September 15th, 2001.
"That moment was when I learned the importance of words. Whether you may be angry, sad, or happy, you must use your words wisely. Love everyone, and tell them so every day"(George Phoenix.)
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Morning of September 11th, 2001.
Phoenix went to the cafeteria to get his usual coffee, milk and Danish. Returning from the café with his food, he entered into an elevator heading to his office on the 67th floor.
The tight space was uncomfortably cold and silent, with extremely strange yet catchy elevator music playing. Prior to work he had gotten into an argument with his wife and as he slowly sipped his coffee savoring every ounce of it, he was contemplating the words he would say to her when he returned home. Five other men crowded into the elevator: Four were everyday workers in the twin towers, and the other was the monthly window washer. The smell of cleaning products and expensive cologne began to take over the air. You could see it on every face waiting for their stop that it was about to be a long day.
The drawn out elevator ride was almost over. Only eighteen more floors to go and it would be time for him to sit down and rest his body. Suddenly, as the elevator hit the 50th floor, there was a large “boom” and the elevator began to bang violently from side to side. One of the men reached over and pressed the emergency button. As they all sat frustrated and worried waiting for a response, they became incredibly antsy. After what seemed like an agonizing amount of time, the operator informed them frantically that the building was under attack, and the loud “boom” they heard was a plane crashing into the building. The mood of the elevator drastically transformed from frustration to pure fear.
As the smoke quickly became overwhelming, George instinctively grabbed his hanker chief and dipped it into his milk. He recalled once being