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Father Mychal Judge bent down to the woman on the floor. His right hand made the cross in sign like oft he had before. Above him the North Tower Burned like South Tower just next door. The chaplain of the firemen, Mychal was a Catholic priest. Born and bred in Brooklyn, He was no stranger to these streets. When he heard word about the planes, his safety he ignored.. He had to go be with his boys His trust was in the Lord. The people in the towers had the choice to burn or fly. So many that day took the plunge preferring not to fry. The raging fires melted steel. South Tower started to collapse The Bravest in her stairwells never heard recall perhaps. “Sweet Jesus, Make this end now! ” Some heard  Father Mychal cry. Debris from the South Tower Like a scythe came flying by. It was blunt force trauma to the head laid Father Mychal low. His friends removed his body, before North tower , too, would go. Thousands passed that terrible day; the mighty and the small. When responders came with body bags Mychal was first of all. Zero Zero Zero One A strange number for a Priest, who rushed in where many others fled, May now he rest in Peace.
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Nov 19, 2011
Nov 19, 2011 at 6:43 PM UTC
First Fruits, a poem of 9-11
Father Mychal Judge bent down to the woman on the floor. His right hand made the cross in sign like oft he had before. Above him the North Tower Burned like South Tower just next door. The chaplain of the firemen, Mychal was a Catholic priest. Born and bred in Brooklyn, He was no stranger to these streets. When he heard word about the planes, his safety he ignored.. He had to go be with his boys His trust was in the Lord. The people in the towers had the choice to burn or fly. So many that day took the plunge preferring not to fry. The raging fires melted steel. South Tower started to collapse The Bravest in her stairwells never heard recall perhaps. “Sweet Jesus, Make this end now! ” Some heard  Father Mychal cry. Debris from the South Tower Like a scythe came flying by. It was blunt force trauma to the head laid Father Mychal low. His friends removed his body, before North tower , too, would go. Thousands passed that terrible day; the mighty and the small. When responders came with body bags Mychal was first of all. Zero Zero Zero One A strange number for a Priest, who rushed in where many others fled, May now he rest in Peace.
The Rev. Judge was victim #0001 on 09/11/01
john-f-mccullagh
Written by
63/M/American
Nov 19, 2011
Nov 19, 2011 at 6:43 PM UTC
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