when I was three. I came home from school

..beyond the deaths and the funerals, the dust and blood were great people. I learned what it was to be a life saver. I learned why it hurts to be called a hero, what a face of a mother or a wife, a husband or a father looks like when you return their family to them. I saw conditions like fear and exhaustion vanish beneath the need to leave no one behind. I can never fully explain to those who didn't live in that city, or dig in that pit or hide in that dust what that day and those beyond it mean to me. It may not have been the best day for humanity but it was the day when the best in humanity came out for it's self.

I didn't know there was school for three-year-olds.

Do you remember the name of yours?

I should write of my the day my children were born. I should be writing about my wedding, the day I fell in love or the day I sent in my COS Membership Registration ( last week ) but I can't.
I am a Firefighter. I am great at what I do. In recognition, I was able to garner a ride-along with FDNY Ladder 21, Engine 34 440 West 38th Street, Hell's Kitchen. This was a great honor for me, to be able to ride with the "Big boys" "The Pride of Midtown". I would be spending several days riding and fighting fire along side some of the best firefighters and paramedics in the world.
I had been up early riding with the medics. We had a cardiac arrest on west 40th, a hand laceration and a stabbing. We had returned to the station house and it was the normal firehouse camaraderie seen in any house in any city. Some played a board game, some played pool, some watched TV listened to Stern. The tone sounded. It was September 11, 2001 and the report was a small twin engine commuter plane had hit WTC 1. En route it changed to a jumbo liner. The smoke was evident. We arrived and were fully inside WTC 1 when WTC 2 or South Tower was hit.
No one can describe what I saw that day. I myself only remember in snippets of sight and sound, scent and touch, confusion and sadness. I assisted S.A.R. crew in to WTC 1 ( North Tower ) We made it to the 10th floor and decided to work down. The pouring of people from the upper floors was tremendous and were were ordered to stage on the 12th floor and assist with the lower floors evac.
We each collected a group of people and began to lead them down the stairs to the lobby and outside to medical staging. On the 6th floor landing, a pregnant woman had been knocked aside and my self and my partner picked her up. She was having contractions ( brought on by the stress) and we carried her down the last 5 floors. We packaged her for transport and I was ready to return to WTC1 when the Paramedic I was shadowing said to stay on board since I made initial contact with the patient.
He went back inside. I went with the ambulance to the hospital ER. We saw the cloud. You could feel the rumble.
I saw death with every look, but death failed to define that day.
So, how did I find goodness in these memories? Well, beyond the deaths and the funerals, the dust and blood were great people. I learned what it was to be a life saver. I learned why it hurts to be called a hero, what a face of a mother or a wife, a husband or a father looks like when you return their family to them. I saw conditions like fear and exhaustion vanish beneath the need to leave no one behind. I can never fully explain to those who didn't live in that city, or dig in that pit or hide in that dust what that day and those beyond it mean to me. It may not have been the best day for humanity but it was the day when the best in humanity came out for it's self.