“I doubled over. I couldn’t lift my arms. My head felt heavy as it rested against my knees. My dad opened the door and immediately covered me. I felt the moisture of his tears against my cheek. I approached the very tall, soft-faced Chaplain. He had the saddest eyes I’d ever seen.”
“It was a helpless day. We stood outside of our home knowing there was nothing we could do. At the end of the day, we had nothing but the clothes on our back.”
“In her final moments, I held my girl one last time and looked at her big brown eyes to tell her how much I loved her.”
“2 of which were even born on the same day! This department is on fire!”
This year, 17 years after the fatal attacks, the tradition continues. Never forget.