You say you'll never forget where you were when you heard the news on
September 11th, 2001,
Neither will I.

I was on the 110th floor,
In a smoke-filled room,
With a man that called his wife to say goodbye.

I held his fingers steady as he dialed.

I gave him the peace,
to say "Honey, I'm not going to make it."

I was with his wife when he called.

I held her up,
as she realized he wasn't coming home that night.

I was at the base of the building with the priest,
Ministering to the injured.

I took him home to tend to his flock in heaven.

Some met me for the first time on the 86th floor.

Some,
saught me with their last breath.

Some chose for the final time to ignore me,
But I was there.

I did not place you in the tower that day,
You may not know why,
But I do.

September 11th, 2001 was not the end of the journey for you,
But some day your journey will end,
And I will be there for you as well.

Seek me now,
While I may be found,
For I will be in the stairwell of your final moment.