a film crew. The only one to survive; all of his friends - dead. I thanked God for him not being there - for letting him watch his children grow up, even as I mourned for the people I knew from the barbeques at his house. Gone - all gone.
Phone call after phone call - and they were all okay. Right up until my last call. When Cindy answered the phone I knew. He was missing.
I tried to stay positive, but we knew he was at the scene - and she hadn't heard from him yet. We talked for a few minutes but she needed to keep her phone line open so I hung up after getting her to promise to call me. I knew she would forget so I told myself I would make the call.
As it turned out, I didn't have to. He was gone.
All Randy had ever wanted, since he was a little boy, was to be a fire fighter in New York City. He'd studied, trained and, finally passed all the tests. It was his proudest day when he got his first uniform.
When the tones sounded that morning, I'm sure he led the rush to the trucks. I can see him holding on tightly as the truck rushed to the scene.
He was in Tower One when it collapsed. He had already escorted two groups of people out of danger and had gone back in for the third time when it fell.
***
As much as I hate this day - hate the fact that it has made us take a close look at the terrorism that was always 'someone else's problem', I hate it even more for taking away so much good.
So I got up today, dressed in my suit as if I was going to work, and got in my car. It's a long drive and I took the opportunity to reflect on Randy's life - to remember all the fun times we'd had together. When I pulled up, I was glad that I was alone, for now. No other cars were parked close by and I got out and smoothed the wrinkles from my clothes before reaching into the backseat and picking up the bundle lying there.
The dew glistened against the toes of my dress shoes as I picked my way through the grass, stopping in front of the shiny gray stone. I smiled sadly as I squatted down to lay the flowers in front of the headstone. Running my hand over the words, I felt the beginnings of the tears that always came on these days.
The stone is a real work of art and I caressed it lovingly, as if just possibly, Randy would know I was visiting if I deigned to touch. On its face, a fireman's hat is lovingly cradled by an angel. The words are simple. Fire Fighter, Husband, Father, Friend. Under that is his name - and it takes my breath away each time I see it, as if it is only here that I really can believe he is gone. Under the ornate name are two numbers. 1972 - 2001
I brushed the tears from my face as I stood. "Good-bye Randy," I said as I turned to make my way back to my car. As I looked up I saw I had company. Cindy was picking her way across the grass. She saw me and waved. I waited - dreading the meeting until she was standing in front of me and I opened my arms. We hugged tearily and then began to talk as if we'd seen each other yesterday instead of months ago.
This was Randy's day and it was for him we were here. As the sun beamed down on us, we began to reminisce and, for a few hours, Randy stood at our sides and smiled.
END