Don’t get me wrong—Chief Pfeifer’s story is one for the ages and I can’t imagine what it must have been like… but that’s just it: I can’t imagine it. The author forgot or doesn’t know the age old adage, “show don’t tell,” wherein just by showing us exactly what happened and how he was feeling we, the readers, are able to sympathize very well with him. But instead this is one big “tell” book. Full of lines like “it was sad” and “I did the brave thing” that make it seem like a high school essay of someone trying to prove themselves right. Moreover it was written as though the reader had never heard of 9/11, as the author felt the need to tell us the most basic facts as if he alone knew them: “9/11 was committed by a terrorist group called al Qaeda” ….uh no crap. Finally this whole story seemed way too polite and nice for it being a memoir about 9/11 and his brother’s death. Not once did he mention that he cried, or showed any scene of his own personal feelings of devastation—just “my brother died, we were all upset.” And everything just seemed to work out really well for him without a struggle in the world when I know he must have been struggling immensely. I have read probably every 9/11 book on the market and this is the only one that didn’t gut me all over again and make me cry. I was just not even remotely moved and that’s all due to poor writing. He should have hired a ghostwriter.