Parker Elizabeth Ryan

Sean finished setting up the camera in his history classroom and looked up at Miss Ryan as she stood before him. In front of her on the desk was a wooden box.

"You ready?" Sean asked.

She took a deep breath. "As I'll ever be," she said and Sean started the camera.

"What's in the box?" Sean asked first.

"Mementos from that day," Parker replied. "I haven't been in this box since I put Alan's ring in it about three months after the date. They found his body and was able to identify it that way."

"Why were you there?"

"Alan, my husband, and I had an early breakfast at Windows on the World," she replied. "Alan worked at Cantor Fitzgerald, but we had never been so I took my camera with a fresh roll of film to take pictures."

"Did you get some good ones?"

"I don't know," she replied. "I could never bring myself to get the film developed." She tapped the box. "So I put it in there."

Sean nodded. "Go on if you can."

Parker swallowed then did just that. "I left at about 8:30 and took the elevator," she said. "I was going to go all the way down but as soon as the elevator started down, I realized I had to go to the bathroom. I pushed a button for a floor we hadn't passed just yet and got off. I had barely finished and was getting ready to get back on the elevator when the plane hit. We felt the building shake and looked out the window to see if we could see what was happening. Smoke was billowing from the building above us, but we didn't know what was going on. Then somebody smelled the jet fuel."

"What did you do?"

"Some people were unsure, so I told everybody the best course of action was to start down the stairs," Parker said. "The whole time, I was silently praying that Alan would be OK." She opened the box and took out a roll of film. "I took pictures, knowing that the day was to live in history, even though I didn't yet know what had happened or what would happen." She handed the roll to him. "Why don't you go get them developed?"

"Sure," Sean said as he took it. "What happened next?"

She shrugged. "We started down the stairs. I don't even know how much time passed before we heard and felt the other plane crash. We ran out onto the 50th floor to look out the window in time to see the cloud of fire blossom from the South Tower above us." She fiddled with the latch on the box. "We started going faster on our journey down, but I stopped on every floor to make sure everyone was leaving and no one needed help. We kept seeing firefighters going up and carrying hoses to fight the fire above us. We even ran across a cop or two. When the South Tower fell, we felt the building we were in shake and the lights flashed. I kept checking each floor and somehow ended up alone…" she looked up at Sean. "Now this is where it gets kind of fuzzy. I think I was only five or so floors from the lobby when a piece of something from above broke loose and slammed into me." She lifted a piece of her hair to show a long scar along her hairline. "It cut my head good and broke my hip. I thought I was dead then and there…"

"But you're here," Sean said.

"I wouldn't be if I hadn't been discovered by two men," she said. "One of them had a bandanna covering his face and he gave me a handkerchief to cover mine." She pulled a dirty cloth stained with blood from the box. "He picked me up and carried me out where we were able to take cover in time for the North Tower to fall."

Sean took the cloth from her hands and examined a bit with embroidery. He fingered it carefully, sweeping his thumb over the initials that were so familiar to him. FXR. He handed it back.

"I had blood coming from my head and running into my eyes and I couldn't walk so they took me to the church…," she stopped. "St. Paul's chapel. From there, I went to St. Benjamin's Hospital." She looked far off. "I remember a woman cleaning my cut and talking about her infant son…" She shook her head and looked at Sean who had a funny look on his face. "What?"

Sean shook his head as if to shake off the memories of the day. "If you could meet the people who saved you," he began. "What would you say?"

"Face to face?" she asked and Sean nodded. "I'd thank them for saving my life."

Sean smiled at her. "What else is in the box?"

"My camera," she said as she pulled the item out. "I think it might have taken one last picture after I got hit. It's broken beyond repair."

Next she pulled out a pair of rings bound together by a ribbon. One was blackened while the other bent into an oval. "These are our wedding bands. Both were damaged." Sean nodded as she took one last thing out. The badge was bent and tarnished. "This came off one of the men who saved me. I found it in my lap at the hospital." She paused as Sean fingered the surface of the object. The number on its face was not familiar to Sean, but he thought he might know who it had belonged to. "I thought about trying to find them," she went on. "To return the badge and the handkerchief, but I didn't know if I had the strength to open the box again, let alone do such a search."

"You obviously found that strength," Sean pointed out. He was on the verge of tears, but held them at bay. "Is there anything you want to add?"

"Just let me know how much the films costs," she replied as she carefully replaced the items in the box. "And I'll reimburse you."

Sean nodded and turned the camera off.