Escape from the World Trade Center by Haskin Leslie

Author:Haskin, Leslie [Haskin, Leslie]
Language: eng
Format: mobi
Tags: September 11 2001, 9/11, World Trade Center, survivor, consolation, suffering, post-traumatic stress disorder, terrorist attacks, New York City
Publisher: Bethany House Publishers
Published: 2011-08-01T04:00:00+00:00

Chapter 9

War Zone

Spiritual Wickedness

What I saw was more than humbling. It was completely and unequivocally self-stripping. This grand beauty that minutes before was strong and filled with magnificence and light was suddenly bare and broken. Shards of glass lay strewn beneath what once were beautiful walls of glass.

What remained of the glass revolving doors was red with bits and pieces of human flesh clinging to them. I was flabbergasted, but I kept moving. I walked around in a trance with others who, like me, were aware of what they saw but were unable to connect emotionally.

There were no flower planters or vendors outside the entrance anymore. Instead, there were chunks of broken stone, crushed benches, and huge peculiar objects glowing or still burning. There were fallen chandeliers and deserted security stations. There was no aroma of deli food or smell of maintenance, only fuel odor, piles of ash, and debris. All not burning, glowed with an intense heat. All not cut and weakened by a thousand jagged edges was not far from it. All that remained was desolation.

I covered my face with my hands and slowly bowed my head.

Movement caught my attention, and I looked up. It was then that I heard the scrambled radios and noticed police officers carrying victims and firefighters racing into the stairways. There they were—the cavalry—my knights.

One after the other those noble men ran toward the upper floors with little hope of survival and all the grace of God. They shouted to one another as they hurried about, and despite the distance between us, I saw dread in their faces. I saw years of training and rescue procedures boil down to that one moment. That moment that broke millions of hearts with a single falling tear or drop of blood heard from downtown New York City to the hills of California, the towers in Paris, and the deserts of Afghanistan.

I believe the rescuers knew what was waiting for them up those stairs. Their eyes said so. I believe they knew they wouldn’t return, and although there was no time for intense soul searching or contemplation, I saw them choose the ultimate sacrifice. I saw them! Radios ignored! Some with gear in hand and others with equipment resolutely unfastened and left behind; they began their climb upward and into the pages of history.

They tossed people down the stairs and to safety. They dragged bodies out of the way. They screamed, yelled, and shouted to us to keep moving. They scraped aside metal and glass. With bloodied fingers they moved obstacles while the Twins were getting beaten into total and complete surrender.

Put on the whole armour of God, that ye may be able to stand against the wiles of the devil. For we wrestle not against flesh and blood, but against principalities, against powers, against the rulers of the darkness of this world, against spiritual wickedness in high places. (Ephesians 6:11–12 kjv)

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