September 11, 2001, I was sitting in my living room watching the news and drinking a cup of coffee. Within minutes, my life and the lives of millions of others around the world changed. The first plane hit the World Trade Center and I hoped that it was just an accident, like the Empire State Building being flown into nearly a century earlier. Within minutes I received a call from literally halfway around the world, Nigeria, from my father who told me to turn on my TV. “The Trade Center has been hit.” We briefly talked about the personal consequences that this would have if it were in fact a terrorist action. He bid me farewell and said that if I had to go off as a result of my Reservist status to be careful and that he and my mother were proud of me.

There I sat glued to the TV watching my life unfold on the pixilated screen. As soon as I saw the second plane hit in New York I knew that this was an attack. Within seconds I was on the phone calling my girlfriend to see if she was aware of what had just happened and let her know the immediate impact it would have on our lives; my likely departure to someplace in response to these attacks. The next call I made was to my unit, U.S. Coast Guard Port Security Unit 305 (an anti-terrorism unit) to see if there was any word on what we should do. They told me to “standby” until a definitive word came out.

I decided to make myself useful and begin to get all the necessary military gear out and pack it so I could be ready to go at a moment's notice. This was harder than I expected because I didn’t know if I would need desert gear or woodland gear. Should I bring civilian clothes, in case we had to fly commercially? This packing kept me busy until the next plane crashed, this time at the Pentagon. Right away I got back on the phone to check on a friend’s stepfather, who I had eaten Thanksgiving with a year before, who worked in the wing that was hit. After getting the word that my friend’s stepfather had been transferred a month before, I got off the phone, trying to keep it open if my Unit called.

Next, I made a list of important numbers that my girlfriend would need when, not if, I was deployed. I also tried to calm my stomach, which was responding to all the stress that it was exposed to in such a short time. Suddenly I felt even sicker as I watched the first of the World Trade Center Buildings collapse. I did not know what to do or how to respond… whom should I be mad at? Moments later my Jordanian neighbor walked by and I asked how he was. I knew that there was a chance that people would unjustly attack or oppress him because of his background and wanted to see if I could help him. He said that the only thing that he feared was that someone would attack his wife, who dressed in the traditional outfits, and that she was out at class now. I offered to go meet her and escort her home if he thought it was a good idea. He thanked me but declined and went into his house to watch what was happening .

Just then the phone began to ring and a chill struck me. As I answered the phone I wondered what to expect and felt relieved that it might be my Unit calling to let me know our plan. Instead, it was my sister calling to encourage My girlfriend and I to hang in there and to go show our support for the Arab community by going out for Middle Eastern food that night. I thanked her and told her that I had to go because I was expecting a recall notice.

The rest of the day I watched the events unfold on TV and waited in anticipation of a recall. The day dragged on and I did not know how to feel or what to do with myself. I knew that I wanted to spend as much of my time left with my girlfriend and explain to her that she was going to be the one lifeline I would depend on once I was deployed. As day turned to night I still found myself waiting for word from the Coast Guard, so I decided to try and get some sleep.

As soon as I had fallen asleep the phone rang, it was 11:42 PM, and I was told to be at the unit in the morning ready to go to New York City. We were to go provide “force protection” and prevent further attacks in New York. Two days later, on September 13, we arrived in New York, to the smell of a city ablaze. Burnt plastic and metal loomed in the air as a constant reminder of why we were there and what had happened to our nation two days earlier.