Chapter Text
The phone rang loudly in the darkened room, waking Roy and Joanne DeSoto from a sound sleep. Joanne’s heart leapt into her throat. Phone calls that early in the morning usually meant trouble.
“’lo?” Roy mumbled into the receiver. “Johnny? What is it…what? Are you kidding? Goddamn it! Yeah, hang on.” Roy turned to Joanne, his face white. “Jo, turn the television on.”
“What is it?”
“Jo, the tv. Now.”
She reached to her bedstand and used the remote to turn their old color television set on. It would take a couple of minutes for the picture to warm up, but the sound was on instantly. She could hear sirens, screams and other unknown noises from the set. She started to turn it down.
“No, Johnny, it’s warming up. Are you okay? Oh. Be careful. For God’s sake, watch yourself. Call us when you can.” Roy slowly hung up the phone, tears in his eyes.
“Roy, what is it? Is Johnny hurt?”
“A plane crashed into the World Trade Towers in New York City.”
“An accident?”
“No. Just before Johnny called, another plane slammed nose first into the second tower.” Roy turned to grab his wife in his arms. “We’re under attack.”
“Oh, Roy,” Joanne hugged her husband back. “Johnny? Is he okay?” Roy’s best friend and old partner from his paramedic days was in New York City for a firefighter and paramedic convention.
“Yeah, he’s heading to the site, figures they can use every experienced man they can get. He’ll call later, let us know he’s still okay.”
They clung together while watching the news coverage of the horrific events of September 11, 2001. Joanne couldn’t stop crying and buried her head in Roy’s chest when reports of a third plane crashing into the Pentagon was announced. As the towers collapsed, Roy got to his feet and went into the bathroom. He knew Gage would be there and he didn’t want his wife to know how frightened he was. No one could survive that event.
Joanne wiped her eyes uselessly when she heard a pounding on her front door. She put her robe on and climbed down the stairs to see who was there. Peering through the keyhole, she saw her daughter outside. Joanne flung the door open.
“Jennifer!” The women fell together.
“Momma.” Jennifer sobbed. “Daddy’s here?”
“Yes, upstairs.” Joanne bit her lip. “He’s worried.”
“Oh, no. Uncle Johnny!”
“Yeah, he called. That’s how we knew about it. And he said he was heading to the Towers…to help.”
While Joanne and Jennifer clung together in the doorway, a car drove up. A distinguished man with salt and pepper hair and a matching moustache got out. Jennifer turned and held her arm out to take him into her embrace. “Uncle Marco, Uncle Johnny’s in New York!” she wailed.
“Madre de Dios,” Marco shook his head. “Let’s go inside.”