What's the Bigger Question

After 25 years, I’m still haunted by the jumpers.

I try to put myself in their shoes and wonder if I could make the same decision. They had to balance the heat, the inferno, the hell over the skies, and the hope that their souls would be caught before their bodies hit the ground, because the impact would most definitely end their lives.

Imagine hanging onto the building at the opening where a plane suddenly and forever changed your life. You have a view of the city that only you and your friends there have. You may even wave at the helicopters, pleading with them to send a rope and elevate you to the heavens. Or you look down and realize that it’s a long way down.

At that moment, the bigger question demanded an answer before the fire could consume them. Then the answer came for some as they stepped off by themselves. Others held hands, clinging to someone they loved for the duration of the fall. Some possibly closed their eyes or looked at their fate with the courage most of us don’t have.

Maybe some prayed, or chose to find peace with the fact that this would be their final act. At the same time, those of us on the other side of the country wished for a miracle.

I recently heard a song by Bryan McPherson named ‘Jumper 9/11.’ It gives voice to those who jumped. If I’m around for the next 25 years, I’ll still be haunted by the images of the jumpers and play ‘Jumper 9/11’ on repeat throughout the day, like I did today.