User blog comment:Stormbaron/USA/@comment-3084244-20110912043034

I was 8 years old. I lived in North Dakota but my father was in New York City (My parents are divorced) I was calling him on the new cellphone I got from him. He was so happy to hear from me and told me that he had gotten a new job of repairing a church across the street from the North Tower, I was skipping school that day, suddenly the phone caught a loud boom from the cellphone and everthing went to static. I ran upstairs and all I saw was smoke and clouds on the news, I caught a glimpse of the church and was worried as I couldn't tell which one was my dad. My dad helped people into that church before the building collapsed. The church survived and my dad helped save a few lives. But, if you're all wondering, this is why I've been gone for a while...