September 11, 2001.My husband Michael woke up early for work as usual. He was a trader for Euro Brokers and worked on the 84th floor of the World Trade Center’s South Tower, 15 miles from our apartment in Riverdale, so he left before 6am.Michael was so excited that day.
He had been taking a sailing course, and was wearing his brown sailing shoes because he was collecting his certificate after work.
He kissed me goodbye. ‘I love you,’ we both said as he left. Then I went back to sleep. It would be the last time I’d see him.Three hours later I woke up to my phone ringing, Michael’s number flashing on the screen.
Mornings were always the busiest times on the trading floor, so my first thought was, why is he calling? ‘Turn on the TV,’ he said.
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