What If? … No, What When?

The morning was like any other. I woke, went down to the local deli to get my usual egg sandwich and took my dog for his morning walk. I had a few chores to do that day, and one of them involved going down to the Apple Store at Roosevelt Field to register my AppleCare pack for my iTouch.

I got to the mall just before 1:00 and spoke with one of the sales reps at the store. After several attempts to register the product on his computer, he finally printed out a document with my product’s serial number along with a fax number and said I would have to fax it along with a copy of my receipt of purchase.

I was a bit frustrated at having to drive all the way down there only to be told that I would have to go back home and register it manually. I walked around the mall’s food court. Since it was lunch time I thought I’d kill two birds with one stone and grab a bite. Problem was despite a plethora of choices I wasn’t all that hungry. I finally left the mall and headed toward my car, which was parked about 50 or so yards from the south entrance right by Macy’s.

No sooner had I gotten into the car and put my key into the ignition than I felt an incredible pressure hit me right in the solar plexus that immediately took the wind out of me. The windows of my car exploded and a sound that I can only describe as reminiscent of a subway train pulling into a station only a hundred times louder popped both my eardrums. It was like being thrown into the middle of a war zone with no warning.

I threw open my door and hit the ground petrified. I shouted out, “What the f***!” I looked up and saw an immense cloud of smoke and fire coming from the direction of the mall. Debris was raining down all around me and there was nowhere to hide. I thought about crawling back inside my car but there was glass all over the seats.

I instinctively ran away as fast as I could along with a throng of people, some with burned and torn clothing, all screaming, or at least that’s what it looked liked. In the explosion I lost my hearing and couldn’t hear their screams.

I had run as fast and as far as I could, all the way to Stewart Avenue, before turning around. What I saw stunned me. The whole of Roosevelt Field was engulfed in a massive wall of flame. It poured out of the structure as though it were a tanker set ablaze. As my hearing began to return gradually I could hear the shrills of the people around me who were hysterical, but I could also hear from what must’ve been a half mile or so, the screams of the souls who must’ve been still inside, and I could also hear the flames that were engulfing the whole of the mall.

I was in a state of shock, but I was also quite cognizant of the fact that what I was witnessing was the worst calamity to befall the country since 9/11. I had no idea who might have done this or why, but I knew the horrific nature precluded the possibility of an accident. This was deliberate. We were under attack, again!

All I could think of was reaching my wife Maria to see if she was OK. I reached for my phone, but in the blast it had been ripped from my belt cover and was gone. I also noticed I was bleeding around my ears and arms. I was covered in the dust from the debris that rained down all over the parking lot.

I was scared and disoriented. I could hear the emergency vehicles as they arrived on the scene. I began wandering aimlessly along Stewart Avenue wondering how I was going to get home. I couldn’t believe what my eyes and ears were telling me. I had seen the images of the terrorist attacks that September morning, and saw the throng of people rushing over the Brooklyn Bridge but, while they were gut wrenching, not until that afternoon did I know the horror of what those people went through. You don’t know if you’re going to live or die, and every sense in your body is hyper sensitive. It’s as though you’re existing out of time. I was on pure adrenaline.

Eventually, after a time, I made it to the Meadowbrook Parkway. All northbound traffic had been diverted at Zeckendorf Blvd. Glen Cove might as well have been in China for all the good it did me. All roads around the mall were either closed or were diverting traffic away from where I needed to go. I walked – it was more a stagger – eastward and northward toward Best Buy on Old Country Road. Everyone I passed was staring at the wall of flame and smoke coming from Roosevelt Field. Eventually someone noticed me and saw that I was obviously in need of medical treatment. He put me in his car and drove me to the hospital.

I kept muttering for him to take me home, but he insisted I needed to get medical help. Once at the hospital I was admitted to the emergency room. I managed to get one of the nurses to give me her cell phone and I called Maria. She was hysterical but was relived that I was alive. She drove down as fast as she could to be with me, and stayed at my side while my wounds were treated. While in the emergency room I couldn’t help but think how fortuitous it was that I did not stop to eat lunch that afternoon. I would’ve been right in the middle of the mall when the explosive went off and more than likely I would’ve been killed.

After being treated for minor cuts, I was released and Maria drove me home. When we got home we both hugged one another and cried our eyes out, grateful to God that I was alive and well. Many people that day weren’t nearly as fortunate and many of them met their maker.

Over the next few days we learned that more than 1,500 people were killed, and another 500 or so suffered third degree burns. The explosive was placed in the basement directly under the food court and went off at 1:15 P.M. The blast blew a crater more than 200 feet in diameter and 100 feet deep, completely demolishing the main section; the ensuing inferno consumed most of the mall. Many around the epicenter were either immediately killed or were burned to death within seconds after the blast. The Taliban took credit for the attack, the second worst in U.S. history. Our worst fears were realized; what we were praying wouldn’t happen finally came to pass. America once more was hit and once more the face of terrorism reared its ugly head and claimed more innocent lives.

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Now obviously, none of this happened. Yet. Though I did in fact visit the mall to register my itouch, and I did indeed leave before eating lunch, all the events that appeared above were the figment of my morbid imagination. But don’t think for a moment that this scenario cannot become a reality.

Just Saturday someone drove a Nissan Pathfinder right into the heart of the theater district of Manhattan loaded with explosives in an obvious terrorist attack attempt. The attempt failed and, as we speak, the driver is being hunted. Though we don’t at present know who is responsible, the Taliban have taken credit for the attempt. And while the nation may have dodged a bullet this time, experts agree it is only a matter of time before a successful attack is carried out. No matter what precautions we take as a nation, eventually those who hate us will get through our defenses. A bomb will go off and people will be killed.

The neocons and the vast right-wing ideologues have had a field day over the last 24 hours ripping the Administration and liberal Democrats for being weak on the War on Terror and for making America vulnerable to attack. We were lucky. What about next time? Once more we are being subjected to the same cheap rhetoric that we had to endure after the last attack. In the months after 9/11 the nation, lost in the grip of xenophobic fear, succumbed to the bassist of its prejudices and sold out its very laws and values in a vain attempt to feel more secure. An illegal war was fraudulently launched, thousands of civilians were killed, and hundreds of suspects were unjustly rounded up and detained in a clear violation of both our Constitution and international law. Fake patriotism ruled the day as the mainstream media reneged on its responsibility as the guardians of truth.

One can only surmise what will happen the next time we are attacked. And there will be a next time. The only question that begs to be answered is not what, when, where, or how the attack will be launched, but rather what our response as a nation will be. Evil will always exist and seek to bring about paralyzing fear. That is the essence of terror itself. The Terrorists know that. They know they cannot kill all of us; their only hope is to bring us to our knees and force us to compromise the very thing that separates us from, and at the same time threatens, them: our way of life.

We cannot give them their victory. Death is inevitable; but fear of death is an option, one that we cannot afford. Throughout our illustrious history we have met many external challenges from formidable opponents and we have defeated every single one of them. But the greatest challenge now lies not from without but from within. If we are up to that challenge, the terrorists can never win.