On September 11, 2001, I gave my dad a hug and a kiss before I went to school - just like I did every day. In a matter of an hour, a plane had hit the North Tower. Dad and his fellow officers were immediately called to respond. He ran into my school and kissed my mom goodbye. As a first responder, my dad would have never guessed what he’d be facing that day - never in a million years. For three days, we didn’t know where he was. We assumed the worst. 8 year old Taylor cried her eyes out for three days. The worst pain? I didn’t get to say goodbye. I didn’t get to tell him how much I loved him.
Three days later, I was still crying. It was nighttime. I was laying in bed, clutching my rosary beads, and praying for my best friend to come home. I prayed that I could see his face again, and that brief 9/11 morning would not be the last one that I spent with him. Suddenly, it happened. Like something out of a movie - I heard the keys in the door. I ran into the kitchen and watched my hero walk through the door. His uniform was full of soot, debris, and God knows what else. I don't think in my whole life, I was happier to see my dad. He dropped to his knees and I ran into his arms. All I remember is crying for the rest of the night. I never wanted to let him go again.
In addition to my dad, his fellow first responders, and the rest of America - I was traumatized from 9/11. After he came home, I immediately developed separation anxiety, especially when he left for work. I was so scared, thinking that something else would happen and he wouldn’t come home. I had a difficult time letting him leave. Even as I got older and more time had passed, the feeling never left. It seemed as if I held my breath every time he left for work, and I exhaled every time he returned. That all came to an end when he retired from the NYPD after 23 years of protecting and serving the citizens of New York City. To this day, I am still working through the trauma of that day 24 years ago. The night my dad came home, I knew that I had received the greatest blessing - I was fortunate enough to watch my dad walk through the door. Some kids weren’t as lucky as I was.
This man is a hero. He is MY hero. He is one of the main reasons why I am the person I am today. Dad, words cannot describe how much I love you and how grateful I am for you. I am beyond proud to call you my father. I’ll always be grateful because I know that that day, you had a guardian angel standing at your side. I sobbed as I stood underneath Michael the Archangel in Italy, because I know he tucked you right underneath his wings that day. I prayed to him when we didn’t know where you were, because I knew he was the patron saint of Police Officers. I knew he’d be the one to keep you safe. I know he heard the scared and tiny eight year old Taylor, because you’re still here with us today.
With each passing year, this day is so difficult for me because I cannot possibly picture my life without him. Almost 24 years later, and I can still close my eyes and see the eight year old that sobbed, thinking that she lost her hero forever. How could I have went through life without his pep talks? Encouraging words? Hugs? Jokes? How could I have possibly lived without his love all this time? Dad - thank you for your 23 years of service to the NYPD. Thank you for the countless hours of driving the fuel trucks, working on the pile each day, and dealing with things that no one ever should have to deal with. Thank you for giving up the time you could have spent healing with your own family — so that others could make it home to theirs. Thank you for running toward the unthinkable, for saving lives, and for offering families the gift of closure when there were no miracles left to give. Your sacrifice echoes far beyond that day, and we carry your efforts and those memories with us always.
Today, we honor those still here, and remember those who have died as a result of that day. We have lost too many people to 9/11 related illnesses - including my dad’s own brother, my Uncle Dennis, who served in the FDNY and passed away in 2015. May we ALL remember those who perished, and pray for the families who mourn the loss of a loved one on this day almost 24 years ago. The pain of this day will never subside. We will never forget the small glimpse of what hell on Earth really looked like. 9/11 shaped our country into what it is today - remembering it is one thing, but growing from it is another. We are a stronger nation as a result of that day. It will always be permanently engraved in my heart. Hug your favorite first responder today - they need it more than you’ll ever know.
Born from the tragedy of 9/11, the Tunnel to Towers Foundation carries forward a legacy of courage and heroism. Built upon the mantra, “While we have time, LET US DO GOOD,” the Foundation supports our nation’s fallen and catastrophically injured first responders, military heroes and their families.
Please help me support the Tunnel to Towers Foundation and America's heroes by making a donation through my page. The process is fast, easy and secure. Thank you for your support, and please don't forget to send this page to anyone who may be interested in donating!
