After getting up and getting some coffee, I turned on the TV and switched over to Fox News, where Shepard Smith was broadcasting a breaking story about a possible commuter airplane crashing into the WTC. As I looked at the damage to the North tower, my first thought was “the damage is too big for a small aircraft.” I also noticed it was a clear and sunny morning, conditions not conducive for an aircraft to accidently fly into a huge building.  About fifteen minutes later I watched as a 767 flew into the South Tower and exploded.  I yelled for my wife to come quickly. Smith was silent for a couple of seconds and then stated, “Another aircraft has just flown into the WTC-Ladies and gentlemen, this is not an accident—it is a deliberate act of terrorism.” Shortly after that reports of the Pentagon being hit by another aircraft and footage showing the damage began to filter in. I knew then this was a major terrorist attack in progress.  

 My younger brother, Tomas, works for American Airlines and frequently flies the Eastern Seaboard and European routes.  My older brother, Juan, was stationed at the Pentagon at that time, working for the Joint Chiefs of Staff. I immediately ran to the phone and called Tomas’ number and could not reach him.  I then called Juan’s cell number and got his voice-mail, leaving a message for him to contact me as soon as possible. I continued to call both numbers every few minutes trying to get hold of my brothers with no luck. About twenty minutes after that I watched in horror as the first tower collapsed. I could not believe what I was watching. As I watched the second tower burn I knew it too would go down and within the half hour it too collapsed. I was filled with an overwhelming sense of anguish and cold fury as I witnessed this incredible tragedy unfold. Shortly after the collapse of the second tower I thought to myself “Screw these cowardly bastards, I’ll show them something!” I went to the closet, retrieved my American Flag, and hung it out. My neighbor happened to be walking out to work, clueless as to what was happening, and so I updated him on what had happened. He was dumbfounded. After hanging the flag I called my unit, whereupon they informed me that we were on full alert, on standby for further orders, and to pack a basic load bag. 

 After talking to my unit, I continued to watch the news and get through to my brothers.  I finally got through to Tomas—it took me three hours because of cell-phone networks being jammed with traffic.  He had just finished a flight on the East Coast (he’s based out of Dallas) and was about to leave to work a flight to Spain.  He was ok but he also was trying to get hold of Juan. I told him to keep on trying and the first one of us to make contact would call the other. I managed to get through to an operator in the afternoon and she, oddly enough, also had a brother who worked at the Pentagon.  She had no luck at all and was able to tell me the cell network in that area had been completely overwhelmed with calls and shut down.  We talked about what had happened and reassured each other that all would be well. I continued to call Juan every thirty minutes until I reached him at 11:15pm that night. He was ok, though he did have a somewhat close call.  The aircraft’s impact point into the Pentagon was 800 meters from his office. We talked at length about what he’d seen and gone through and he said his most vivid memory was that Donald Rumsfeld (Secretary of Defense) had to be almost dragged away by the Secret Service from the Pentagon because he was helping pull people out of the wreckage and assisting the injured. 

 A month after the September 11th, I received a call from Alex’s day care teacher at WTAMU. They had asked the kids to participate in drawing activities and Alex had drawn, with great detail, the Twin Towers, with one tower ablaze and a jet plane flying into the other. I hadn’t realized how much he had taken in while we watched the news on that terrible day.