Ever since I was a young boy, I dreamt of becoming a firefighter. I wanted to help save people from the danger and be a hero to people.

I became a fireman as I wished and devoted my entire life fighting fires, saving people from burning buildings, putting off fire on mountains in New York City. I felt proud every time I saved people's lives and made a big difference in this world.

When I turned 66 years old, I knew it was time for me to retire and let the next generation of firemen to take over. So I did. I retired and moved to Brooklyn to start enjoying my retirement.

On the morning of Septermber 11th, 2001, I was listening to the radio in the morning as usual. All of a sudden, I was hearing about the World Trade Center being demolished by hijacked planes. Then I thought to myself. "I gotta get there to go save people. I can't stay here."

I grabbed my old fire gear and got on a train to go to Manhattan. When people saw my gear, they asked if the tower was going to collapse. To that I said, "Nah, we just go up, knock the fire down and go home". I didn't want them to get worried sick so I lied.

When I got there, I couldn't believe my eyes. There were so much smoke and the area was a ghost town - littered with dust, shoes, clothes, and other debris. I got to work right away, helping to man fire hydrants and extinguish fires around the perimeters of the building.

Instinctively, I felt something bad was going to happen. And before I knew it, a large debris fell on me and I collapsed. I felt an extreme pain in my shoulder. At then I was on my hands and knees and was waiting to die. Then I remembered. "I have to live...live for others. They need me."

I relied on my training as a firefighter to pull myself out of the rubble and debris. I was covered in dust and soon I was taken to the hospital. I was able to get treatment on my dislocated shoulder and walk out of there shortly. However, I still felt as if I didn't do the job I came to do. So I went back to the scene.