My name is Silas Mouskewitz.  They call me "Mouse" for short.

I survived the attacks on September 11, 2001.  It left me a paraplegic, but the thing is this: I survived.  By Yeshua's grace, I survived. 

While I no longer have legs that work, I am still able to get around and go to my job, where I own a delicatessan here in the heart of New York City.  It is a very busy place and I have made many friends among the customers that frequent my store.

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My name is M'Kaya Jefferson.  I live here in New York City, where I am raising my family: I have a preteen son and a toddler daughter who are the lights of my life.  I am also married to a wonderful man, Franklin, who makes sure we have what we need.  He is a physical therapist and works many hours, but we never have to worry about money.  We are living a very comfortable life.

Yet 11 years ago, it was very different.  I was injured in the attacks on September 11, 2001, and that night, I developed complications which resulted in hospitalization and the subsequent amputation of my leg.  It was a very hard time for me; I still suffer from nightmares occasionally, but by God's grace, I've been able to move on and pick up the pieces of my life.

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Call me Tony.  I am a cab-driver here in the mean streets of New York City.  I lost my co-workers in the attacks at the World Trade Center; I barely made it out alive myself.  I suffered burns over 40% of my body, but I got out when rescuers found me amidst all the rubble.  I don't know why I survived, but God has plans for me.

After I recovered, I became a cabbie.  I figure I was put on this earth to serve people.  And I am doing just that to the best of my ability.  When people remark about my scars, I tell them they're my badges of courage because they remind me that I am a survivor.  If I can survive being burned and buried alive, then I'm here to tell you: anybody can survive just about anything if they put their minds to it.

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Faith Hill is my name.  No, I am not THE Faith Hill, the country singer; it's just that she and I happen to have the same name.  Besides, I don't even LOOK like her (nor can I sing).

I lost four of my co-workers at the South Tower when the plane hit; I barely got out alive myself.  Thankfully I was able to escape before it really got bad; I thank my lucky stars (and God) each and every day.  While my co-workers will never come back to life, I survived and I thank God for each and every day that I wake up.

I still have nightmares now but I have channeled most of my energies into writing about my experiences.  I am currently writing a book about what I went through in the hopes that it can help other survivors of traumatic events such as September 11, 2001.

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Duke's the name.  Duke Washington. 

I am now blind as the result of September 11, 2001.  I was very agnry for the longest time; even took up drinking and drugs; figured that I could drink or numb the pain away.  I then met Jesus Christ and my life hasn't been the same since.

I have since forgiven the attackers behind the devastation; in the long run it's helped me to heal as well.  I have been going to counseling for years and am now focusing on helping others.  I have become a counselor myself and am counseling other people.  It has come full circle and God has been blessing me tremendously.

I have since found a woman; we got married and we now have a family.  She has given me two precious baby boys, who are two years old.  Gavin and Galen, two of the cutest, handsomest babies this side of New York City.  I love them both with all my heart and my wife .... well, I can't say too many good things about her.  She is my all in all, my very life, my everything!

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I am Rita.  I am 35 years old.

I survived September 11, 2001.  It left me with brain damage.  I was badly hurt.  I can no longer work; I get disability pay.  My mommy lives with me; she takes care of me.  I love her with everything I have.

I used to work and go to school but can no longer do so.  I have been learning how to write and read; it's like I have the mind of a little kid just starting kindergarten.  It's been very hard, but maybe it's a good thing I can't remember much of what has happened to me.

I can't walk that well, so I use a wheelchair.  It's much easier for me.  I can walk a little, but with crutches, but I usually use my wheelchair. 

People ask me all the time about what happened, but I tell them I don't remember (Mommy says I don't want to talk about it, which I don't; don't want to have bad dreams about it).

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Name's Fred.  I survived the attacks of September 11, 2001.  I was hurt, but compared to a lot of people, I got off easy.  Yet I can't forget: my mind's messed up; it's like a busted record: it keeps replaying the scenes over and over in my head.  I wish I could forget; guess this is why I drink so much.

I used to have a place of my own, but ended up on the streets, where I still remain.  But it's okay: I got my homies lookin' out for me (and I know that I can forget, at least for a while). 

Some people ahve been talkin' to me 'bout Christ, but I don't know if I'm ready yet.  I mean, how could He love a homeless bum like me?  How could He take away the pain in my heart, or the bad memories?  How could He make me stop drinking or drugging myself up?  I just don't understand how He can make things better 'cause up to now, my life's been nothing but shambles.

~To be continued.~