We All Fall Down: The True Story of the 9/11 Surfer (20 page)

Joanne stepped out behind her, holding the skirt of her dress up in the air to keep it from getting soaked by the dirty water splashing off the asphalt.

Well, I hope Pasquale does not mind that half of the freaking Bronx has now seen my underwear,
Louise thought, allowing another chuckle to escape as the rain pelted down on her.

As she made her way to the other limo, she heard
honk
, followed by another
beep
, and then another. She waved her hand as cars and trucks drove past, cheering and waving her on, showing their support and wishing her well. Louise was touched, but she would have expected nothing less than a good, old-fashioned Bronx cheer from her fellow New Yorkers.

When she finally got into the car, she was not surprised to see that her bridesmaids were laughing too!

“Here, take these.” Joanne held out some napkins to Louise, which she took with gratitude.

“So, other than soaked, how are you?” Dara asked, causing yet another eruption of laughter. “You nervous?” she probed as the laughter died down.

Louise smiled at her, knowing that Dara was nervous on her behalf. “No, not at all,” Louise answered, and she meant it. “Nothing will stop me from getting to Hoboken today. Even if I’d have had to leave all of you behind and hitch a ride with a trucker, I
am
getting married
today
!”

CHAPTER TWENTY-FOUR

A Little Hope in Your Life

TV Presenter Tara Brown:
How many miracles do you think saved you that day?

Pasquale Buzzelli:
How many miracles? Three maybe? The elevator...I should have died there.

I mean, a lot of people died in the elevators
. [Also surviving]
the building collapse and my daughter…so three.

~
60 Minutes
Australia

(September 11, 2002)

Pasquale sat on the couch, just days after the most important moment of his life, the day his and Louise’s dreams had come true, yet he was doing the same thing he’d done every night since 9/11 and would continue to do for the foreseeable future.

The room was dark, with the exception of the blue hue emitted by the television. Those images never changed; the production people simply rearranged the order in which they showed them. Some days they’d start with an image of the clear skies, followed by the collision of the first plane. Other times, they’d start more grimly, showing the Towers collapsing, then soften the blow by focusing on the blue skies behind them, finishing with shots of citizens standing together, hoping the message would be received:
“We are America! We will stand strong together, and we will move on!”

Unfortunately for Pasquale, as hard as he fought to remain strong and “move on,” he couldn’t seem to break free of it all. The rest of the world might have been moving on, but it seemed that no matter what he did or what was happening in his life at that point, he was simply at a standstill.

Two months prior to that night, he’d been able to think of nothing other than getting to the day when he could finally hold his baby girl in his arms. So many times, he’d envisioned a rapturous moment, when he would look down at his baby girl before looking up into the eyes of his beautiful wife. Two months before that night, he would have said nothing would have been capable of stealing that moment from him or distracting him from it. Two months before that night, Pasquale Buzzelli would have shouted from the rooftops that nothing could ever possibly diminish the joy he’d feel when baby Hope was born.

November 17, 2001 started off the same as every other day had since September 11. Pasquale awoke in the early hours of the morning, nearly bound in the bed sheets, for his restless night had twisted them around him, and he was sweating profusely. As he’d done so many times before, he tried to calm himself by taking large gulps of air.
I am okay. It was just a dream,
he told himself.
The elevator is only in my dreams. I am not trapped…anymore.
He knew they were only memories, nightmares, but still they felt so real. There he was, riding in an elevator, an event so normal to most people that they don’t even realize they’re doing it. But then came the jolt, the shudder of the elevator as it began to plummet more quickly than it should have. He would remain in that elevator, trapped, the walls closing in on him. Pasquale could not understand why, after all the trauma he’d endured, that frightening elevator ride was the nightmare that haunted him most.

After a few moments, his heart rate would slow. He would take one last deep breath and somehow find the courage to start his day. Most of his days amounted to an exercise in just gritting his teeth and enduring, and November 17 was no different. When he finally returned home from work, he just wanted to collapse on the couch, where he would inevitably find countless images of the event that continued to haunt his every waking and sleeping moment.

“Hey, Pasquale,” Louise said, greeting him with a kiss. “How was your day today at work?”

“It was fine, Nunu,” he replied, doing his best to keep the agony he felt inside him from showing. “How are you feeling? Shouldn’t you be lying down?”

“I’m fine—a little sore, but look at me!” She gestured to her rotund, pregnant belly, which now had the appearance of a balloon that was just about to pop. “Aches and pains just come with the territory. Oh…did you pick up my food?”

“Of course.” Pasquale pulled a bag from behind his back. “How could I forget?”

“Thank you, Pasquale!” She hugged him quickly before taking the bag. “I’ve been craving this all day!”

“You remember where we used to eat this, right?”

“Mm-hmm.” Louise nodded, after she swallowed. “In Amalfi, on our honeymoon. God, Italy was so beautiful. You remember we stayed at The Santa Caterina?”

Pasquale looked at his wife and could not help but smile. He nodded, and she continued eating. He remembered how happy they’d both been on their honeymoon, where she’d first eaten the hard-boiled egg, crusty Italian bread, with Sopressata sausage, fresh mozzarella, tomato, basil, and extra virgin olive oil. All of the ingredients had been so fresh and new and vibrant, picked straight out of the garden. Everything had seemed so carefree then, back before they’d even begun trying to get pregnant—what now seemed like an eternity ago, but was not even four years ago.

Louise was so pregnant, yet strong as ever, and so beautiful as she sat there nibbling for two. Things had been awkward between them lately, but in moments like that, Pasquale found a slight reprieve; if only for a moment, he could almost put his heartache on the back burner and forget about it. He loved his wife so much, and when he thought about everything she’d gone through and how she’d come out of even stronger, it gave him hope that he, himself, might one day recover from the scars of 9/11 and move on like the rest of the world. Louise was a woman strong in spirit, even though life had never been easy for her. She’d endured so many struggles. Even something as simple and common as getting pregnant had proven to be a challenge, but she was not one to back down from obstacles or give up hope when it came to getting what she wanted.

~ ♦ ~

In the spring of 1999, close to a year after they were married, Louise and Pasquale decided they were ready to bring a little one into the world, someone they could both love and cherish as much as they loved and cherished one another. Louise had dreamt of being a mother since she was a little girl.

As Louise grew older, it became even more important to her to have her own family, and when she lost her own mother, she knew for certain what she was meant to do: She was supposed to be a mother, to love her own children as she had been loved, and—most of all—she was supposed to give her children all the things and the precious moments that had been stolen from her when her mother was taken captive by that horrible disease called cancer. She wanted the chance to give herself to a child of her own and to show that child all the love she had inside of her, just as her parents had done for her while they’d still had the opportunity to do so.

Thus, when Pasquale was ready, she didn’t hesitate for a moment. Their initial hopes of conceiving went unanswered, though, and Louise began to worry that her dreams of holding a baby in her arms might go unfulfilled. They both began to worry, so early that summer, Louise came up with a plan.

“P., I think we should get a dog!” Louise burst out with no hint of pretense.

“Uh…what?” Pasquale asked, prying his eyes away from the game he was watching on TV.

“I want to get a dog. I always had a dog growing up, and I think we should get one.”

“Louise, I don’t want a dog,” Pasquale said with a sigh.

“Oh, come on! We
need
a dog. We need someone to fill the rooms of this house. I know you never had pets growing up, so you don’t understand how much love a dog can bring into your life!”

Pasquale, though still opposed to the idea, did not protest any further. He could see how much it would mean to Louise, so he conceded to canine ownership after all. Brittany the Soft Coated Wheaton terrier was part of their family. The furry dog had been born on March 19, Louise’s mother’s birthday, and Louise took that for a sign that Brittany was meant to come into their lives. Despite Pasquale’s initial reluctance, he quickly fell for the pup, and both Louise and Pasquale felt she was a part of their family, like their extra-furry firstborn.

Even with the new addition to their family, they still wanted a child. Since they had not conceived naturally in well over a year and were not willing to give up so easily on their quest for the pitter-patter of little feet, they decided to talk to Louise’s doctor about it to find out if they were candidates for in vitro fertilization. After discussing it with family and friends and receiving positive feedback and encouragement, Louise and Pasquale located Dr. Michael Cho, an extremely sympathetic in vitro specialist.

“Mrs. Buzzelli?” a nurse with cats on her scrubs called out.

Louise raised her hand, and the nurse spotted her.

“The doctor will see you now.”

Louise looked at Pasquale, and she knew they were both thinking the same thing:
What if this is it? What if we simply cannot have kids? What if we are not meant to have children of our own?
They were both only children, and they began to wonder if there was a reason for that.
Maybe our genes will make it too hard—or even impossible—for us to have children.
As these thoughts ran through Louise’s mind, she let out a long sigh. When she looked down at the floor, she felt Pasquale’s large hand overtake hers and give a soft squeeze. Even in that time of personal crisis, she felt incredibly grateful and knew Pasquale was doing everything he could to comfort her.

When they entered the room, they sat in silence, waiting for the doctor to see them. Louise sat on the exam table, and Pasquale squeezed into the chair in the corner, which was definitely made for a much smaller man than him. Louise tried her best to think of something to say, anything that would break the unbearable silence, but she could think of nothing. Luckily, the doctor did not keep them waiting too long.

“Hello, Louise.” Dr. Cho greeted her with a warm smile. “How are you feeling today?”

“I am okay,” she lied. “Dr. Cho, this is my husband, Pasquale.”

“Hello, Pasquale!” Dr. Cho extended his hand, and Pasquale shook it. Dr. Cho winked at Louise and said, “Wow! Quite a grip on this guy. What are you feeding him?”

“It’s not my fault, Doctor. His mother won’t stop bringing over roast beef and whole chickens.”

“I have been meaning to start Weight Watchers,” Pasquale said, a bit sheepishly.

They all laughed, and Louise felt very grateful to Dr. Cho for helping to ease the tension they were both feeling.

“Nonsense, Pasquale. You look like you are strong as a bull,” Dr. Cho said after he stopped laughing. “Now, as for the results of your tests—”

“Oh God, Doctor. How do they look?” Louise held her breath, trying to read the doctor’s expression for any signs of hope.

“Can we try in vitro?” Pasquale interrupted, his fingers secretly crossed in his pocket.

“Yes. I would say you are great candidates to try in vitro fertilization.”

Louise clapped her hands together, and Pasquale stood up and hugged her. “Thank you so much, Dr. Cho!” Louise said, wiping her eyes.

“Don’t thank me yet,” Dr. Cho said. “I need to be honest and upfront about you. This is still a process, and there is no guarantee that it will work. Due to your age and health, you have as good a shot as anyone. But still, the success rate for women in your age range is about 35 percent on the high end.”

“Still, Doctor…” Pasquale hesitated for a moment. “It’s good to know that we have a chance.”

Dr. Cho became a rock for the Buzzellis during that worrisome experience. After two years of trying to conceive, they were ready to put all of their hopes in Dr. Cho’s hands and trust that they would be rewarded with their ultimate wish.

A few months later, they found themselves back in that same office, hoping for more good news when the doctor entered the room.