I had gotten off that morning from work at 6 a.m. CST after working a 12 hour shift. I was still a rookie, had just a little over a year on the streets.
My wife (then girlfriend) was going to college in Waco while I was living in an apartment south of Dallas. I was settling down in bed flipping the channels and called her at the usual time like we did every morning we were apart due to my job. We were chatting while she was getting ready for school. I noticed that all the channels seemed to be having special news breaks. I told my wife something was up. She turned on her television and we learned a plane had struck the World Trade Center. I remember laying there in bed and telling her that it didn't make sense to me, a plane hitting the WTT, it all seemed just too odd to me. We gabbed a little more about it and then we both, at the very same time since we were both watching Fox News, saw the second plane hit. After a brief minute or so of silence, I finally said to her, "We're under attack."
We talked about it, she started crying, I was up in arms, ready to fight somebody, my natural urge to fight came out very strong, but I had no enemy to fight in my bedroom that morning. We finally decided it was best for me to just stay where I was and she do her normal routine, which was go to school.
I stayed glued to the TV while she went to class, they let her out fairly quickly due to the events of the day and she immediately drove up to my apartment, which was a hour and fifteen minute drive.
She got there about 11 a.m. and we stayed glued to the TV. I finally had to get a little sleep since I had to be back in uniform and on duty at 6 p.m.
I had some very restless sleep between 2:30 p.m. and 5 p.m.
I got in uniform and went to work, my colleagues and I simply sat watching the closest TV for hours, we didn't have one call that night. We watched President Bush address the nation, we watched helplessly as our fellow Officers and Firemen struggled at Ground Zero and at the Pentagon.
The lives lost, the needless pain and suffering of thousands, really tore a hole in my heart.
I have to admit though, the two or three months after 9/11 were the best of my career, thus far. People actually appreciated me and my job, they never failed to tell me or show it. Whether I was giving them a ticket or helping them quell a neighbors dog, they'd always be grateful to me for my service. It was remarkable to see so many people from different walks of life actually thank me for just doing what I had to do.
Seriously, it was remarkable. I'll never forget that feeling. I never felt I deserved the praise and adoration I did get, but it was very eye opening to see how great the people in our country can be. It was then I placed a lot of faith in my fellow humans and fellow Americans.
It did really bother me to have to receive the hand shakes and the comments when I was still alive and well while thousands weren't alive to get that which they deserved.
Just a short year and one month later I would burying a fellow Officer of my department who had been slain during the murderous rampage of a psychotic nut. He had relieved me that morning he died, it could have been me, the schedules been different. He wore the same badge and uniform as I did. It all happened to me again, but on a much smaller scale. But that, is another story.....
