Unexpected moments in life provide unexpected plans for the future. Some people may be presented with unexpected gifts and blessings. Others may be presented with tragedies and loss. Although unexpected moments in life may be different from what others may encounter, they can always be alike. A change in our perspective, attitude, personality, or outlook on life may take place. The best thing about an unexpected moment is being introduced to new people.
Meeting John was completely unexpected, but it was an unexpected that brought me joy and happiness. He crept up on me before I could turn around. I was studying journalism and John was studying business at the University of Boston. He was a friend of a friend. I was completely focused on my studies and tried to avoid distractions, until an unexpected distraction entered my life. He completely swept me off my feet, and I fell head over heels in love with him. We began dating junior year. We graduated together, and two years later, we were married.

At the time, this unexpected moment was a good thing. John was offered a fabulous job at the World Trade Center. I was ecstatic to finally get out of Boston and go live in Manhattan. John's job was working out fabulously, and an unexpected surprise entered into our lives.

Matthew was born November 16th, 2000. We hadn't planned on him, but once I found out I was pregnant, we were overjoyed. We had been talking about kids for a while now, and now our first son had been born. He was our little bundle of joy. He radiated happiness and strengthened our love for one another. John and I had created a family.

September 11, 2001 was the day the most unexpected moment in my life occurred. Matthew was almost one years old, and he woke us up at about six in the morning. John got up and took care of Matthew. I'll never forget getting out of bed at 6:23. I remember seeing John calming Matthew, and making him laugh. I couldn't help but smile. John settled Matthew down and he eventually fell back asleep in his crib. I began to make coffee, but John stopped me and told me to go back to sleep. I obeyed and fell back asleep in my bed. At 7:06 John kissed my forehead and told me he was leaving for work. I told him goodbye and fell back asleep. John was then on his way to work in the South Tower of the World Trade Center.

At 7:47, I was woken up once again by Matthew's cry. I shimmied out of bed and picked Matthew up. I got him a bottle from the refrigerator and sat him down on his high chair. I turned to begin making coffee when I noticed it was already made. John didn't drink coffee, but he had made it for me this morning. I didn't even know he knew how to work the coffee maker. There was a note attached to my favorite coffee mug that read, "I don't understand why you need coffee to wake you up, because all I need is your beautiful smile. Love you, Mer! -John." I smiled at the letter and poured myself a cup of coffee. I fed Matthew and finished my cup of the caffeine. By that time, it was 8:19. I put Matthew's favorite movie in the VCR and got him settled. When he seemed calm enough, I went to take a shower. By the time I got out and was dressed, it was 8:36. Matthew was still in the same spot I had left him, enjoying his movie.

I grabbed the morning paper and read it while I let Matthew finish the rest of his movie. When Matthew's movie ended, it was 8:52. I shut off the VCR and turned on the news.


Smoke, fire, and panic flashed across my screen. A female reporter stood talking frantically, but I was too focused on the plane crashed into the North Tower behind her to hear anything she was saying. A million thoughts ran through my head. How could a plane accidentally crash into one of the twin towers? How could a pilot be so stupid? Everyone on that plane and people on the floors they crashed into had surely died. I knew John was in the South Tower. It was perfectly fine, but I still didn't feel safe with him inside. I sprinted to the phone docked on the wall in the kitchen and noticed I had three voicemails. I listened to the first message. It was from my sister, Melissa.

"Meredith! Meredith!" she said. "Is John okay? I know he works at the World Trade Center. I can't remember if he was in the North or South tower. I'm really worried please call me back." I heard a beep on the other end of the line. My sister had left me another message.

"Meredith, did you get my last message? Are you watching the news? Please call me back. PLEASE," she said. The familiar beep cut her off and I listened to the last message. It was from John.

"Meredith? Mer? I'm okay, sweetheart. They're on their way to get it all cleaned up. Don't worry about me. I'm fine. They want us to stay in the building. Everything's going to be okay. I'll see you when I get home," he said before hanging up quickly. The beep ended the voicemail and I stood there, frozen. No. I don't care if the South tower is fine, I wanted John out of there.


I ran over to the TV to see if anyone was beginning to clean up the disaster. It was 9:03.

This unexpected moment on September 11th, 2001 at 9:03 AM was the one that changed my life forever. A plane flew and crashed into the South Tower. The tower that my John was in. I screamed and my hand flew over my open mouth. I cried out with fear while Matthew began to cry hysterically. I stood there for a few moments hoping it was only a replay of a plane crashing into the North tower. It wasn't. This was a terrorist attack.

The phone began to ring and I sprinted over towards it. I pried the phone from the wall, hoping it was John.

"John? John?!" I cried out in fear, hoping to hear the familiar sound of his voice.

"Meredith! It's Melissa," my sister replied. I could hear the fear and worry in her voice. "Please tell me John is home. Oh, God, please tell me he's home. It's a terrorist attack, Meredith, oh, God," Melissa began to cry and I couldn't help it cry along with her. She loved John almost as much as I did. Our older brother had died when I was twelve and Melissa was ten. Melissa looked at John as her brother.

"He's there, Melissa," I said through my tears. "Oh, God, he's there and they told him to stay in the building. He...he left me a message and..." I began to cry again and Melissa tried to console me.

"Meredith, you need to call him, now. Go. Call me later, please," she said quickly before hanging up the phone. My hands trembled as I began to dial John's work number. The call didn't go through. I dialed his cell number. It rang once. Come on, John, pick up. It rang again. Oh, God, please pick up. It rang for a third time. Oh, God. It rang for a fourth time. Please be okay. God, please. It rang for a fifth and final time. It went straight to voicemail. I tried calling him three more times, but received the same response.

Meanwhile, Matthew was screaming. I ran to him and held him in my arms. There was nothing else I could do but hold my son in my arms and hope for a call from John saying everything was okay. I would never let anything happen to our son. I rocked him back and forth while we both cried. The time was 9:32.

My television suddenly informed me of what President Bush had to say about the two planes crashing into the World Trade Center. He said, "Today we've had a national tragedy. Two airplanes have crashed into the World Trade Center in an apparent terrorist attack on our country."

Although I had suspected that, I still cried out in fear. I feared for myself and for my son's life. Most of all, I feared for John and if he was okay. I decided to try and call John's cell phone number again.

I ran towards the phone, still clutching Matthew close to me. I still received no response from John. My head ached and I continued to sob. I sauntered back to the couch and continued to watch the action.

The news reporter informed me that firefighters and policemen were evacuating citizens from the towers. I prayed to God that they would get my John out of the tower. All of a sudden, citizens began escaping the tower, but not in the way I'd hoped. I saw footage of people throwing themselves from the burning floors of the towers. I cried out hoping that my John was not among them.

The time was 9:59. The South tower, holding my John and thousands of other citizens collapsed. Floor by floor, it traveled down to the ground. I held my breath. I was unable to breathe. The scream that was building up inside me refused to escape me. My John was dead.