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Badge number 4511 by Scott Hillier

The Queen of England,
a kindly figure-head
and the ruler of a far-off land
owns his badge,
yes that's the one,
made of the finest American metal.
Badge number 4511.
One of New York City's finest.
A hero like no other.
and I loved him like a brother.

He had the luck,
shall we call it luck,
or fateless destiny,
of being on duty that morning
oh, that horrible clear-skied morning

When the jet struck tower number one
i know the thoughts that went through his head,
'cause I have felt them often.
Family. Kids. Wife.
Fuck it, mount the horses, batten the hatches - I'm invincible
no hurt can come my way.
But please God -
help me have them in my arms tonight.

With firm intent
I raced to join him -
we'd conquer those flaming towers -
we'd be heros together.

The shrill scream of the second plane shocked me to the core
The explosion stood me still.
While fiery death abounded just above my head,
I called his phone.
I called. I called; And i called again.
But a busy signal on his line,
I have to believe he saying his goodbyes to wife and kids - final ones he knew not,
meant we didn't talk. One last time.

I shuddered with the whole world as the first tower trembled -
a collective intake of breath,
an unnatural silence reigned on Manhattan's West side.
No. No. No. It can't be..
and then she fell.

Collective cries spanned the globe
And now we live with the tumbling images scorched on our brains.
Deep within I felt that I had just seen my friend Jo die.

Living a mission, I continued towards the mess.
I was on a quest to enter the fire and death.
Gravity fought the second tower,
she clung to the sky by just a single thread -
but I had to be there. Just in case he breathed still,
Of course he did. ; i just knew it
He was like me -
we shared the same ideal.
Indestructible is a way of life

Besides I'd never had the chance to say a proper goodbye.
We were peas in a pod.
Of different lands, cultures and thoughts,
but we'd both been to war.
We'd searched, found, fought and beaten our fears.

Then the second tower fell,
dousing fuel on our burning souls.

Jo lay crushed
badge by his side
not a glint of sun to make it shine
Just dust; and death; and...

... and I know that my loved ones,
alongside other kin,
don't understand how close I was to being under that rubble that day.

I often wonder if they care.

I still yearn for what we missed -
a final goodbye.
Farwell my friend Joseph Vigiano
the world is a lesser place without you.

Take good care of his badge my Queen.

Bio: Scott Hillier is an Academy Award winning filmmaker based in Paris.