“My mom chose to birth me during extreme hardship in her life. I was conceived out of abuse, my biological father passed before I was born. She lived alone, with no family close. Regardless, my mom said to me, ‘As soon as I heard your heartbeat and saw you on the ultrasound, I knew I loved you.’ My mom chose sacrifice when she chose life for me.”
“The mom was gathering an unholy ton of luggage, and had turned away for just a moment. She looked up with absolute horror. People were suddenly shoulder to shoulder, crammed like sardines. I bent down to a sweet, terrified girl. Quiet tears fell before the shaking of her small sobs could be heard. There was no police. No security guard. No one, but her.”
“We were unsure how to tell him he’s too weak to ride through the parade. Then we made the decision – we are going for it. We are putting him in his uniform and into a car, with a nurse, so one last time, he can see what he and his beloved wife did for our little town.”
“At that moment I found myself yelling to him, ‘YOU ARE WORTH MORE THAN THIS’ over and over again.”
“It was then that I saw it. My husband was a hero. In that moment I witnessed in his deepest, darkest despair, yet he still did the right thing.”
This year, 17 years after the fatal attacks, the tradition continues. Never forget.
“We were near the 9/11 Memorial entrance. It was POURING rain. ‘You guys come with me.’ He escorted us past the long line, past the police officers, and told the security guards, ‘These are my two friends, let them in.’ Before he left, he told us to look for him in the museum; we would find his picture and the watch he wore that fateful day. Sure enough, we did.”
“I would’ve died if it wasn’t for Peter. He made sure I wasn’t bullied at our first school.”