Where We Were
September 11, 2001, is seared into memory. Everyone remembers where they were.
I was with my wife, Melody, and our young son Connor at Walt Disney World. We had just left breakfast at the Wilderness Lodge and were making our way to the Magic Kingdom. The skies were clear, the kind of blue that seems almost impossible now when paired with that date.
By the time the second plane hit, we were stepping out of Fantasyland’s Snow White ride. Park employees were quietly, firmly telling families to leave. I remember looking at Connor’s stroller, at Melody’s hand in mine, and realizing the “happiest place on earth” had suddenly become a place of whispered fear.
My dad, a retired FBI agent, was on the phone, giving us updates as the morning unfolded. His voice carried the weight of someone who knew more than the news anchors were saying. Even at Disney, the reality of what was happening pierced through.
But while I held my son’s hand and walked out of a theme park, others were buried alive in the rubble of the World Trade Center.
In the Darkness
Officer Will Jimeno was one of them.
When the South Tower collapsed, the world came down on him and his sergeant. Tons of steel and concrete pinned them in place. Imagine the air: not fresh, not breathable, but thick with dust and smoke and the smell of burning. The kind of air that coats your tongue and makes your chest ache. Imagine the silence interrupted only by groans of shifting debris, each creak threatening to be your last.
Will couldn’t move. His body screamed with pain. His mind raced with the faces of his wife, pregnant with their second child, and his little girl at home. He was twenty feet under the ruins of the world’s tallest towers, but the weight pressing hardest was fear.
He prayed. Not eloquent words, but desperate ones. Words a trapped man gasps out when the next breath isn’t guaranteed. He begged God for help, for mercy, for strength. And then, in the stillness of that darkness, he surrendered. He made his peace with God.
The Presence of Jesus
Then it happened.
In the thick blackness of the rubble, Will saw a figure. A man in a glowing white robe walked toward him. In His hands was a bottle of water.
Will knew instantly who it was.
Jesus.
The sight didn’t remove the rubble. It didn’t erase the pain. But it changed everything.
“I knew at that point it was Jesus … I just put my head back and closed my eyes, and I knew I was going to be okay.”
There, in the suffocating dark, Christ came as the Living Water. A Shepherd in the shadow of death. A Savior who promised He would never leave nor forsake His own.
Hope Above the Ruins
Hours passed. Thirteen in total. Each one stretched like an eternity.
But while Will clung to hope in the dark, God was stirring hope in others. Two Marine reservists, Jason Thomas and Dave Karnes, felt compelled to search the ruins. They weren’t assigned. They weren’t ordered. They just went, crawling over twisted steel, calling into the void.
And against impossible odds, they heard tapping. They heard voices. They found Jimeno and his sergeant alive.
Rescuers dug, cut, clawed through the wreckage until finally, mercifully, Will was pulled from the rubble. He emerged broken but breathing—carried out of death’s grip by the providence of God.
Faith, Hope, Love
In the years since, Jimeno has reflected on what sustained him. Three words: faith, hope, and love.
- Faith: He placed his life into God’s hands in the rubble. That surrender gave him peace.
- Hope: The vision of Christ gave him strength to endure the endless hours.
- Love: The love of his family, the love of strangers who risked everything to save him, and above all, the love of Christ who came to him in the dark.
These three remain.
Scripture in the Rubble
Will’s story brings familiar verses into sharper focus:
- “Even though I walk through the valley of the shadow of death, I fear no evil, for You are with me” (Psalm 23:4). In that stairwell-turned-grave, the Shepherd was present.
- “Whoever drinks of the water that I will give him shall never thirst” (John 4:14). The Living Water appeared with water in His hand.
- “Now abide faith, hope, and love, these three; but the greatest of these is love” (1 Corinthians 13:13). When hatred brought towers down, these three rose from the rubble.
Remembering Together
When I think of that day, I remember my own family—walking out of a theme park while my father’s voice relayed grim updates. I remember holding Melody’s hand and realizing how quickly life can change.
But I also remember Will Jimeno’s testimony. His story reminds me that God was not absent on 9/11. He was there in the rubble. He was there in the prayers of the trapped. He was there in the courage of rescuers. He was there in the faith, hope, and love that evil could not bury.
The Last Word Belongs to Christ
Twenty-four years later, the pain of 9/11 still lingers. Families still grieve. Survivors still carry scars. A nation still remembers.
But Jimeno’s vision points us to a greater reality: the last word does not belong to terrorists, or towers, or tragedy. The last word belongs to Christ.
On that day, buildings fell. But God’s promises did not.
Faith still abides.
Hope still endures.
Love still conquers.
And the greatest of these is love.
A Prayer
Lord, we remember. We remember the lives lost, the families torn apart, the courage of first responders, and the survivors who carry scars. We thank You for the testimony of Your presence in the rubble—that even in the valley of death, You were there. Teach us to abide in faith, hope, and love, until the day You wipe away every tear. In Jesus’ name, Amen.
