It Had to be a Dream

September 11, 2002

It was a year ago from today. I’m beginning to get chills up and down my spine, and don’t even know where to start this. It all just seems like a bad dream, or that’s how I wish it was. My name is Maria, and in this picture I am with my husband Gerald. Gerald and I were newly wed just last year. We lived on Long Island, both of us commuting to the city to work. Even though we worked on opposite sides of the city, we loved it. Although our busy days kept us apart, we always were able to look forward to the nights we would spend together.

“It’s alright baby, I’ll cook us a nice dinner tonight. You don’t have to worry about a thing,” he said. “I’ll have it ready by time you walk through the door, promise.”

It was Gerald’s only day of the month that he was able to leave work earlier than I did, and I surely was delighted to come home to a nice dinner set on the table. He had asked me what I wanted, and I told him I’d think about it and give him a call. After that, we kissed goodbye.

All throughout the early morning, I sat behind my desk trying to think of what I wanted to eat. My husband was a wonderful cook, and very rarely was I able to enjoy his wonderful cooking since he always had arrived home later than I did. I found what I had wanted. I remember it too: Lobster. So, I gave Gerald a call. He worked at the World Trade Centers and was always busy, so I had to call a few times. But then he answered.

“I was thinking of having Lobster too, how funny. I have some other things in mind that you might like as well. It will be a special night,” he chuckled. “Oh hey... baby, I have to go... I’m sorry. I’ll call you around 9 when I go to get breakfast, okay?”

Oh how I loved having a busy working husband. It made me so proud. 8:50 rolled around, and I was counting down the minutes. You know how young girls get when they just start dating a boy? Well that was me still. I still got butterflies with my husband, simply because he was amazing, and we did only get married two months before. Ten minutes later, I made sure I had hurried back from the water fountain so I didn’t miss his call. Then 9:10 rolled around. I decided maybe I should call him. Of course, I had to wait again, but this time, after multiple calls, no one had answered. I had always gotten through after at least 3 phone calls. What was going on?

All the sudden, my boss ran in, yelling and screaming.

“One of the World Trade Centers has been struck by a plane!”

My heart dropped. I turned on the television as fast as I could. As soon as I did, I began to cry. I quickly picked up the phone, and told myself not to worry, and that he was fine. Still no answer. I tried again and again. No answer. I sat back in my desk, and prayed for his safety. And as soon as I had lost all hope, the phone rang.

“Dear, Maria, are you okay? I’m sorry I haven’t answered. So much has been going on!”
“Are you okay? Gerald, what is going on? Tell me you are not in that building!”
Gerald worked more towards the top.

“I am sweetie. But it’s okay. We’re just making sure no one else is in here.”
“Gerald, you need to leave, please baby. Please.”
“I am about to, I pro... Oh my god.. Oh my...”

And then there was silence and I was the only one on the line. That is when the live camera on television showed the second tower. It was hit. He was gone.

I lost my husband that day. September 11th, 2001. The day the United States had lost something valuable to them, and the day I had lost a part of me.

That night, I remember it clear as day. I rode the train back onto the island. I got into my car, and drove home. I walked through my door and sat down. All of these things, I did without emotion, without feeling. I felt like I was dreaming. That night, I had made the Lobster like planned. I sat down at the table, set for two, and laughed and joked around like any other night I would come home from work. It was like he was still there. But he wasn’t.

Briana Gregorius