Why me? It is the very question that haunted meafter I escaped from Tower 1 of the World Trade Center in New York City
on September 11, 2001.
Why did God allow me to narrowly escape and return to
my family? I knew that my colleagues loved their spouses and children as
much as I loved mine. But so many of them never had the chance to see
them again. When I returned home after the surreal terror of 9/11,
embracing my wife and children and thanking God for my life were the only
things that mattered to me. But why was I granted such a blessing beyond
measure while so many others lost their loved ones?
my family? I knew that my colleagues loved their spouses and children as
much as I loved mine. But so many of them never had the chance to see
them again. When I returned home after the surreal terror of 9/11,
embracing my wife and children and thanking God for my life were the only
things that mattered to me. But why was I granted such a blessing beyond
measure while so many others lost their loved ones?
I do not recall many of the details of my ride
on the Long Island railroad to Manhattan that morning. I loved my
job as a money market broker with Garban Intercapital, Brokerage Firm, so
likely I thought of what I was going to do at work that day. Often,
I prayed a rosary for my family. Roxane and I had married in
1989. We had three children, Nicholas was 9, Brianna, 5, and the baby,
Samantha, would be 1 in December. Although there had been an ebb and flow to my
religious practice, once I experienced the all-encompassing love of
fatherhood, God became my all. Fatherhood was the core of my being
now and I became painfully aware that my infinite love for my family was not
enough. I could never love my children enough to fully protect them
physically and spiritually. I had to do my best and then trust God for
the rest.
on the Long Island railroad to Manhattan that morning. I loved my
job as a money market broker with Garban Intercapital, Brokerage Firm, so
likely I thought of what I was going to do at work that day. Often,
I prayed a rosary for my family. Roxane and I had married in
1989. We had three children, Nicholas was 9, Brianna, 5, and the baby,
Samantha, would be 1 in December. Although there had been an ebb and flow to my
religious practice, once I experienced the all-encompassing love of
fatherhood, God became my all. Fatherhood was the core of my being
now and I became painfully aware that my infinite love for my family was not
enough. I could never love my children enough to fully protect them
physically and spiritually. I had to do my best and then trust God for
the rest.
As I stepped off the train and headed for the subway
that Tuesday morning, I was greeted by a perfect fall morning. The air
was crisp enough to put a jaunt in everyone’s step as we headed to our
destinations under a clear blue sky. I took the elevator up to the 25th
floor, headed to the trading desk and quickly got on the phone with a customer
amid the din of a busy trading floor. Then, just before 9 a.m., a deafening
explosion and some sort of impact rocked the building. I literally fell
out of my chair. The building swayed like a reed but then righted
itself. Outside, glass and paper showered down from above. Screams
pierced the air as horrified faces looked around trying to make sense out of
what had just happened. My best guess was that maybe the restaurant
at the top had experienced an explosion or perhaps a small helicopter had
crashed into the building.
that Tuesday morning, I was greeted by a perfect fall morning. The air
was crisp enough to put a jaunt in everyone’s step as we headed to our
destinations under a clear blue sky. I took the elevator up to the 25th
floor, headed to the trading desk and quickly got on the phone with a customer
amid the din of a busy trading floor. Then, just before 9 a.m., a deafening
explosion and some sort of impact rocked the building. I literally fell
out of my chair. The building swayed like a reed but then righted
itself. Outside, glass and paper showered down from above. Screams
pierced the air as horrified faces looked around trying to make sense out of
what had just happened. My best guess was that maybe the restaurant
at the top had experienced an explosion or perhaps a small helicopter had
crashed into the building.
Within seconds, terrified people began
evacuating. I stayed and answered the phone, explaining to another
customer that something bad had just happened and we did not know what it was
yet. Then, thirty seconds after the first impact, there was a second
explosion. Later, I learned that after the first plane hit, jet
fuel had spilled down the elevator shaft and ignited. A ball of fire
careened down the shaft and exploded when it impacted the lobby. Again,
the building shook. An old friend and colleague, Marie, shouted
like a drill sergeant ordering everyone to get out. My boss, Nick,
was the last to leave the trading desk, following right behind me.
evacuating. I stayed and answered the phone, explaining to another
customer that something bad had just happened and we did not know what it was
yet. Then, thirty seconds after the first impact, there was a second
explosion. Later, I learned that after the first plane hit, jet
fuel had spilled down the elevator shaft and ignited. A ball of fire
careened down the shaft and exploded when it impacted the lobby. Again,
the building shook. An old friend and colleague, Marie, shouted
like a drill sergeant ordering everyone to get out. My boss, Nick,
was the last to leave the trading desk, following right behind me.
At that point, everyone quickly began filing
out. My body had stiffened but I felt no panic. That all
changed when I tried to get onto the stairwell and discovered it was packed
like sardines with people. I could not even get on it. Ceiling tiles were
cracking and displacing, and smoke drifted into the hallways.
out. My body had stiffened but I felt no panic. That all
changed when I tried to get onto the stairwell and discovered it was packed
like sardines with people. I could not even get on it. Ceiling tiles were
cracking and displacing, and smoke drifted into the hallways.
For the first time, it registered that I might not get
out alive. “Dear God,” I pleaded. “Please let me see my family
again.” I frantically looked around. The elevators were not
working. There was no way out. My eyes met a colleague,
Oscar, who called to me.
out alive. “Dear God,” I pleaded. “Please let me see my family
again.” I frantically looked around. The elevators were not
working. There was no way out. My eyes met a colleague,
Oscar, who called to me.
“I know another way out,” he told us and another guy
we worked with. We gratefully followed him to a stairwell across from the men’s
room. It was much smaller and narrower. I had always thought it was
the door to a closet. Although this stairwell was filling up, we could
still get in. Relief filled me as we headed down the stairs, trusting that we
would soon get out. There was even some lighthearted banter among people
as we hurried down. But when I arrived at the 16th floor, the
second tower was hit. No one had any idea what was going on, but we felt
the impact and inhaled the smell of jet fuel. Now, it was clear that whatever
was happening was no accident.
we worked with. We gratefully followed him to a stairwell across from the men’s
room. It was much smaller and narrower. I had always thought it was
the door to a closet. Although this stairwell was filling up, we could
still get in. Relief filled me as we headed down the stairs, trusting that we
would soon get out. There was even some lighthearted banter among people
as we hurried down. But when I arrived at the 16th floor, the
second tower was hit. No one had any idea what was going on, but we felt
the impact and inhaled the smell of jet fuel. Now, it was clear that whatever
was happening was no accident.
My only thoughts were prayers to God, pleading to see
my family again. Yet, panic clouded my head, making prayer
difficult. “I’m sorry, God,” I said in frustration, struggling
unsuccessfully to pray a coherent sentence. My being longed for two
things, to get home in the embrace of my family and get to church in the
embrace of God. I knew He was with me, but I could not mentally verbalize
anything. Yet, I knew God felt my feelings and that was all I could
manage. I thought of an aunt and uncle both of who had recently
died. Somehow, I felt their presence and I pleaded for their help.
my family again. Yet, panic clouded my head, making prayer
difficult. “I’m sorry, God,” I said in frustration, struggling
unsuccessfully to pray a coherent sentence. My being longed for two
things, to get home in the embrace of my family and get to church in the
embrace of God. I knew He was with me, but I could not mentally verbalize
anything. Yet, I knew God felt my feelings and that was all I could
manage. I thought of an aunt and uncle both of who had recently
died. Somehow, I felt their presence and I pleaded for their help.
When I reached the twelfth floor, a voice echoed
up the stairwell, commanding us to leave. It was the fire
department. My survival instincts refused to consider such an
option. There’s no way I’m getting off, I thought, fearing
I’d never get back on. It’s the only way out. No one was willing
to budge. The firemen were forced to squeeze their way past
us. I flattened myself onto the railing and watched the seemingly
fearless lieutenant mount the steps. Behind him were a dozen young
men in fire suits and helmets, carrying axes and a fire hose. Their eyes
revealed something terrible but we knew not what. We absorbed their fear and
the stairwell went silent. After they passed, my heart raced to a
dizzying pulse. “Please God, let me get home,” I begged. In my my
mind, I saw my wife and children and felt their embrace. I desperately
pleaded with God to get me home to them.
up the stairwell, commanding us to leave. It was the fire
department. My survival instincts refused to consider such an
option. There’s no way I’m getting off, I thought, fearing
I’d never get back on. It’s the only way out. No one was willing
to budge. The firemen were forced to squeeze their way past
us. I flattened myself onto the railing and watched the seemingly
fearless lieutenant mount the steps. Behind him were a dozen young
men in fire suits and helmets, carrying axes and a fire hose. Their eyes
revealed something terrible but we knew not what. We absorbed their fear and
the stairwell went silent. After they passed, my heart raced to a
dizzying pulse. “Please God, let me get home,” I begged. In my my
mind, I saw my wife and children and felt their embrace. I desperately
pleaded with God to get me home to them.
A woman just behind us struggled to help a
man in his 60’s down the stairs. He was asthmatic and the smoke that was
descending had rendered him almost helpless. Another colleague, Bruce,
and I each took an arm and helped him down. Water from the sprinkler
system made the stairway slick, so each step to survival had to be carefully
measured. But we were almost there. Finally, the door to the mezzanine
level of the lobby opened like a river releasing a flood of people.
The chandeliers overhead rattled and the surrounding window glass lay around us
in shards. A police officer who saw us helping the older man, took
over. He warned us not look around; to just get out. But it was impossible
to avoid seeing the pockets of fire and charred body parts strewn about.
man in his 60’s down the stairs. He was asthmatic and the smoke that was
descending had rendered him almost helpless. Another colleague, Bruce,
and I each took an arm and helped him down. Water from the sprinkler
system made the stairway slick, so each step to survival had to be carefully
measured. But we were almost there. Finally, the door to the mezzanine
level of the lobby opened like a river releasing a flood of people.
The chandeliers overhead rattled and the surrounding window glass lay around us
in shards. A police officer who saw us helping the older man, took
over. He warned us not look around; to just get out. But it was impossible
to avoid seeing the pockets of fire and charred body parts strewn about.
My mind could not process what my eyes took in. The police directed the
survivors away from the building. We had to wait for a police officer,
across an open-air breezeway from the North Tower to 6 World Trade
Center, to call us over. He was looking up to make sure we were
clear of falling debris and falling bodies. From 6 World Trade
Center we went to a pedestrian highway overpass. When I got to the
over pass there was a thunderous roar. People screamed. I thought
to myself, “My God, not again.” But it was the sound of US fighter jets
that had made it to the Center. Then there were crashing sounds. I looked over
to my building, and saw someone go crashing through the overhang. People
were jumping. The police kept directing us away. We crossed
the street to the World Financial Center, and proceeded to the
promenade on the Hudson River. Once there, I finally stopped and looked
up at the towers. I could see where the impact was on Tower 1.
Smoke billowed out of both towers which now glowed red with flames.
People below that impact zone were waving handkerchiefs and jumping. I
saw people holding hands with others and jumping. One guy who was engulfed
in flames when he jumped out the window, went down in a stream of smoke.
It was incomprehensible.
I was still with my boss and three colleagues as we
were directed to keep moving. We were about 200 yards from the
Tower 1, directly west. My boss lived in Jersey, so he told us all
to get on the ferry so we could all go to his house. Two ferry’s pulled
in at that moment so we got right on. The boats filled to capacity within
minutes. As the Ferry pulled out, I could not take my eyes off what
was happening. My boss turned his back, unable to watch. Within
a few minutes into the trip, Tower 2 went down. Dust and debris
filled the air. Lower Manhattan completely disappeared from view.
were directed to keep moving. We were about 200 yards from the
Tower 1, directly west. My boss lived in Jersey, so he told us all
to get on the ferry so we could all go to his house. Two ferry’s pulled
in at that moment so we got right on. The boats filled to capacity within
minutes. As the Ferry pulled out, I could not take my eyes off what
was happening. My boss turned his back, unable to watch. Within
a few minutes into the trip, Tower 2 went down. Dust and debris
filled the air. Lower Manhattan completely disappeared from view.
Like stricken war refugees, people were exhausted and
numb, many of them crying. Our group quietly got off the ferry together
and boarded the train to Nick’s home in Franklin Lakes, New Jersey. My
first instinct was to reach Roxane, but the cell towers were beyond capacity
with calls. She’s afraid I am dead, I thought. Dear God, I
prayed, please comfort Roxane. Help me get through to her.
numb, many of them crying. Our group quietly got off the ferry together
and boarded the train to Nick’s home in Franklin Lakes, New Jersey. My
first instinct was to reach Roxane, but the cell towers were beyond capacity
with calls. She’s afraid I am dead, I thought. Dear God, I
prayed, please comfort Roxane. Help me get through to her.
Two hours after after we boarded the ferry, I sat with
my coworkers at my bosses house. It was a beautiful day in a quiet
neighborhood, as if the unimaginable nightmare we had just escaped from had
never even happened. I was finally able to get through to Roxane on
my cell phone. “Honey, I’m okay,” I cried. “I’m at Nick’s’s
house.” The relief of finally connecting with her opened a floodgate of
emotions, Words escaped me. Roxane too could not speak. For
many minutes, we sobbed together on the phone. Many of our friends and
relatives were at our house with her. I longed to get home, but I was so
grateful that we finally made contact.
my coworkers at my bosses house. It was a beautiful day in a quiet
neighborhood, as if the unimaginable nightmare we had just escaped from had
never even happened. I was finally able to get through to Roxane on
my cell phone. “Honey, I’m okay,” I cried. “I’m at Nick’s’s
house.” The relief of finally connecting with her opened a floodgate of
emotions, Words escaped me. Roxane too could not speak. For
many minutes, we sobbed together on the phone. Many of our friends and
relatives were at our house with her. I longed to get home, but I was so
grateful that we finally made contact.
Transportation to and from the city was blocked, so it
would not be until the next day that I found a way home. A cousin who was
returning from business in Chicago came through to get me. When the
car pulled up in front of my house Wednesday late morning, again my emotions
flowed. Roxane and the kids came running out to meet me along with my
mother and mother-in-law and other relatives. “Daddy,” my kids screamed
and jumped into my arms. Hearing them say “Daddy” was the sweetest sound I had
ever heard. Roxane and I sobbed as we embraced. I was overcome with
gratefulness to God and sheer joy at being reunited with my loved ones. I saw
every aspect of my life as a priceless treasure that I had been privileged
enough to return to.
would not be until the next day that I found a way home. A cousin who was
returning from business in Chicago came through to get me. When the
car pulled up in front of my house Wednesday late morning, again my emotions
flowed. Roxane and the kids came running out to meet me along with my
mother and mother-in-law and other relatives. “Daddy,” my kids screamed
and jumped into my arms. Hearing them say “Daddy” was the sweetest sound I had
ever heard. Roxane and I sobbed as we embraced. I was overcome with
gratefulness to God and sheer joy at being reunited with my loved ones. I saw
every aspect of my life as a priceless treasure that I had been privileged
enough to return to.
I felt physically weak and mentally exhausted but my spirit
soared in the embrace of my family. I spent the day surrounded by people,
crying and sharing my story. The next day, Thursday, I wanted to
take Nicholas to his school, St. Agnes, and then attend morning
Mass.
soared in the embrace of my family. I spent the day surrounded by people,
crying and sharing my story. The next day, Thursday, I wanted to
take Nicholas to his school, St. Agnes, and then attend morning
Mass.
“Bye Dad,” Nicholas said, giving me a hug. But
when he pulled away and saw tears streaming down my cheeks, he became
concerned. “Are you okay, Dad?” he asked.
when he pulled away and saw tears streaming down my cheeks, he became
concerned. “Are you okay, Dad?” he asked.
“Yes,” I insisted. “I’m just so happy.” I
kissed and hugged my precious son again and told him I would see him after
school.
kissed and hugged my precious son again and told him I would see him after
school.
 |
| Micheal Fineo |
I got back in the car and drove to the church
entrance. But as I walked to the church door, all my strength drained
from me. I literally needed to support myself on each pew as I pulled
myself up to the front of church. Then, I collapsed in the front pew and
cried harder than I have ever cried in my life. All my
emotions–fear, joy, thankfulness, love….everything–poured forth. And
guilt. I had been blessed beyond measure to be reunited with my family,
but what about all the others? There were fifty members of my
neighborhood community that never returned. At that point, I did not know
the numbers, but I had no doubt that those that did not make it out had loved
their family as deeply as I loved mine. Someone from behind me rubbed my
back as it shook and heaved between sobs. They never said a word but
their touch consoled me.
entrance. But as I walked to the church door, all my strength drained
from me. I literally needed to support myself on each pew as I pulled
myself up to the front of church. Then, I collapsed in the front pew and
cried harder than I have ever cried in my life. All my
emotions–fear, joy, thankfulness, love….everything–poured forth. And
guilt. I had been blessed beyond measure to be reunited with my family,
but what about all the others? There were fifty members of my
neighborhood community that never returned. At that point, I did not know
the numbers, but I had no doubt that those that did not make it out had loved
their family as deeply as I loved mine. Someone from behind me rubbed my
back as it shook and heaved between sobs. They never said a word but
their touch consoled me.
Tears flowed continuously throughout mass.
Thankfully, the priest always brought communion to those sitting in the front
pew. I would not have had the strength to get up. After people
received Holy Communion, they all made contact with me by patting my shoulder
or back or squeezing my hand. I did not know who they were, but I
appreciated their desire to comfort me.
Thankfully, the priest always brought communion to those sitting in the front
pew. I would not have had the strength to get up. After people
received Holy Communion, they all made contact with me by patting my shoulder
or back or squeezing my hand. I did not know who they were, but I
appreciated their desire to comfort me.
After Mass, Monsignor Caldwell who performed the
service came over and talked with me. Through tears, I admitted that
although I had never wanted anything more in my life than to survive, now I
struggled with the question, “Why me?”
service came over and talked with me. Through tears, I admitted that
although I had never wanted anything more in my life than to survive, now I
struggled with the question, “Why me?”
“What makes me so special?” I asked. “So many of
my friends and colleagues died that day. They had young kids just like
me. Why didn’t they survive and I did?”
my friends and colleagues died that day. They had young kids just like
me. Why didn’t they survive and I did?”
Monsignor Caldwell patted my arm. “That is
something you do not need to know,” he said quietly. “God has
plans for you. It’s not meant for you to figure out.” I knew
Monsignor was right. His words brought comfort but my grief for the
others was still tinged with guilt.
something you do not need to know,” he said quietly. “God has
plans for you. It’s not meant for you to figure out.” I knew
Monsignor was right. His words brought comfort but my grief for the
others was still tinged with guilt.
A couple days later, our company set up temporary
operations in another office space. Everyone was invited to return as
they felt able. For the next few days, I stayed home with Roxane,
playing and reading to the kids and helping them with their homework.
Physically, I still felt weak as if I had just had the flu. But by the
following Wednesday, I went back to work. For weeks, the work seemed
meaningless but the camaraderie was intense. We would go out for long,
therapeutic lunches and share our stories and emotions with one another. I
still could not completely shake the guilt, but it was reassuring to be with
other friends who had survived also.
operations in another office space. Everyone was invited to return as
they felt able. For the next few days, I stayed home with Roxane,
playing and reading to the kids and helping them with their homework.
Physically, I still felt weak as if I had just had the flu. But by the
following Wednesday, I went back to work. For weeks, the work seemed
meaningless but the camaraderie was intense. We would go out for long,
therapeutic lunches and share our stories and emotions with one another. I
still could not completely shake the guilt, but it was reassuring to be with
other friends who had survived also.
Life gradually became routine again, although it was
never the same. Then, a year-and-a-half later, in April of 2003,
Roxane was diagnosed with a brain tumor on her left optic nerve. An MRI
revealed it was benign. On May 5, she went in for what was expected to be a
routine operation, as far a brain surgery goes. The surgery lasted 10
hours; three hours longer than expected, but her recovery looked good. By
the following day, however, fluid began to build up on the brain and her
condition became critical. The situation worsened so that we did not know
if she would live or die. It was necessary to put her in a medically
controlled state of unconsciousness while doctors worked furiously to control
the swelling. I again prayed for survival; this time for Roxane’s.
never the same. Then, a year-and-a-half later, in April of 2003,
Roxane was diagnosed with a brain tumor on her left optic nerve. An MRI
revealed it was benign. On May 5, she went in for what was expected to be a
routine operation, as far a brain surgery goes. The surgery lasted 10
hours; three hours longer than expected, but her recovery looked good. By
the following day, however, fluid began to build up on the brain and her
condition became critical. The situation worsened so that we did not know
if she would live or die. It was necessary to put her in a medically
controlled state of unconsciousness while doctors worked furiously to control
the swelling. I again prayed for survival; this time for Roxane’s.
On the day of the surgery, a priest had come to visit
at the hospital. I shared my story with him and confessed that I still
carried guilt that I had survived while so many others did not. “Don’t
you see,” he said to me. “Who would take care of Roxane and the kids if
you were not here? Your family needs you,” he said. “God still has
work for you to do.”
at the hospital. I shared my story with him and confessed that I still
carried guilt that I had survived while so many others did not. “Don’t
you see,” he said to me. “Who would take care of Roxane and the kids if
you were not here? Your family needs you,” he said. “God still has
work for you to do.”
As I stepped in and took over for my family,
acceptance and understanding grew in me. Previously, I had mentally
understood the reality of God’s will, but now I was experiencing it on a deeper
level. I was here, because God still had a purpose for me in this
world. It does not not mean that those who died are not missed terribly,
but it is God’s call. There is always pain and loss beyond our
choosing. I do not need to feel guilty for still being with my family.
I am a husband and a father, here at God’s bidding to love and
serve those in my life.
acceptance and understanding grew in me. Previously, I had mentally
understood the reality of God’s will, but now I was experiencing it on a deeper
level. I was here, because God still had a purpose for me in this
world. It does not not mean that those who died are not missed terribly,
but it is God’s call. There is always pain and loss beyond our
choosing. I do not need to feel guilty for still being with my family.
I am a husband and a father, here at God’s bidding to love and
serve those in my life.
Since 9/11, my desire to serve others has increased
tenfold beginning with my family. God still wants me here for that
purpose. It is not for me to question, but only to meld my will to his
and bask in the blessings he gives me.
tenfold beginning with my family. God still wants me here for that
purpose. It is not for me to question, but only to meld my will to his
and bask in the blessings he gives me.
Roxane eventually made a full recovery. Our
trials have been our triumphs. Life’s joys have been magnified since our
brushes with death. As for me, not a day goes by that I don’t think of
9/11 to one extent or another. I would never had chosen to go through it,
but I have grown because of it. My thankfulness runs much
deeper. I see also that it has brought out the best in people.
Especially immediately following the tragedy, love and caring were
outpouring. In a city where people rarely acknowledge one another,
passersby made eye contact and greeted one another. Churches filled and
people wanted to reach out and help others in need. When Roxane
needed to be taken care of for awhile, our community rallied around us with
meals, cleaning, and a multitude of other help. Our children have
witnessed the response of adults. They have learned that comforting others also
brings comfort to yourself.
trials have been our triumphs. Life’s joys have been magnified since our
brushes with death. As for me, not a day goes by that I don’t think of
9/11 to one extent or another. I would never had chosen to go through it,
but I have grown because of it. My thankfulness runs much
deeper. I see also that it has brought out the best in people.
Especially immediately following the tragedy, love and caring were
outpouring. In a city where people rarely acknowledge one another,
passersby made eye contact and greeted one another. Churches filled and
people wanted to reach out and help others in need. When Roxane
needed to be taken care of for awhile, our community rallied around us with
meals, cleaning, and a multitude of other help. Our children have
witnessed the response of adults. They have learned that comforting others also
brings comfort to yourself.
When I recently brought Nicholas to volunteer at a
soup kitchen for his confirmation volunteer hours, we both loved it. I believed
in helping others before, but its different now. Those of us who
experience 9/11 live life on a deeper level than we did before. We understand
that love is what matters most. And that, is a blessing.
soup kitchen for his confirmation volunteer hours, we both loved it. I believed
in helping others before, but its different now. Those of us who
experience 9/11 live life on a deeper level than we did before. We understand
that love is what matters most. And that, is a blessing.
This story first appeared in Amazing
Grace for Fathers.
Grace for Fathers.
Michael and his family live in Rockville Centre,
NY. He is happily married to Roxane. They have 3 beautiful
children.
NY. He is happily married to Roxane. They have 3 beautiful
children.
~~~~~
For more inspiration check out Patti’s latest book: Holy Hacks: Everyday Ways to Live Your Faith & Get to Heaven. Other books include: Big Hearted: Inspiring Stories from Everyday Families and the best-selling Amazing Grace Series. Follow Patti at Twitter and Pinterest, like her pages at Holy Hacks, Dear God Books, Big Hearted Families, Catholic News & Inspiration on Facebook, and her author Facebook page. Sign up at the right column to receive articles in your inbox. God bless you!
