I was five. I was at home and my mom and I watched the TV all day. I saw the second tower get hit. I don’t remember a lot of things from my childhood but that one memory is as clear as day. At the time I didn’t understand what was happening, my mom was 9 months pregnant with my little sister and she couldn’t stop throwing up and crying. She just held me and rocked me. I cried with her. She told me she loved me a lot. I kept asking what was happening and she just would say “Bad things, baby. Very very bad things”.

My mom later told me she thought we were going to die that day. She was scared she was going to go into labor. My sister was born 2 weeks later. I watched the color drain from my moms face that day and it never came back. 9/11 changed my mom. She was never the same.