`The Fireman' ---- a fiction/poem of 9-11

With Sept 11 just around the corner, I have been thinking a lot about the events that happened that day in our great country. It was a tragic day for all of America. In the aftermath, I wrote a poem called `The Day America' cried'. It is in my blog on July 13th if you care to read or reread it.

A few days after I wrote that poem, I wrote a second. It is a work of fiction but I wonder if through miracles, such a thing could not have happened. Who knows...

I hope you like it BUT MOST IMPORTANTLY - REMEMBER 9-11 and the folks who died. By the way, Molly lost a cousin at the Pentagon on 9-11.
....................................................................................

The Fireman
by Jay Wilson


I have heard of things called miracles all of my life.
I have heard about Angels and God from my wife.
It’s not that I didn’t believe in prayers and such.
It’s just that I didn’t think about it all that much.

Then came the day when I was on the top of `the Tower’.
That day I learned to believe and it all happened in an hour.
We were sightseeing from the `lookout’ point on Building Two
We saw the plane hit Building One and the fire that passed through.

We heard the explosion and fear gripped my very soul.
My wife and I watched in horror as the tragedy begin to unfold.
Fire flew out and we could see debris and ... bodies begin to fall.
I held on to her and we both cried and then came the call.

We were being told to make our way down to the street.
Just as a safety measure, I told her where we should meet.
I was afraid if we got separated, she would be hard to find.
Then people started pushing and the lines began to wind.

We were being carried in the crowd and I lost hold of her grip.
People were scared and shoved ... and then she tripped.
I lost sight of my lady but I just knew she’d be okay.
We were almost down, Well, I think about half way.

Then the whole building shook and we all heard the boom.
I knew we had been hit as the smoke filled the room.
The heat was tremendous and fire was burning just above.
I worried where my wife was and had I just lost my love.

We were led down to the outside and the sight was Hell.
Metal and bricks and bodies; all mangled, lay where they fell.
We were led to safety by firemen who took us away
from the devastation we experienced on this day.

All I could think about was my wife - I pray she got out too.
The life we had together wasn’t finished.. we just weren't through .
I wouldn’t accept any less than she would be safe and well.
Then we heard the horrible noise as the first tower fell.

I ran out to the front and you could see a huge wall of smoke.
It came and passed over and by us, its thickness made you choke.
Like a beam of light, I could see something in the dark coming near.
It was a fireman helping a lady, my wife, he washed away my fear.

When she saw me, she ran and threw her arms around my neck.
She told me how the fireman had pulled her from the burning wreck.
We turned to go inside out of the smoke and asked him to come.
With a brackish face and a solemn smile, he said. “I’m not done”.

We watched him as he trotted back toward the war-torn site.
My wife said she’d never forget her fireman, her guiding light.
She told me of how the explosion had hit very near her on the floor.
And how she was knocked unconscious and knew nothing more.

When she came to, the fireman was leading her out of the smoke.
It was like being in a horrible dream and then she awoke.
But the strangest thing was yet to come with the news on wire.
The young firemans name was listed as `missing’ at the tower.

He was one of the first on the scene and fighting this `man-made’ Hell
And he was there, doing his job, when the first tower fell.
We heard later they found him, with his hand on another `lost life’.
I’ll believe to my dying day that he was the same that saved my wife.

He wasn’t able to save the woman who was caught under the fall.
So he came back from death to save my love from that burning hall.
I know there were, probably, others saved by him that fiery day.
But like us, they’ll keep quiet and have nothing to say.

Besides, who would believe such a story? Not most I am sure.
My wife wants to keep her story personal and I concur.
It’s not a story for news .. it’s more like a story to share.
About a man who was needed and through God, he was there.