The past ten years went by so quickly, but at the same time, when I stop to think about it, I am amazed by how many things have changed ion my life. I went from a young single guy, to a married with two children. I was 22 in 2001, and here’s what I was doing.

It was an exciting time for me. Being single, I was going out a lot, and spending a lot of money, and doing what I want. (what most guys at this age living at home do) As a matter of fact, Sept 10th was a very exciting day. I had just purchased a new truck that night and was eager to share the news with my big brother. I woke him up just to tell him “hey…guess what. I just bought a new Jeep Cherokee.” He said, “awesome, i can’t wait to see it.” That was our last conversation.

I worked as a landscaper at that time, and I was a crew foreman. I remember getting paged and called from the office. When I called back, my boss told me that my mother called and it was important that I spoke to her. I called home, and my mother was upset, and said, “Sal…a plane crashed into the trade center, and Chris is not picking up his phone.” I dismissed it by saying…”he’ll probably call soon…it’s no big deal..calm down.” At that time, I did not know any details, or the magnitude of what was unfolding. In my head, i was thinking some asshole lost control of his private Cesna and crashed into the side of the building. When we finished that one job, I got into the truck and turned on the radio. The commentary wasn’t too detailed, and I was still taking this lightly. The only thing on my mind was that I was picking up my new truck after work.

Well, my boss called again. “Sal, come back to the shop, you need to go home…your mother needs you.” I felt something in the pit of my stomach that I’ve never felt before. I couldn’t put a finger on it, but I knew something was gravely serious. When I finally got back, I walked into my bosses office where he had the news on the television. The first thing I saw was this huge jet exploding into the World Trade Center……where my brother worked. I remembered the pain, and seriousness of my mother’s voice on the phone. I knew then, that this was not going to end well.

I nearly collapsed to the floor. My coworker had to drive me home. After a 20 minute ride home, I was greeted outside by my father, who was weeping. I saw my father deal with the death of both of his parents. I never, in 22 years, saw him in this state. He cried out, “the tower fell!” I ran inside, and as soon as I got into the house, I saw the second tower collapse, (the one my brother was working in.) I knew the Trade Center well. I was working there, before I came back to NJ to do landscaping.(I hated the commute)

This was the most surreal moment of my life. I didn’t realize yet that I just witnessed my brother die, live on national television. My coworker, and best friend, Steve arrived shortly after. He stayed with us and watched the events unfold on tv. A lot of the rest of the day was a blur. I did not sleep that night. We were all glued to the television, and our phones..hoping for some good news soon.

The next day sucked. There were a lot of false stories about many survivors being pulled from the wreckage, and our hopes were high. My mother though, had this look in her eyes I’ve never seen before. It was as if her soul had left her body. I think she just knew that her son wasn’t returning home. My phone was ringing off the hook. I was receiving calls from my brother’s friends who snuck into the city to hang fliers, and hope to find Chris. There was a lot of bad communication, and iffy cellular service at the time, due to the tower’s antenna being destroyed. I must have called my brother 100 times to no avail. It was sometime around the third day, and after no survivors being found, that a shitty realization started to sink in. I remember holding my mother, and her telling me, “Sal…you know Chris isn’t coming home.” I stayed strong. I went to my room a few minutes later and cried my eyes out for hours on end. I’ve never cried that much in my life. That was the night, I lost my childhood.

A few nights later, and investigator arrived at our home. He collected personal belongings of my brother’s to collect DNA.

In October, we held a memorial service for him at our old church where we grew up. It was amazing and heartwarming to see the amount of people that showed up. The church was packed more than I’ve ever seen it. Afterward, my family invited EVERYONE (I mean 100′s of people) to a restaurant to treat everyone to lunch. It was crazy seeing old friends, his friends, and his girlfriend for the first time since 9/11.

No closure yet, and events keep unfolding. Nearly six months go by, and my aunt Maria finds my brother’s truck in a pretty damaged parking garage nearby. We took the truck back, and I remember the dust and soot on that thing. It was already a half a year since, but the smell of that vehicle still had that scent i remembered from being near Ground Zero. It will stick in my head for as long as I live. The truck lasted a few years and I even gave it to my sister in law.

Nine months after the attack, I get a call from my mother. Officials from NYC called to tell her remains found matched the DNA of my brother. I have no idea what remains they were, because my mother refused when they asked if she wanted to know. I think it was better off that way, but from other family’s experiences, I am assuming it was bone fragments. The remains were found back in Oct. of 2001, and it took 8 months for test results to give us a tiny bit more closure. I wanted to have a spot where my brother’s friends can now pay tribute to Chris, so we had his remains buried at a cemetery in our old hometown after an intimate funeral service. I cried my eyes out…for the first time in public, in front of my family and my brother’s close friends.

Ten years go by, and my sadness, in some ways, has turned to anger and frustration. That fateful day has been politicized to no end. My mother felt some closure this past summer when it was reported that Osama Bin Laden, the mastermind of the Sept. 11th attacks, was found and killed in a raid. I don’t. I don’t know what I’m going to do yet, but I have a feeling you might eventually see me down the road in the political arena. Whether it be elected office, or broadcasting, wither way, I will have an outlet for my frustrations.

You see in the video here, that the scars are still fresh in my family, even after 10 years.