Those Who Died Living In Freedom

Written By David E. Young , 2001
  It was a mundane morning on an average day.
Work was just beginning; getting underway.
The commute its usual rush, crowds bustling as on cue.
Some tried to balance a newspaper and their brew.
The Metro shook and hummed. Taxis filled the street.
Hawkers yelled to sell their wares through seas of feet.
Yesterday was Monday. The week had had its start.
“How about them Yanks?”, the greeting as they part.
The streets grew densely crowded as folks all went to work;
Bankers in their suits; lawyers with their smirk.
Clerks unlocked the stores and all cafes were full.
Transients sat and slept as barbers cleaned their tool
Street performers sang. Hotdogs on a stick
Began the daily ratrace; eight million people thick
All heading to work in the choice America offers,
All living the dream: freedom to choose your doors.
Yes, another average day on the streets of New York City
Building a better tomorrow; a future not so gritty
Tourists from around the world filled the famous sights
Taking pictures there of buildings’ tremendous heights.
When suddenly in the corner of some unsuspecting eye,
A movement drew a look. And then there came a cry:
“No!” was the silent scream as a plane came into view.
It flew right through the city, seen by quite a few.
A passenger commercial plane was flying way too low.
It was sure to crash! But where would be its woe?
The world’s tallest complex, The World Trade Center,
Stood so tall and proud; Manhattan’s finance center.
Considered a marvel of engineering in our time,
Standing strong as the whole freedom world’s chime.
On this mundane, normal, average Tuesday,
It stood and defied the criminal world’s way.
The plane quickly flew past important buildings,
And, at the World Trade Center, turned upon its wings.
In front of all New York, a breath was quickly drawn
As tons of steel and fuel hit building smack head on.
Every life aboard instantly was lost
As metal, glass and flame everywhere were tossed.
People jumped for safety, dropping to their deaths.
Others ran down stairs as flames were furled past.
Others, across the space, in the twin of the North Tower,
Watched their coworkers in horror, at a loss for power.
A voice came on the speaker (Which was used for announcements):
“All is fine; under control. Return to your work departments.”
Some went back to get their belongings and their things.
Others ignored the voice and rushed out of the buildings.
The tower was on fire. Chaos ruled the city.
NYPD arrived and rushed in, strong and gritty.
As news crews watched the scene and circled high above,
A scream was quickly heard, “Look out!  Watch out above!”
And there it was; another hijacked passenger plane.
But then it was too late. The cry went out in vain.
It struck the second tower, killing who knew how many.
Oh what a horrible thing! Hate destroys so many!
They tried to get the buildings totally evacuated.
Heroes risked their lives against the flames created,
Rushing up the stairs as balls of fire chased them,
Unlocking stairwell doors which trapped so many men.
And if that was not enough in this hellish inferno,
A “crack” was heard and felt, and fear struck all the people.
Someone yelled, “Run! Get out!  Run for your life!”
But it was already too late; the tower could not survive.
People outside screamed as the tallest business complex
Crumbled right before them. What was to come next?
The dust and ash exhumed all within a mile.
The sun was blackened out; the air a thick soot pile.
The ash and dust made it impossible to breath.
It was now quite clear to all the world beneath
That this was no mistake; no accidental thing.
It was a planned attack with the worst kind of killing.
All those brave, bold heroes who rushed into the buildings
Were never to be seen again. There had been no warning.
They saved many lives, making them the finest
And bravest heroes there were on this day most infamous.
The world in stillness lay, shocked into sudden silence.
Someone (who knows who?) cried allowed and winced,
“Let’s get them out of there! Come now, lend a hand!”
And went in, searching the pile of debris for signs of man.
Soon this single person, covered in smoke and ash,
Was joined by countless others to search through all the hash.
The rescue had begun. And ordinary men
Became heroes on that day in that smoky den,
Digging through the carnage that had, just an hour ago,
Stood tall and mighty; taken down with just one blow.
Officers of every type looked for coworkers;
Anything alive to suddenly emerge.
As day pressed into night, the people never stopped.
They did not sleep or rest. They never gave up hope.
They did all they could to rescue everyone.
And for their troubled pains, found ash, scorched skin and bone.
Today they are still searching to recover every body.
The world has come to help; no one being snotty.
America is one. And differences aside,
We will soon repay the killers where they hide.
But this one ordinary, mundane, average Tuesday,
Will never be taken for granted as ‘just another day’
It will always be remembered: a new foundation laid.
We never will forget the price for freedom paid.
Every man, woman and child, from every country killed,
Died that day in freedom, and for that we are thrilled.
They did not die as slaves. They did not die in chains,
They did not die oppressed or under torture pains.
They were ordinary people doing ordinary things.
May we all be proud that our freedom bell still rings.  
Those Who Died Living In Freedom © 2001 by David E. Young.  All rights reserved. May not be copied or sold without express written permission from David E. Young.  May be shared on Social Media via the provided links or with included link to this page.