He Wakes Up Screaming About a Tall Building and the Statue of Liberty — A Child’s Memories Hint at a Life Lost on 9/11

It was a decade ago when everything changed for Erica and her husband, Mike, with the birth of their son, Cade.

The experience was nothing short of miraculous for them, as they had struggled with infertility for years.

Holding Cade in her arms for the first time was a moment of pure joy, a feeling that something they had longed for had finally come true.

But from the very beginning, Cade was different.

He possessed an old soul, often looking at the world with a wisdom that belied his tender age.

As he grew, it became clear that Cade was exceptionally bright.

By the time he was one and a half, he was crawling, walking, and talking well beyond the capabilities of his peers.

He could hold conversations with adults, using intricate words that left his parents in awe.

But it was around the age of three that things took a more unsettling turn.

Cade began to speak about memories that seemed impossible for a child of his age to possess.

 

 

In the middle of the night, Cade would wake up screaming, crying about working in a tall building where he could see the Statue of Liberty from his office.

“I dreamed that I was falling with the building,” he would say, his little voice trembling as he recounted these vivid dreams.

Erica felt a chill run down her spine.

How could a three-year-old talk about New York and death? She couldn’t shake the feeling that something deeper was at play.

Erica noted these incidents but initially dismissed them as a vivid imagination or perhaps a symptom of autism.

After all, Cade had never been to New York, and they had never shown him anything related to the World Trade Center.

Yet, as Cade continued to express these memories, she couldn’t help but wonder if he had somehow experienced the tragedy of 9/11.

As time went on, Cade developed an obsession with airplanes.

He was terrified of them, not in the way one might fear a thunderstorm, but as if they were harbingers of doom.

The sight of planes flying overhead would send him into a frenzy, and he would refuse to get out of the car when they passed by tall buildings.

“That big shiny one looks just like the Twin Towers,” he would say, his eyes wide with fear.

Erica’s heart ached for her son as she watched him grapple with these emotions.

Cade’s fear of tall buildings became more pronounced as he approached seven years old.

“I don’t want to be around them,” he insisted, his voice shaking.

“It feels creepy to look up.”

Erica tried to reassure him, but she could see the panic in his eyes.

It was clear that this was more than just a childhood fear; it was a deep-seated anxiety that stemmed from something he couldn’t fully articulate.

Eventually, Cade began to express more concrete memories.

“I was in a building that was hit by something,” he said one day, his voice steady but filled with sadness.

“It exploded, and I fell. Pieces came down on me.”

Erica felt as if the ground had been pulled out from under her.

The pieces of the puzzle were starting to fit together, and she could no longer deny the connection between her son’s memories and the events of 9/11.

The realization hit her hard.

Cade had been at the World Trade Center.

He had experienced the horror of that day, and now, in this life, he was trying to make sense of it all.

Erica felt a wave of compassion wash over her.

“I don’t imagine a man going through this,” she thought, “I imagine my baby going through this.

” The weight of this knowledge was almost unbearable.

As Cade’s memories continued to surface, he expressed a desire to change his name.

“I don’t like being Cade,” he said insistently.

“I had a name before.”

This revelation sent Erica into a spiral of confusion and concern.

What did it mean? Who had he been before? In her search for answers, she turned to the internet, posting Cade’s story on various forums in hopes of connecting with others who might understand.

It was another mother who reached out to her, sharing a link to an obituary of a man who had died in the World Trade Center on 9/11.

The details of his life mirrored Cade’s memories, and Erica was left in shock.

She pulled up the obituary and pictures, her heart racing as she realized the connection.

This man had lived a life that Cade seemed to remember in fragments.

 

 

Despite the overwhelming evidence, Erica hesitated to contact the victim’s family.

She worried about interrupting their grieving process and what she would say.

“Your son didn’t die; he’s just someone different now,” felt like an impossible message to convey.

The thought of reaching out to them filled her with dread, but she could no longer ignore the truth that was unfolding before her.

As the days turned into weeks, Erica and Mike struggled to cope with Cade’s situation.

They felt helpless and lost, unsure of how to support their son through this complex web of memories and emotions.

Cade faced challenges in their neighborhood, as other children often called him a liar or laughed at his claims.

Teachers were skeptical, sometimes punishing him for disrupting class with his stories.

The isolation Cade experienced broke Erica’s heart.

All she wanted was for him to be accepted and loved.

“My priority now is to make life as easy as possible for Cade,” Erica thought.

She wanted to help him feel comfortable in his own skin, to embrace the identity he was trying to forge.

She held onto hope that one day, people would understand him better.

“He is who he is because I love him,” she reminded herself.

“I wouldn’t trade him for anything in the world.”

As time passed, Cade began to find solace in creative outlets.

Drawing and writing became his ways of expressing the memories that haunted him.

Erica encouraged his creativity, hoping it would help him process his experiences.

“You can be Cade and still remember who you were,” she would tell him, trying to reassure him that he wasn’t alone in this journey.

Slowly, Cade began to open up more about his past life.

He would share snippets of memories, describing the office where he worked, the people he knew, and the feeling of falling.

“I remember the fire and the smoke,” he said one day, his voice barely above a whisper.

“I was scared, but I didn’t feel pain.

” Erica listened intently, her heart aching for the little boy who was trying to reconcile two lives.

Through it all, Erica remained steadfast in her love for Cade.

She knew that he was navigating a complex emotional landscape, and she wanted to be there for him every step of the way.

“I need him to learn to be Cade again,” she thought.

“To learn to laugh and play like all the other kids.”

With each passing day, Cade showed signs of resilience.

He began to make friends who accepted him for who he was, and his confidence grew.

Erica felt a sense of relief wash over her as she watched him flourish.

She knew that they still had a long journey ahead, but they were facing it together.

One day, while playing in the park, Cade turned to his mother and said, “I’m okay now, Mom. I like being Cade.”

Erica felt tears of joy fill her eyes.

“I’m so proud of you,” she replied, pulling him into a warm embrace.

In that moment, she realized that while Cade’s memories would always be a part of him, they didn’t have to define him.

 

 

As they continued to navigate the complexities of Cade’s experiences, Erica and Mike found strength in their love for their son.

They learned to embrace the unknown and to celebrate the journey they were on together.

Cade’s story became a testament to the power of love, resilience, and the unbreakable bond between a mother and her child.

In the end, Cade’s journey was not just about memories of a past life; it was about embracing the present and looking forward to the future.

With each step he took, he was learning to be himself, a little boy with a big heart and a beautiful spirit.

And as Erica watched him grow, she knew that no matter what challenges lay ahead, they would face them together, united by love and understanding.