We Will Not Forget

The Day That Changed My Life

By: Carolyn Koestner

The sky was filled with smoke, and the air filled with screams. People ran for their lives as the smoke chased them through the down town streets. Embers flickered down through the thickening smoke. Cries were hears all across the nation as people stared at their TV's in disbelief.

I too was stared at my TV, but unaware of what was happening. My mother who was sobbing beside me, cried "daddy's dead" over and over. I hugged her and tried to comfort her as she sobbed. I continued to watch the horror unfold, and newscasters reporting what had just happened. "If you are just tuning in" a newscaster started "here is what has happened today September 11, 2001."

That day, that horrible day I lost my Father. But I wasn't alone Hundreds of kids lost their fathers or their mothers that day. Brothers, Sisters, Husbands, Wives, Daughters, and Sons all lost that day. I only being five never knew that I had just lost my Father that day. Though as I grow older, that day haunts me every year. I can't escape it, everywhere you go or do that day you hear about it. On TV the newscasters are on site, at school we have moment of silence. Now they are also building the World Trade Center memorial site.

I was born on August 24, 1996, the same day my dad was born. He said that I was the best birthday gift he ever got. At the age of two my parents got divorced, I went to go live with my mom. I saw my dad every other weekend, but as far as I'm concerned that was not enough time. He worked for cancer fit Jerald on the 101 floor. He didn't have a chance of escaping once the plane hit.

This really makes me think deeper about life and the saying that people have, "you don't know what you got till it's gone." I think this quote is 100% true. Most kids my age say that they "hate" their parents, which I could never do. Most kids say that their parents embarrass them or are really annoying. Though I bet if one of their parents died they would take that back.

Everyone's parents are going to die at some point in their life. Unfortunately for my dad and me he died so young. Every year on our birthday I go outside and let a balloon fly up into the sky and say "Happy birthday daddy." I would give anything to have him back.

This essay is in memory of Frank J. Koestner

I love you daddy