I was young, 22 in fact. I had married my sweetheart just over a year ago and our daughter was born on July 2001. My wife was at home with my mother-in-law preparing dinner. I had taken our daughter to the clinic for her bi-weekly check-up and as I walked up the road I remember being full of pride. The future was looking good, our daughter was healthy and I distinctly remember that stroll home being full of thoughts of her future. What would she grow to be, how will she turn out, what will my decisions in life mean for her. There was a strange air of quietness that afternoon. (we live in Scotland, + 5 hours).
on arriving home, my wife took my daughter, made me a tea and I settled down to watch some tv in the living room. When I turned on the tv the first tower had been hit and was in flames. A live feed was on the air from a chopper. Not sure what was going on I changed the station. Every channel was showing the world trade centre on fire in NYC. Nobody knew what was going on. A terrible accident had occurred, or that’s what we thought. I called my wife and mother in law through and watched in horror as the second jet hit. It hit the second tower, it hit the people below, it hit the people inside, it hit home. This was no accident. In those moments the world, my world, my daughters world our world had changed. I was a million miles away but in a sense I was there. Sure, I had not lost a family member or a friend but something was lost. My hope, my future, my faith in humanity…gone. My wife was in tears, I consoled her. She was in fear. She told me that she was scared that our daughter wouldn’t see her first birthday. 9/11 did not only affect the immediate victims, New York or America. It affected the world. The vibrations of that heinous crime were felt in every corner of our planet. It brought some together, it divided many but it left an imprint on every heart. That is my personal story of the horror that is 9/11.