Originally Posted on Peter Steele's 13 Casketcrew FB page
I think you can tell from Peter's Carnivore days that he was a fierce proud American. His father fought in WW2, his uncles in Korea. When American soldiers or National Guardsmen came to see him off stage, he would always salute them, thank them for the amazing service they provide and give them his phone number to call him if they ever needed anything.
In fact, when Peter talked to his sister Patricia about being at ground zero on 9-11, he was horrified for her. Upset that Americans could be attacked on our own soil. Horrified that his brother-in-law was missing for hours and grateful to know that his sister wasn't one of the victims on that sorrowful day.
He was worried too. Worried that WW 3 had started. As the words from his song echoed in his head, he wondered what people of the world could be thinking that they'd allow so much hate for others to dictate their lives and lead them into killing so many innocent people.
Peter's neice Marie remembers the day she thought she lost her mother:
I got a phone call at 8:47am ... It was my mom, Pat. She worked across the street from the World Trade Center. She was standing outside her office building on her cellphone. She asked me, "Is there a ticker tape parade today?" I said, I don't think so, why? "Well," she said, "there are little bit's of paper flying through the air. It's so strange." I told her I'd turn on the tv and see what's up. Then I'd call her back.
I switched on the news station and I couldn't believe my eyes. The live camera showed a plane hitting the Towers. My heart fell out of my chest. My mom was walking right into disaster and she didn't know it. I tried to call her back, but the call didn't go through. Again, and again I called. Busy. Busy. Busy. I couldn't get through to her. I felt like she was cut off from the world.
Then, it all started. My phone rang. My aunts were calling to see if I heard from my mom. If anyone had heard from my Uncle Robert who worked next to the Towers. Peter called to ask if I heard from my mom or Robert. "I can't get in touch with her, Pete," I told him sobbing. " I don't know where she is." Peter choked back tears and told me to call him as soon as I got word. As I'm writing this, I don't even remember where he was at the time. If he was in town, he would have ran to the towers to find my mother and his brother in law. I felt so alone ... I just sat there and cried.
Thankfully, we found our mother and my uncle Robert eventually got home. But, we know countless people who never made it home. Peter was friendly with numerous cops and firefighters so he has always been thankful for the courage it took to run into the falling towers to try to save people.
It was a horrible, horrendous day. One I never want to relive. One that we can never forget.