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I was on the couch wondering when or if my father would call. Sept. 11, 2005, was a nerve-wracking day, no matter what the situation you were in, especially if you have a friend or family member in Iraq, like my dad was, fighting for Iraqi Freedom.
About that time the phone rang loudly over the TV. How ironic, I thought. I read the caller ID and my hand started to shake as I picked it up. Boone National Guard in Frankfort was calling, but [my father] wasn't anywhere near Frankfort right now.
"Hello?" I tried to sound friendly, but my voice cracked a little.
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