My husband Frank was born and brought up early on in the Bronx. He comes from a family of Irish New York City Firemen
and Policemen. It was always funny to hear him talk about family get togethers. On one side of the yard would be the firemen,
while on the other side would be the policemen. As you can well imagine, as the day wore on there would always be the debate
as to which of the two groups had it the hardest. I guess we as a nation found out the answer, both groups it would
seem.
Frank's son Steven is now close to 30, and works on Wall Street, as manager of trading for one of the areas
financial companies. Steve's office was approximately one-half block from the Trade Center, so you can imagine what was going
through evryone's mind as we watched the events of the day unfold on television. No calls were going I or out of the
area, so there was no news about anyone.
It wasn't until ten oclock at night that we recieved a call from Steve saying he was okay. Seems he was at his company's
Brooklyn office and witnessed everything from across the river. He said he had to walk over one hundred blocks to get home,
and that until then no cell calls or any communications were going out or in to NYC.
Needless to say, when we see him soon, he will get a BIG, BIG hug.
