On September 11, I reached my office at 7:30 a.m. At 8:45, I had just
faxed some documents and was returning to my desk when I heard a loud
explosion. Our building shook and tilted. Screams went out all over
our floor. The first aircraft had hit the floor above us. Soon debris
from the aircraft flew into our office and everything started going
up in flames.
Everyone held their calm as we made our way to the stairway. At that
moment my heart sank, as I had no clue if the plane had hit our tower
or the one my wife was working in. She should have been about to enter
the building since she started work at 9 a.m.
We were all being evacuated through the stairway. My cell phone would
not work so I had no way to reach my wife. As I came down I entered
an office on the 53rd floor and tried to make some calls. The only number
I could reach was my cousin’s wife who lived in Queens, N.Y. I
told her that I was fine and that I was coming down the stairs but that
I was really worried about my wife. Then I continued my run down the
stairs. As we were going down there were hundreds of firemen and policemen
going up to rescue people who were trapped. These brave men will never
make it to their homes.
We were escorted through the exit of Tower Two, and I had just reached
the revolving door when I heard a loud explosion and the whole building
collapsed. Boulders and mortar were flying everywhere. A few of us huddled
at one end of the building and God gave me this strength that saw me
through. I started pleading the blood of Jesus and told the people around
me to call upon the name of Christ. Everyone started crying, "Jesus!"
When people are near death, they are so ready to accept our Jesus.
By then the whole building had fallen and we were in the debris. Nothing
had fallen on me. I found myself in 3 feet of soot. I got up. There
was silence. I could see dead bodies all over. God directed me to a
guy on the ground who had a searchlight on. I picked him up and told
him that only Jesus could save us and that we had to live. When he was
up I saw "FBI" written on his jacket. We held hands and started
walking through the rubble.
We could not see anything. It was like a snow blizzard, all the concrete
and ash flying all over. The Holy Spirit showed me a light flashing
on top of an ambulance so I told this FBI agent that we needed to head
in that direction. We somehow made it to the ambulance, which had been
hit badly by flying debris … but I believe God had kept the light
flashing just for me. That light saved our lives. From there, we were
able to make our way out.
But I was still gripped with worry about Mini. I feared she must be
dead.
Crowds were running everywhere. We ran and walked for an hour. My phone
had not worked all morning, but it rang at noon. It was Mini. She was
alive. She had never made it to the tower – her train reached the
site five minutes after the first crash.
We met each other at 39th Street, where we looked back and watched
the smoke rise above the ashes. I cannot explain the sense of relief
that we had when we saw each other.
God is so good. This story of ours is too good to be true. I have no
scratch on my body. Let me tell you something, friends: God knows the
count of our hairs, and He never sleeps or slumbers.
He is coming soon. Live each day as if it could be your last.
