“I will always remember you,” Tadesse told Al.
“And I will never forget you. We’ve been through much together. I will pray for you and your country,” Al said.
“Thank you, brother. I’m happy it is here that you made friends with God.”
“So am I, but I am sorry that you will experience so much change in your life now. Do you still fear it?”
“Sometimes, but when I do, I ask God to give me hope. Hope takes away the fear,” Tadesse said as he nodded his head.
They exchanged letters for a year, until Al received one from Tadesse saying that he was going away and that Al shouldn’t write to him anymore. Al thought it must have had something to do with the anti-American stance of the new government, which was made clear when Peace Corps pulled out of Ethiopia at about the same time Al received Tadesse’s last letter.
Years later, Al came across a quote from a 1966 Haile Selassie speech to the World Evangelical Congress in Berlin: “A rudderless ship is at the mercy of the waves and the wind, drifts wherever they take it, and if there arises a whirlwind, it is smashed against the rocks and becomes as if it has never existed. It is our firm belief that a soul without Christ is bound to meet no better fate.”
The image of Al reading Haile Selassie’s speech faded slowly as Al smiled and said, “Amen,” before it disappeared completely in a puff of smoke, leaving darkness and silence.
CHAPTER 65
A Ghost of a Chance
Meanwhile back at Ground Zero, John had been searching for his father, Al, for about an hour before he overheard a firefighter on the street talking to another about a colleague who had been in Tower One when it came down. It drew John’s attention because his dad had also been in Tower One.
“It’s a damn shame about Steve,” the young, burly, blonde firefighter told his colleague. “His last radio message said he was on the fifth floor staircase with a businessman and a woman.”
“Yeah, then the whole damn thing came down on them,” replied the older, bald, firefighter in disgust as he closed his eyes and shook his head.
“They were just about home free but… Now they’re buried under all that shit.”
“Did you happen to see this man come out of Tower One before it crashed?” John interrupted as he showed them Al’s photo.
“Sorry, no,” they both replied. “But, that doesn’t mean anything. A lot of people got out and he could have been one of them. We couldn’t see their faces; they were all covered with ashes and looked like ghosts.”
A more hopeful John continued on his way until he got a phone call from his mother, Helen.
“John, you… you can come home now. Your father is… he’s gone,” Helen wept. She had finally lost all hope and felt so alone.
“What…!? How do you know?”
“I… I checked with his phone company. They are getting… getting a signal from his phone and pin-pointed it to… to the middle of Tower One,” she said with great pain.
“But maybe he’s alive under all the rubble, mom. Don’t give up hope. Don’t give up on dad,” John said with a shrill.
1 Carolyn Joyce Carty Copyright 1963–2008. Used by permission of reprint public domain property 2008.
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