WTC - Soul Survivor                  by: Kelly Davidson

 

Mike O’Malley shifted through the rubble that had once been the site of the World Trade Center Towers. A twenty-two year firefighter veteran, he had seen his share of horrible events; but none of them had prepared him for this. Everywhere he looked there was twisted metal, broken chunks of concrete, ugly gray dust, and worst, body parts. It had been over a hundred hours since the buildings had fallen, and the mood around him was pretty discouraging.

The United States and free world was at war with terrorism, and Mike feared where it would all end. The rescue effort was starting to fail as well. No one wanted to come out and admit it, but this was turning into a body recovery effort instead of a rescue operation. This would be it, his last job. After this was all over Mike would resign his commission and leave the force. He had seen so much death this week that he couldn’t bear to see any more.

He grabbed one edge of a huge piece of tile while his men grabbed the other ends. When they moved it aside, they discovered a small opening in the ground. Hope rose among the men as Mike pointed his flashlight down into the dark hole about 10 feet deep. At the bottom he spotted two bodies, a young woman and a fireman. Mike’s heart went cold.

"I’ll go get them," one of his men said softly to him.

"No, I’ll go," Mike motioned to his young comrade. The other firefighters grabbed the rope and gently lifted their captain down into the hole. Mike pulled out the body bags from his pocket and wrapped the bodies up; then help direct them slowly to the surface.

‘Merciful God, when will this end?’ Mike asked himself silently. He was startled when he heard a reply.

"Hey, can you hear me?"

Mike shot out of his trance and looked around, then shouted to the top, "shut up you guys, I think I just heard something." The men and woman up above stopped talking, a few even prayed that their leader had heard a voice. Mike listened carefully and heard it again.

"Hey, can you hear me?"

"We have someone!" Mike shouted almost joyfully. "Jenny, Tom, grab some cutting equipment and tell the chief we just found someone alive down here."

Mike turned to a small hole in the side of the rubble, just barely big enough for someone to squeeze into, and shouted, "I hear you mister, help is coming." The fireman looked up at his friends and yelled, "I’m going in to check and see what we’re up against." With those parting words he bravely lurched himself into the small, dark hole, ignoring his own safety.

"I hear you buddy," he shouted out in the darkness. "Keep talking so I can find you."

"I’m above you," the voice shouted back. Mike rolled over onto his back and sat up, punching his way through the soft paperboard panel that had once been part of a ceiling. He moved his flashlight around and spotted him, a young man in his early twenty’s wearing firefighter gear. He was skinny and tall, with curly brown hair that was almost feminine in appearance. Lying across his lap was a large, steel beam that had him pinned in. It would take hours to get him out.

"Keep still," Mike told him in a comforting fashion. "Are you in any pain?"

"No, not anymore," the young man replied back bravely.

"Help is on the way son, we’ll have you out in a jiffy."

"No," the trapped fireman replied back sternly. "If you try to remove this beam, it’ll shift and others below me will die. You have to dig them out first."

"How do you know about other survivors?" Mike asked directly.

"I just do," the man replied back in a way that left Mike with no doubts he was telling the truth. "I was on the 31^st floor when the tower collapsed, but they were on the 3^rd floor. As luck would have it, this beam created a large pocket around them. However, if you try to move this beam the pocket will collapse and kill them. There are seven of them, and they won’t last much longer. Please, take your men and go 30 feet west of here, then dig down about 10 feet and yell. You’ll hear them then."

"What’s your name and company?"

"Its – its James, sir. My company is – Please, do what I ask first – I can wait."

"I’ll be back soon," Mike reassured him.

The fireman inched his way out of the hole, dust and other debris falling down around him as he did. When he got out to the main hole he looked up at his men.

"There are others trapped down there," he yelled up. "Bring me up and I’ll show you where to dig."

Mike was somewhat leery of what James had told him. Maybe if he hadn’t been a fellow firefighter Mike would’ve felt differently, but something inside him told him that he needed to listen to what James had to say. He directed one of the rescuers to stay with the trapped fireman while he led the rest of his company to another spot.

"Dig here," he ordered. His men did as he directed, taking turn’s every five minutes so they wouldn’t tire out too quickly. In less then 15 minutes they hit another hole in the debris, allowing Mike to go down the 10 feet James had told him to go. His men lowered him down; waiting and hoping their Captain was right about this.

"Can anyone hear me down there?" he shouted at the top of his lungs. Suddenly he heard several, low voices screaming back at him.

"I hear them," he shouted up to his friends in excitement. "Several of them, maybe five or six. Get more help."

In less then a minute his small group of volunteers had turned into an army of men and women, struggling to free those trapped below. Mike stayed with them, directing the efforts and making sure they brought them out alive. After nearly 5 hours of digging, the first of the seven survivors were pulled out. A loud roar of cheers and clapping hands rose from the war zone, as each survivor was pulled out of the tomb. When the last one was out, Mike turned and walked back to where James was still trapped.

"Come on, men," he shouted with determination. "We still have one more left to free." His men followed, but stopped short when they saw the chief standing next to the hole looking grim.

"What’s going on?" Mike asked directly.

"Mike," the fire chief started out. "Why don’t you and your men take a break."

"We still have to get our brother out," he protested vigorously.

"Mike," his boss answered sadly as he placed his hand on the fireman’s shoulder. "I had a doctor go down there to check the young man out – James is dead, and he’s been dead for several days now. He must’ve been killed when the building collapsed around him."

"But I JUST TALKED TO HIM A FEW HOURS AGO!" Mike yelled back in frustration as he pushed the chief away. He grabbed the rope and started to climb into the hole. A couple of his men started to move forward to stop him but the fire chief put an end to their efforts.

"Let him go," he said sadly. "He has to find out for himself."

Mike dropped to the bottom of the open pit and lurched himself into the small, dark hole. "Don’t worry, James, I’m coming for you," he shouted. His announcement was greeted with silence. "Come on buddy, talk to me!" Still there was no answer.

When he got to where he needed to be, the fireman twisted his body and sat upwards. "Talk to me James, let me know that you’re okay."

Mike pointed his flashlight at the young man, only this time he saw a very different figure. The young fireman was lying there in the darkness, his month and eyes wide open with dry blood covering his clothes and face. There was no sign of life.

"No," Mike whimpered. "No, you were alive just a little while ago. No, you can’t be dead, you can’t!"

Mike lowered his head in shock and disbelief against what had once been a desk. He had just talked to him, had even seen him smile. How could he be dead now? Suddenly a bright light filled the darkness, and when Mike looked up his saw the glowing figure of a lovely young woman with long, flowing hair. She was dressed in a long, white robe and had one of the most loving smiles the fireman had ever seen before.

"Mike," she smoothed, "It’s okay brother, I’m okay."

"Who – who are you?" Mike asked emotionally, knowing he was taking to a ghost.

"I’m James, but when I was off-duty I went by the name of Jammie. You see Mike, I was a transsexual, a woman trapped inside a man’s body, much like I was trapped inside this fallen building. Now that I’m dead, I can enter the afterlife as my real self. However, as my last act as a fireman, I wanted to save the others before I left this earth."

"Are there any more left?" Mike asked tearfully.

"I’m afraid not," Jammie answered. "There was a great loss of life here, but those who died, the innocent ones, are on the other side now. They want you to know how much they appreciate your efforts here, and the prayers from those around the world. They can feel the great outpouring of love and concern for them. They’re happy now Mike, you don’t need to worry about them anymore. They know one day they’ll be reunited with their love ones again. Now I must join them."

"Please, don’t go," Mike whimpered. "I need you – I need your comfort!"

"I’m must go," she smiled sadly, knowing how her fellow fireman must be feeling. "You’re angry and worried Mike, and even a little scared; so let me reassure you my brother. There will be more attacks, and more pain that follows. However, in the end the love of our people, the peace-loving people of the earth that is, will defeat the darkness that has risen up this day. This isn’t about one country fighting another; it’s about an idea of what’s right and wrong –of hate against love. I don’t know if you’ll live to see the end of it, but keep the faith my brother, love will always defeat hate in the end – ALWAYS! Goodbye, my brother, goodbye. I’ll see you again one day."

Mike watched as Jammie smiled one last time and vanished from sight. Wracked with emotion, the fireman made his way out of the hole and with the help of his fellow rescuers, climbed out of the pit.

"It’s okay, Mikey," one of his fellow firefighters said, calling him by his nickname. He gave his brother firefighter a hug of support."

"Yes, it is," Mike replied staunchly as he sat down on a chuck of concrete close by. He put his hands up to his face and began crying bitter and joyful tears.

 

*May the victims of this tragedy find peace in the coming days – with love and emotional hugs, Kelly Davidson

 

 

 

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© 2001 by Kelly Davidson. All Rights Reserved. These documents (including, without limitation, all articles, text, images, logos, compilation design) may printed for personal use only. No portion of these documents may be stored electronically, distributed electronically, or otherwise made available without express written consent of the copyright holder.