I was staying at my friend Melissa's house because my ex had become a stalker and I had to change my routine. In the morning, she called from work. I was still asleep because I worked nights at Misericordia then. She said "New York has been bombed, the Pentagon was hit, they think Chicago is next. They are shutting down the city."

She had no TV, so I was glued to the radio, not knowing what was going on, other than they attacked New York and we were next. I called Christi and woke her up, telling her.

When Melissa came home, we drove to a pizza parlor to eat because they had a TV. We watched over and over again as the buildings fell.

We drove to my apartment, met up with Christi and Neftali, and watched more TV. Those buildings kept falling. Standing, then falling. That man falling out of the window. You could see his tie flipping in the air behind him.

Melissa and I drove to many different hospitals to donate blood, and they all turned us away because there were too many people volunteering.

We bought some beer, got drunk and celebrated what we thought might be our last night alive.

This day, five years ago, lit the fire in me to find out why. Why were we hated? What role did our country have? Our government? Simple hatred of our freedoms made no sense. This day started in me a change.

And five years later, I can sit down with anyone and explain why.