Street Stories - A Ringside Seat To Over 4 Decades Of Taking Jesus To The Streets Of The World

of one of the World Trade Center towers where fire and dark black smoke were billowing from the side. There was a large, gaping hole in the side of the building we could see as the TV cameras were fixed on this tragic site. American Airlines Flight 11 had been hijacked and deliberately flown into the North Tower, World Trade Center 1. The plane plowed into floors 93 to 99. Before we could call Brenda back, Dot’s phone rang again. Brenda wanted me to come back to the airport immediately and pick them up so they could get their car and drive to Alabama. Fortunately, Love Field was just a short drive from Granny’s house, and I got there within minutes. I might have been dodging traffic and speeding just a little bit. As I pulled up to the passenger pick-up area, pandemonium was breaking out. Dozens of Dallas Police personnel, flanked by their cruisers with red lights flashing, were beginning to place wooden barricades across all entrances to and exits from the airport. Fire trucks, blaring their horns and sirens, lights flashing, were rushing up to the front of the airport. Thankfully, I quickly spotted Brenda and W.V. waiting in the crush of the crowd at the pick-up area, so I swooped in and picked them up and we escaped the airport just as it was being completely shut down. On the way back to Granny’s, I told them what we had seen on TV regarding an American Airlines jet crashing into the Twin Towers. It was all so surreal, extremely hard to fathom. Within minutes of arriving back at Granny’s, Brenda and W.V. got into their car and headed out, driving 665 miles to Huntsville, Alabama to keep their

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