That was the Facebook status update that I read last night by a friend I met the last time I was in New York. She shared with me in the back of a bar in Soho, called “R Bar,” her father worked on the 95th floor of the World Trade Center on September 11, 2001. I had never met this girl in my life, but we immediately bonded over sharing deep details of our lives. I don’t remember how it happened, but we started talking about September 11, and I told her how my dad was in the Pentagon, completely not knowing what she had been through that was so much worse than my “near death” story I had just shared. She was the only person I had met, face to face, and had a conversation with who had lost an immediate family member that day. They never found any remains of her father, and I said to her that maybe that was better for them, to know that he probably didn’t suffer.
I sent her a message last September 11 telling her that I was still praying for her family. What most of us have “moved on” from, she and her family still struggle. And I’m sure that 3,000 other families are struggling right along with them, especially never receiving that closure. They’ve just learned to move on, to continue life without their father, and to hope that one day, justice will prevail.
And last night, it was just that for her. Justice. So good that she said it in all capital letters. One word. So, so much meaning. I smiled wide as soon as I saw her post, because that was exactly what she and her family (and thousands of others) needed last night. What we know as “justice” in America was served. The man responsible was taken from this earth and will pay his eternal price in hell.
PRAISE GOD FOR THE STRENGTH OF THE AMERICAN MILITARY.
Praise God for JUSTICE. How awesome must it be to feel some sort of closure, after ten agonizing years. I will never stop thinking and praying for your family, Daniella.