Twenty-one years and two days ago, I knew exactly where I was. That beautiful Tuesday morning, so sunny and bright, I took my oldest child to school. I was enjoying my last week of maternity leave in Brooklyn, New York. My hometown is safer now than when I was a teenager. I cherish many fond memories.
Close to 9 AM, my landline telephone was ringing. I rushed up the stairs with my infant to my apartment. I managed to answer the phone. My husband called me, screaming, “I’m all right, I’m all right.” Of course he was; he just left home an hour ago. His next sentence shattered the peace of the late summer day. My children and I were within 6 miles of a deadly terrorist attack. My husband was less than a mile away from the attack. On this pivotal, historic, and tragic day, our life permanently changed.
Jeff’s sleep was disturbed for the next nine months. Although our newborn slept through the night, I also experienced Jeff’s restlessness. One thing was certain: our family was not where we wanted it to be. We each engaged in deep soul searching. Although our motto was faith first, family second, friends and others third, we had become complacent. We resumed our family worship night. Furthermore, we prioritized meeting attendance at Salón del Reino de los Testigos de Jehová. Additionally, we camped at state parks and visited amusement parks with our daughters.
In the fall of 2003, Jeff’s health deteriorated. Eventually, he became a stay-at-home dad. Since we began dating in 1990, Jeff was prone to illness. Apparently, working less than a mile from Ground Zero following the aftermath affected his already compromised immune system. Soon thereafter, his parents encouraged him to practice interpreting. They provided him with contact information to register with a national agency. He enjoyed the work. In my heart, I knew how vital it was for Jeff to financially support his family.
We discussed moving to a warmer climate. We prayed about it. A plan took shape: sell our house, purchase one in and relocate to Greenville, South Carolina, and incorporate our business. Within a year, the plan was complete. We became “carpet-bagging Yankees.” If you need dependable interpreting, translation, or safety services, stop by our office. But not the old office. We moved! Blog post to follow.
