[AZTarHeel]

Timmy Zarzour had repeated the routine a thousand times on Tuesday, Sept. 11, 2001:

Call Big Ed's cell phone. Call Marcie's cell phone. Call the couple's home phone. Repeat.

A massive terrorist attack had just been perpetrated in New York City, where two of Timmy's favorite people in the entire world lived, and the high school senior from far away Bunn, N.C., wanted to find out if they were OK.

But alas, his calls didn't go through. Every once in awhile he'd get voicemail, but no real person. So Timmy would wait a few minutes and try again. And again. And again. And he'd worry all the more, especially considering Big Ed Scalfani — who had mentored Zarzour the year before during his community service time — was now a firefighter with a Brooklyn firehouse. But were firefighters from Brooklyn in Manhattan when the towers fell? He wasn't sure.

Finally, as afternoon turned to evening, Zarzour had a breakthrough. He sat down on his couch — the TV still showing the chilling images from the day — and dialed the Scalfani's home phone one more time. It rang! And just before the answering machine clicked on, a frantic female voice answered.

"Ed, is that you? Ed? Hello? I love you! Where are you! I miss you!"

"Hi, Marcie, it's me Timmy. Timmy Zarzour from North Carolina."

"Oh... Timmy... hi." The voice sank.

"I've been trying to reach you guys all day," Timmy said, talking a million miles an hour. "I've tried to call Ed on his cell but I can't get through. I tried your cell, too. But again, all these error messages. What a crazy day. Gosh, Marcie, it's so good to hear your voice and know that you're ..."

"Timmy, I can't find Ed."

"What?"

"Timmy, Ed's missing. He was supposed to have the day off, and we were going to have a nice relaxing picnic in Central Park after I stopped by campus for a quick meeting. But then we all heard about the attacks. He got a call from his chief immediately, kissed me, told me he loved me, and off he went to join his buddies at the World Trade Center."

"Surely Ed's OK," Timmy said, panic rising in his voice. "He's just busy I'm sure. So many people to help, right? Ed's OK. He's OK. He's got to be OK."

"Timmy, I think Ed's gone. I think my husband is dead..."