In celebration of the life of

Michael T. Carroll
a friend, a father, a firefighter

We lost a good one on 9/11/2001. We still miss you, Mike.

FDNY Ladder Company 3 fire truck, partially destroyed
in the September 11, 2001 attacks on the World Trade Center, is raised by a crane before being lowered into
an opening in the World Trade Center site below ground level as part of the permanent installation exhibit in the
9/11 Memorial and Museum in New York July 20, 2011.
The 9/11 Memorial and Museum at the World Trade Center opens on the 10 year anniversary of the attacks on September 11, 2011. REUTERS/Mike Segar

THE TEARS REACHED HEAVEN

by Mary Bower

Our children changed that day
they suddenly lost their innocence,
and reality that war had touched our borders came true.

The children carried jugs of water to load the trucks,
the children brought their own money,
the children gave hope as their tears reached heaven.

No longer did we question in our minds, "Where is God?"
For we knew the tears of the
children were being seen by him, the smoke
had reached his nostrils, and we knew it was
time to pray and pray, for the children's tears
had reached heaven.

We lost two of our family namesakes that day,
then one came home alive and again we found hope,
for the children's prayers had reached heaven.

Mary C. Bower,
copyright 2001

This poem has won the INTERNATIONAL MERIT AWARD FOR POETRY for 2001.

Dedicated to Michael and Peter Carroll, NYC firefighters killed in the WTC in the line of duty. To Heather Mercer, whom God sent home.

 September 11, 2010: For Brendan Carroll,
a special moment on a tough day

 Sports Illustrated Vault, December 24, 2001
"TRUE HEART" by Michael Bamberger

NINE ELEVEN

by Nicole Sohn, Grade 8
Falcon Cove Middle School, Weston Florida

As I reminisce about this tragic day,
My mind becomes speechless with nothing to say.
As I think back in total disbelief,
My heart is hurting with constant grief.
I remember when America was relaxed and calm,
Then the event occurred and everything went wrong.
Pandemonium and chaos filled the air,
Overwhelming numbers of people were weeping with despair.
An abundance of lives were stolen that day,
Children became abandoned, numerous left astray.
Widows and widowers population increased,
The day the Towers were hit by a heartless beast.

It was two thousand-one, September eleven,
The day that thousands were sent to heaven.
If only they had known what was awaiting them that day,
Maybe they would have done something different in some way.
Maybe give a tighter hug,
Or maybe set free a captured bug.
Maybe say their last "goodbye,"
And tell their loved ones not to cry.
Maybe accomplish their one last goal,
Or confess a mistake to cleanse their soul.
Maybe they'd wish upon their last shooting star,
Maybe take a trip to a land that's bizarre.
Maybe achieve their life-long dream,
Maybe take an adventure beyond the extreme.
Some may just want to say a last prayer,
And tell their family they're watching from up there.
Maybe they'd want one last kiss,
Or try to explain tomorrow amiss.

They say no one sees a rainbow without going through rain,
You can't make it to heaven without some pain.
We praise the heroes whose lives they gave,
For "The Land of the Free, and the Home of the Brave."