My dad was killed in 9/11 – five weeks before I was born

EVERY time I see footage of the Twin Towers crashing to the ground on 9/11, the same thought always hits me – the courage of my dad Lee, a firefighter who raced inside to save others, and lost his own life in the process.

I feel both in awe of his bravery and deeply sad that I never got the opportunity to know him.

Part of ‘Generation 9/11’ – the children who were still in the womb when their fathers died in the attacks – I have no memories of my dad, but still feel a deep connection to him.

On that terrible morning 21 years ago, my older sister Kaitlin, three, was at home with my mum Danielle, now 50, who was eight months pregnant with me.

My dad’s mother phoned the house and told Mum to switch on the TV. When she did, she saw the Twin Towers burning.

While she assumed Dad and his colleagues had been called in to help, it wasn’t until later that she learned that he lost his life.

Dad, who was just 28 when he died, had been a firefighter for two years, and before that a policeman for five years.

He was based in Brooklyn, around 50 miles from our home on Long Island.

He was last seen heading towards the South Tower to rescue the people trapped and injured inside.

Unlike many families whose loved ones’ bodies were never found, Mum received Dad’s remains, which are buried in a local cemetery in a special section for 9/11 heroes.

A week after his funeral – and five weeks after his death – I was born.

I can’t begin to imagine what it must have been like for Mum, losing her husband and best friend and having a second baby, all within a few weeks.

She has told me it was all a haze of shock and disbelief.

I believe the only thing that got her through was knowing she had to look after me and Kaitlin, so she couldn’t give up.

I grew up surrounded by love for Dad, and our house was filled with photographs of him.

My grandma talked about him pulling pranks on his brothers as a little boy, and Mum shared how he could always make people laugh.

Kaitlin has some memories of Dad, including riding their bikes together and the last time she saw him on the morning of 9/11.

Naturally a part of me envies that she got to spend time with him and I never did.

I was just three when Mum told me he’d died in 9/11 – though I didn’t understand what it meant till later – and every year, she took Kaitlin and me to a memorial service for the families.

As I got older, I discovered I was part of Generation 9/11 and there were many other children just like me.

For a time, I was glad to meet them, but we stopped regularly attending the memorials when I was 10 because it kept us living in grief and it was too hard.

Even now, 21 years on from the attacks, Mum finds the anniversary tough.

I grew up surrounded by love for Dad, and our house was filled with photographs of him.

She relives the entire day in her mind, and rather than attend a memorial, she marks the day in her own way, sometimes by going to church.

Even though I wasn’t born then, 9/11 has had a deep effect on me.

I always look for the exits whenever I’m in a new place and check for security cameras, as I’m always on high alert for risks.

And I don’t like large crowds – they give me an eerie feeling.

Mum says I’m a lot like Dad, especially our shared love of music.

He played the bagpipes, accordion, harmonica and guitar, and I play the guitar, bass and piano.

I’m studying music at college in Boston, and I’ve just released my first record.

No one else in the family is musical, so it makes me feel connected to him.

I’ve also been told we look alike and have the same sense of humour.

I love to hear these things.

Five years after Dad’s death, Mum remarried and had another daughter, Liza, now 16.

Liza and I are so close and I can’t imagine my life without her.

Out of such a terrible time in our family’s life, something beautiful came along.

Nobody wants to be part of Generation 9/11, but losing my father has taught me to be grateful for the people around me and the life I have, when so many lost theirs that day.

I wish I’d had the chance to know Dad, but I hope he’d be proud of the woman I’ve become.

As told to: Charlotte Lytton