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Since local gossip has only been able to askew any side of truth that happened with me on the police force nearly 2 years ago, I see this as good a time as any to finally settle the rumors, lies, and speculation of what really took place during 2007. I feel here, myspace, is just the place to tell my story and explain to the world exactly how I fell victim (if you could call me that) to being oust from what could have been potentially a very decent career. I'm thinking this story will take me a month or so to tell, with few day breaks in between and will hopefully finish my side by the time I get to the fleet. Not just because it seems appropriate and symbolic to do so, but also in case some readers choose to lynch me for telling... the truth.
I'm hoping people will admire the story, not only because I took the time to gather as much as I can on my own; but also because I'm going into detail on exactly what happened to me on that very depressing summer day.
Enjoy.
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While I'm sure some who have told me story, without knowing the whole thing and without my knowing of them doing so, they probably only set the clocks back a mere 2 years, when in truth one can start this story appropriately roughly 7.
On a bright September morning, I had just started my senior year of high school, and 19 Arabs with box cutters found it neccessary to crash 2 planes into the World Trade Center in New York and one in the Pentagon. This all started during Latin 201, if you could call me sitting in a class reading comics while Mr. Jackson (my Latin teacher) lectured, Latin 201. The first plane hitting and hundreds burning to their demise instantly was unknown to me for nearly a half hour until I was walking to my next class and heard whispers of what happened in the halls.
On my way to Second Period, which then was Global Issues, an appropriate class given the circumstance of that day, I stopped at my locker to switch comics, sip my Snapple (which could last me until lunch), and grab my notebook for class. On my way speculation was on the rise of what took place and people were giving their input of what happened even though they haven't heard or seen any reliable source. The stories were that a plane hit Tower 1 and it was either Suicide Bomber or a Tourist Plane that suddenly lost control.
I didn't think twice about either, I just wanted to read Green Lantern.
The fifth floor of Point Pleasant Beach High School was always my favorite, not only because it had the best classes, but because it was the most private, which is odd considering the school only had 300 students at the time. I arrived before the bell and took my seat for 2nd period Global Issues. Shortly thereafter Mr. DeCristafano arrived suitcase in hand ready for the day. It was long after that people started talking and I started getting curious. After much demands, kicking and screaming, and too many questions, Mr. D (which is what we all called him, that or D-Man) put on the news. A part of me wishes he didn't.
For the first time I saw the top-half of Tower One of the World Trade Center as a blazing inferno above the streets of Manhattan. To think I've been on the top of it several times throughout my youth made me cringe at the sight of it. I watched the footage live and in awe, wondering what exactly happened. The footage was surreal and all too hard to swallow, however it was nothing when I finally realized we were under attack; seeing the 2nd plane hit.
For the first time in my life, I could truly say I was scared, being only 60 minutes from where all this was happening made me wonder was something going to happen closer. It wasn't long after that a Special Report came on from Washington and news got out that the Pentagon was bombed. However, we later learned that a 747 hit instead and miscommunication was on the rise that day.
After 20 minutes or so, we began to talk, and word was on the rise that a man named Osama Bin Laden was taking credit for the attacks. We were curious as to what was happening and what was going to happen. Given that this was a Global Issues class, we took advantage of the situation and talked about why something like this would happen or why it happened to us. This event paved the way for the rest of Global Issues my Senior Year.
Class was dismissed shortly thereafter and I went back to my locker to sip my Snapple, switch books, and put my comic back. Given the situation that day I found it best not to leisurely read something like that during what some might consider the most important day in our nations history. Sadly we were put on lockdown and I was not allowed to go to lunch. We watched TV's in the cafeteria and I ate with my pals while we talked about what was going on. By then both towers have succombed to their fates as well did 3,000 innocent people.
The rest of the day was numb for me and when we were dismissed at 2:29 as we were everyday, I did not do as they told me and go straight home, but rather I took a walk around town. I stopped in my favorite CD Store at the time, Rockaway Beach, and bought 3 albums (Further Seems Forever, The New Amsterdams, and The Get-Up Kids). The walk through town on my way home was similar to the opening scene of "Vanilla Sky", where Tom Cruise wanders the streets alone.
When I arrived home I walked into the living room to see my mother on the couch, tv on, near tear and we talked about it. My dad came in not much later and I went up to my room to nap while I listened to my new music. We ordered pizza that night, I still remember, and I didn't bother bagging and boarding any new issues; I kept them aside until later.
Before the sun finally set my dad came knocking on my door and told me were going out. I asked where, and he said for a car ride. I didn't question it, mostly because I was too confused to make sense of the day. Seeing people burn alive and fall to their death will do that to a teenager. We got in his car, and drove off.
"Are you scared?" he asked me in a calm voice. I told him I wasn't sure, though I knew I was. I was more perplexed by it all than anything else, and we went into detail about how there's nothing wrong with being afraid sometimes, just as long as we don't let it get the best of us. We drove to the inlet and from there I could see the smoke off in the distance. I remember that more than anything else.
The rest of the night I surfed the web and talked on AIM with friends. Later I watched the President address the nation after a long day of hiding and reading childrens books. I went to bed and tried to sleep, I'd have trouble sleeping for the next 6 months.
School started the next morning and while the previous day was, and would be all the talk for a while; things were pretty normal again. I sipped my Snapple, read my comics, and tried went on being myself. However, something would happen that would change me forever; a friend - Andy Gunning.
Andy wasn't any ordinary friend from High School, he wasn't even a student, even though he was there everyday. After things like Columbine and most certainly 9-11, NJ enacted a law putting a police officer in every school in the state. Andy, Officer Gunning I called him at the time, was put in to keep order in things.
While he did, he also found adoration, as did I in him. He found me and the entourage of friends I was with to be the Ridgemont High class of Point Beach High. A group of friends from all different kinds and clicks. There was a stoner, wigger, surfer, bookworm, and me (the dork). We were all funny, and spent our lunches talking about everything, being cynical about all situations.
It wasn't long after that Andy started having his lunches with us and partaking in the daily pranks and conversations about what was going on. He became one of the group, and while I'm sure fraternization was not looked on nicely, he didn't seem to care. We grew close and nobody seemed to care.
It wasn't long after, he had all of us in mind for a future project he had planned: C.O.P.S. Coalition of Police and Students.
.... to be continued.
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