On the morning of September 11, 2001, I was walking in my front door after putting my daughter on the school bus and I heard the phone ringing. It was my husband calling me to tell me that he just saw that a plane crashed into one of the Twin Towers. He immediately asked “Is Michael working today?” My brother, Michael Otten was a member of Ladder 35 of the FDNY which was located on the upper west side. I told him I wasn’t sure and walked over to my parents house who lived three houses down from us. My mother and father were watching the news of the crash when I walked in. I asked my father if he knew if Michael was working. My dad being a retired Captain of L170 of the FDNY had always followed my brother’s schedule said he didn’t think he was. I then called my sister in law and she said that Michael WAS working. He had made a mutual with another fireman a few days earlier and she said that she spoke to Michael at 8:50 as he called to tell her about the crash and that they were going down to the site. Not knowing the entirety of what was happening she rushed off the phone to get her children on the school bus. So now we knew… he was going. We sat in my mother’s kitchen watching the news as the 2nd tower was hit. We knew it was a terrorist attack and we were all so scared. What was happening? We felt helpless. As time went by the first tower fell. We all said he couldn’t be down there already. “He works on the upper west side! No way they could get down there that fast to be in the towers already.” I picked up my daughter early from her 4th day of Kindergarten so scared of war…more attacks on NY. Only to see those terrible attacks on The Pentagon and Shanksville unfold and then seeing the towers fall. Such a surreal and scary time. We cried and hugged and prayed for everyone, especially for Michael. Please don’t let him be in that rubble. My husband desperately wanting to be me and our daughter and parents was stuck at work in Manhattan as they closed the bridges that day. My father feverishly trying to contact anyone at my brother’s firehouse or to contact any of the FDNY connections that he still had to try to find out what happened to his son and his brothers. Of course no news. We told each other that how could Michael call any of us as he is working to save people. We were sure that he was fine. As the day passed by we watched news and saw the bravery of so many people..strangers helping strangers. The police, firefighters, other first responders and especially civilians doing all they could to rescue and help anyone they could. True heroes..

Finally 6pm…firefighters changing shifts. Surely Michael will be getting a much needed break as we watched firemen heading down to the site in their clean turnout gear. We knew that Michael and his brothers would soon be getting their relief and he would call his wife and she would call us to say they spoke. No phone call…still waiting. So scared as I felt in my mind reality setting in, but willing it not to be true.

Around 11pm we knew it was true. My father finally got through to someone in Michael’s firehouse. They were gone. The men of L35/E40 house were in the South Tower. The 2nd tower to be hit and first to fall. They think by their communications that they were most likely climbing the stairs up around the 20th floor when the tower fell. All were lost from his house.

We were broken. All of us. My parents lost their son. My sister in law lost her husband. My 3 nephews lost their father My siblings and I lost our brother.

He was a hero. Lived a hero and died a hero. Our hero. I feel him daily. I still remember his laugh. He was always smiling. He had a great smile. I miss him every day. I know he died doing the job he loved and was trained to do. He was my big brother and now he is our family’s guardian angel.

On that terrible day we saw the worst of humanity and the best of humanity all at the same time. It is truly remarkable to think about that as the last 25 years have passed by and as I have heard people tell their stories about that day. America came together as one and we helped start to heal the wounds that we all felt that day as a nation. The wounds will never fully heal for my family though, and as September starts tomorrow I feel the bandaid starting to rip off again. Please remember what happened that day! I fear that many have forgotten and it is alarming to think that something like this could happen again. Please Never Forget!!