http://dailycaller.com/2018/09/12/joe-scarboroughs-9-11-victim/
OPINION: Joe Scarborough’s 9/11 Op-Ed — Through The Eyes Of A Victim
9:51 AM 09/12/2018
The September 11 Washington Post op-ed by MSNBC’s Joe Scarborough was a slap in the face.
On the anniversary of the 9-11, his closing words were particularly galling, alleging in the context of the jihadist attack on America that President Donald Trump has “done more damage to the dream of America than any foreign adversary ever could.”
It was especially galling for my friend Pete, who lives in rural Pennsylvania.
I met Pete in college, and that’s not his real name. He had traveled from Long Island to Buffalo for school, otherwise we would have never met. He was a smart and funny fellow, quick to laugh and a real patriot.
I had just completed my U.S. Army enlistment, and his respect for the military made us fast friends. I was a loudmouth conservative; he was a quiet one. Like me, he was a rebel. We hit it off like brothers, and we have been close ever since.
Pete had real promise. After a short stint working in Washington in the 1980s, he decamped to New York to work in the financial industry. We stayed in touch, and while he focused on his young family and a successful career, I labored in the salt mines of politics.
He loved my stories of Beltway mischief, but he didn’t say much about his work. He told me it was boring, and he just wanted to know more about what Jack Kemp and Ronald Reagan were up to. I told him the stories, just to hear his laugh.
In 1993, his office in the World Trade Center North Tower was the target of an Islamist terrorist attack. Afterward, he told me he was trapped in the building during the crisis. When they were finally allowed to leave, it took hours to climb down 48 floors in the pitch-black stairwell, carefully tapping each step with his foot as he descended. And then, the firemen: As he neared the bottom, the brave men and women in full battle gear were climbing up. Six lives were stolen, thousands were injured, but Pete survived.
Fast-forward eight years and a few jobs later, Pete was working in the offices of Morgan Stanley in the South Tower. At 8:46 a.m. on September 11, 2001, the place shook as if an earthquake hit, just like in 1993. This time, he was 46 floors up in the air.
Remembering the first attack, his body and mind just reacted and launched him to the exits. He grabbed his pal, and they began to vault down the stairs. With each passing floor, more people joined them. The lights were on this time, so his descent was rapid. He saw his children projected on the white walls of the stairwell. He saw the image of his son, he saw his daughter’s face, and he kept descending.
When Pete emerged on the street below, he realized he still had his morning doughnut in his mouth. He was so scared, he forgot he was taking a bite when the explosion sent him running. The sugar ran down his mouth and covered his crisp starched shirt. He looked up to see the North Tower in flames. And then over his head, at 9:03 a.m., the second terrorist plowed a hijacked airliner into the South Tower.
Pete ran for his life. Debris from the aircraft rained down around him; large pieces struck and killed others escaping. He ran and ran, heading for the East River.
At 9:59 a.m., he heard a horrible rumbling. He knew, before he turned to look, that one of the towers was collapsing. It was his own.
Pete told me later that when he reached the river, he thought of jumping in and swimming across. To him, the entire island of Manhattan was a target and his impulse was to flee by any means necessary. Soon, he was able to reach his wife on his cell phone; she was terrified that he had been killed. He returned home late that night. He had survived — but not really.
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