It was September 11th and I woke up about 7am west coast time. The sun was shining and I could hear my youngest son in the kitchen. I looked out of the window thinking that I could get used to live in California. The sun is always shining, the beach is 10 minutes away and everything seems so peaceful out here. It was the perfect day to have birthday. I went into the kitchen where my son had been an angel and made me breakfast. My favorite, French toast and turkey bacon. I took my time to talk with him and eat my breakfast. My oldest son came into the kitchen. ''Happy birthday dad!" he said and gave me kiss. ''Thanks son. Do your daddy a favor and turn the TV on. I want to see what is happening on my birthday.'' He turned the TV on and to my surprise I saw what my two sons and the whole world saw. Me and my children where chocked as we saw the airplanes fly into the buildings. My youngest son said: ''Daddy was there people in that building?'' I began to sweat and with a lump in my chest I heard his question but I couldn't bring my lips to say ''yes'' to him.
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