“Refined by Fire is about courage, devotion, growth, and faith. It’s about the character it takes to believe, the trust it takes to persevere, and the strength that results from this most fundamental of all human endeavors.”
General Eric K. Shinseki (USA Ret.) and Mrs. Patty Shinseki
* * *
“This is one of those ‘I couldn’t put it down’ books. A gripping page-turner! Brian and Mel Birdwell are the real deal. Two people refined by an unimaginable crisis. As you read Refined by Fire, your own faith will be strengthened. You will laugh with them and cry with them. You will love this book and the Birdwells, just as I do!”
Dennis Rainey, President, FamilyLife
* * *
“Gutsy, honest, and compelling. It shows what real faith—and true courage under fire—looks like in almost unimaginable circumstances. It also gives the rest of us a big-picture perspective on what really matters in everyday life.”
Ellen Vaughn, former V.P. of executive communications for Prison Fellowship and author of The Strand and Gideon’s ToRch, coauthored with Charles Colson
* * *
“George Washington long ago said, ‘The worth of one’s character is measured by the trial of adversity.’ On 9/11 most Americans witnessed the tragedy of the terrorist attacks from the outside, as observers. The Birdwells, however, witnessed it as participants. This inspiring, true story shows that the terrorist attack against the Pentagon did not produce character in the Birdwells; rather, it revealed their character.”
David Barton, Founder and President of WallBuilders, a national pro-family organization
After you have suffered for a little while, the God of all grace, who called you to His eternal glory in Christ, will Himself perfect, confirm, strengthen and establish you.
1 Peter 5:10
Visit Tyndale’s exciting Web site at www.tyndale.com.
TYNDALE and Tyndale’s quill logo are registered trademarks of Tyndale House Publishers, Inc.
Refined by Fire: A Family’s Triumph of Love and Faith
Copyright © 2004 by Brian and Mel Birdwell. All rights reserved.
Cover Pentagon photograph copyright © 2004 by Getty Images. All rights reserved.
Cover flag photograph copyright © by Photodisc. All rights reserved.
Front cover and back matter interior author photographs of Birdwells copyright © 2004
by Bill Bilsley. All rights reserved.
Back cover photograph of Birdwell family copyright © 1999 by Campus Photo. All rights reserved.
Published in association with the literary agency of The B & B Media Group, Inc.,
dba The Barnabas Agency, 109 S. Main, Corsicana, TX 75110; www.tbbmedia.com.
Edited by Ramona Cramer Tucker
Cover designed by Ron Kaufmann
Lyrics on p. 48 from the song “The Point of Grace” in Songs of Ministry, by worship leader Dennis Jernigan, are used by permission of Shepherd’s Heart Music, Inc., P.O. Box 890358, Oklahoma City, OK 73189, 1-800-877-0406.
Unless otherwise indicated, all Scripture quotations are taken from the New American Standard Bible,® copyright © 1960, 1962, 1963, 1968, 1971, 1972, 1973, 1975, 1977, 1995 by The Lockman Foundation. Used by permission.
Library of Congress Cataloging-in-Publication Data
Birdwell, Brian.
Refined by fire : a family’s triumph of love and faith / Brian and Mel Birdwell,
with Ginger Kolbaba.
p. cm.
ISBN 978-0-8423-8603-6
1. Birdwell, Brian. 2. Birdwell, Mel. 3. Christian biography—United States.
4. September 11 Terrorist Attacks, 2001—Religious aspects—Christianity.
I. Birdwell, Mel. II. Kolbaba, Ginger. III. Title.
BR1700.3.B57 2004
277.3′083′0922—dc22 2004001579
To the memory of three great Americans—Antoinette Sherman, Cheryle D. Sincock, and Sandra C. Taylor—who gave all at the Pentagon on 9/11/2001
Table of Contents
Foreword
Introduction: A Day We’ll Never Forget
Chapter One: Death Blow
Chapter Two: Road to Survival
Chapter Three: The Lone Casualty at Georgetown
Chapter Four: The Transfer
Chapter Five: The Day After
Chapter Six: No Rest for the Weary
Chapter Seven: Unconsciousness Is Bliss
Chapter Eight: What Happened?
Chapter Nine: Aftereffects
Chapter Ten: Previous Pain
Chapter Eleven: Tough Questions
Chapter Twelve: Pressing On
Chapter Thirteen: Moving to Step-Down
Chapter Fourteen: Waiting on God
Chapter Fifteen: Going Home
Chapter Sixteen: The Media
Chapter Seventeen: Learning through the Pain
Chapter Eighteen: Going Back
Chapter Nineteen: Reaching Out
Chapter Twenty: Where Was God?
Chapter Twenty-One: Looking Ahead
Photos
Epilogue
Acknowledgments
Bibliography
Scriptures for Comfort
Face the Fire Ministries
About the authors
Foreword
THE EVENTS OF SEPTEMBER 11, 2001, will forever be etched in our memories. For Brian and Mel Birdwell the etching goes deeper—to body and soul. In an instant, a nanosecond, their lives were turned upside down, never to be the same. The life-stealing thief came with a deafening explosion and a jet-fueled fireball. Brian was on fire, his body screaming out with the pain of being burned over 60 percent of his body.
This is their story—a gripping story of survival and victory, a story of God’s faithfulness, a love story strengthened by the Refiner’s fire.
Brian and Mel Birdwell are warriors. In 1984 Brian was commissioned as a lieutenant of Field Artillery, United States Army. In the Army he would learn about the warrior spirit and learn the truth about freedom—that freedom’s never free. In 1987 this Texas boy married an Oklahoma girl, and they began their “Army life” together. You will hear firsthand about their painful upbringing and personal struggles. Little did they know that God would use these events to prepare them for the difficult days following September 11.
I met Brian and Mel when Brian “got pulled up” to be executive officer to Ms. Jan Menig, my outstanding deputy in the Army’s Installation Management Office. From day one I could see that Brian and Mel were a team, a great Army family—raising their son, Matt, supporting other families, serving in their church, and growing in their relationship with Jesus Christ, their Lord and Savior. Many times Brian and I would talk about how God was working in our lives and share our love for Christ with each other. This, too, would be preparation for the days ahead.
I’ll never forget my first visit to the Burn Unit. I saw Mel before going in to see Brian. We hugged and talked of God’s sovereignty and comfort. Inside I was praying that God would strengthen her and Brian for the days ahead. Although I’d been to war in Desert Storm, I was not prepared for what I would see when I donned the sterile gear and went into Brian’s room in the ICU. He was wrapped from head to ankle in gauze. I was so thankful he was alive but couldn’t even imagine his pain and suffering. Little did any of us know what he would endure in over thirty operations and countless therapy sessions. There were—and still are—no words to express my feelings. Brian wanted to know about Sandi and Cheryle, our two wonderful “officemates” who were lost in the fire. These were tough days . . . and there would be many more.
Refined by Fire is far more than a tale of survival, although Brian would tell you he’s a
survivor, not a victim. It’s about two modern-day heroes who understand that freedom’s not free!
In the very worst of times Brian and Mel found that God was there for them—and that He was preparing them to comfort others. From this tragedy, Face the Fire Ministries, Inc. was born.
As you read Brian and Mel’s remarkable journey, learning to walk with God day by day, your heart will be touched. You’ll gain hope and perspective for your own life challenges. You’ll find yourself saying, “Compared to what Brian and Mel went through, my problems and challenges are pretty insignificant.” I certainly have.
May God draw you to Himself, speak to your heart, and bless you through this book.
To Brian and Mel:
I am honored to call you “friends.” Thanks for telling your story. You have challenged me to “press on” and make every day count. God has a purpose!
In His grip,
R. L. Van Antwerp
Major General
United States Army
Introduction: A Day We’ll Never Forget
“Terrorist attacks can shake the foundations of our biggest buildings, but they cannot touch the foundation of America.”
President George W. Bush, September 11, 2001
Brian
On September 11, 2001, American Flight 77 crashed into the Pentagon. I was standing fifteen to twenty yards from the point of impact. It took only a few seconds to change my life forever.
The searing second- and third-degree burns that were inflicted upon more than 60 percent of my body brought months of absolute torture. For weeks no one knew if I would live or die.
But God knew. He had a plan for my life. And no terrorist would be able to work against the purposes of God. My survival didn’t happen by luck or mere chance. It happened because a sovereign God had a specific plan for my life. And while I do not understand why God chose to allow me to live when so many others perished, I do know that he was with me.
The course back toward living has been dark, difficult, and agonizing. There have been many moments when I cried out to God, “Why did you let me live?”
The answer always seemed to be Just wait. Be patient.
For three months I waited—and endured more than thirty excruciating surgeries, daily debridements, and torturous physical therapy. I waited through the long hours of lying alone with my thoughts and questions, revisiting the events of September 11 in all their horror again and again.
Through my experiences I learned a lot of lessons, the most important one being that God doesn’t necessarily keep us from going through our own personal fire. He won’t magically remove the hurt and the consequences of decisions made. But he promises to walk through those experiences with us. While he may not take away the pain, he gives us the strength, comfort, peace, and endurance to walk through, to get to the other side, and to be closer to him in the process.
Every tear we shed, God sheds so many more. When we’re angry over injustices done to us, God is even angrier. When we grieve, he grieves. God is there with us each step of the way.
I am a survivor—but only by God’s grace and compassion. I could never have gotten through this horrific ordeal without depending on Christ and without the support of my committed wife, Mel.
Mel
Before September 11, 2001, we were boring, normal, everyday people. We spent our Friday nights at home watching John Wayne movies and eating pizza. We attended church, got together with friends, and enjoyed our quiet, uneventful life as a family.
This is a true story about the Lord’s sovereignty in our lives. Our lives are forever different. The day I went to the Pentagon and saw where Brian was in relation to where the plane struck, I realized that there was no way he could have survived—except for the hand of God protecting him and our family.
We’ve had many opportunities to speak about our faith. We think it’s important to tell our story, because if we fail to do so, then those thousands of lives lost on that day were a waste, not a sacrifice.
Some parts of this book have been extremely difficult for us to write and to reread. We had blocked out so much of the pain that we didn’t remember certain events until we began to reread my journal and then discuss and relive the ordeal.
No one can ever comprehend the horror and full impact of what Brian’s body experienced, but we can share on the level of compassion and sympathy. This book isn’t easy to read—it shows a portion of the pain, suffering, and indignities we endured.
And yet we also pray it shows the hope we have held onto and claimed as our own.
Brian and Mel
We all face personal fires—those life-changing, traumatic times when the course of our lives are altered. Those are the times when we learn to rely on God—or when we decide to become angry with him and push him away. When we rely on him, he shows us what he’s capable of accomplishing—regardless of the tragedy we may experience, whether it is physical, emotional, or spiritual.
While this book tells our story, it is so much more than that. It is really a story of God’s love, mercy, graciousness, and loving sovereignty in our lives. He is at work in all of our life stories—sometimes he works in big, miraculous ways, and sometimes he works behind the scenes. But he is always working.
That is where our hope lies. Christ provides the hope that we will endure this suffering and emerge stronger because of it.
One
Death Blow
Brian
It was a day like any other at the Pentagon outside Washington DC.
I stepped out of the men’s room on the second floor and started down Corridor 4 toward the outermost ring of the building, the E-Ring. The hall of the newly renovated wedge was lit with bright fluorescents in the ceiling panels. Everything was a stark white, sterile, and quiet. No one else was around as I headed back to my office.
It was 9:37 a.m., Tuesday, September 11, 2001.
I took seven or eight steps and was in front of the first set of elevators when bang! There was a deafening explosion.
Where had the sound come from?
It wasn’t the jackhammers of the remodeling crew, even though I’d heard them frequently in that wedge of the Pentagon. And after spending nineteen years in the Army—being a Gulf War veteran and having more than ten years as an artillery officer—I was familiar with loud explosions, concussions, and other noises of war. This was louder than anything I’d heard in my lifetime. This was the crashing resonance of metal slamming through concrete—a scraping, screaming, high-pitched, thunderous blast.
Everything happened at once, in less than an instant—a nanosecond. Yet everything seemed in slow motion. Bomb! I thought as I started to take another step.
Immediately everything around me went pitch black, as if I was thrown into a deep, dark cave. A loud whoosh blasted toward me. Fire exploded at and around me, slamming me across the hall, ripping my glasses from my face, and then tossing me limply onto the floor. I heard debris flying around me. The ceiling panels and light fixtures crashed down; the walls shook as if hit by an earthquake. But I couldn’t see anything, except for a ring of yellow surrounding me. Then I realized . . . I was on fire!
The pain came instantly. The heat was so intense that the polyester pants of my uniform melted into my legs. My arms, back, legs, face, and hair were alight with flames.
Thick smoke engulfed me, slapping me across the face and threatening to suffocate me. I swallowed it as I gasped for air. My mind registered a distinct odor and taste. Jet fuel? I gulped and choked on the heavy vapors and the dust from the building debris as I struggled just to get oxygen.
It was hard to keep my eyes open—the smoke and heat from the fire stung my eyes. I didn’t know where the fire was coming from, where the explosion had happened. All I could see was the intense glow of yellow right in front of my face and then around it, total blackness.
My body screamed in pain, but there was nothing to put out the flames.
I’m not sure how long I lay on the floor. It seemed
like an eternity, but it was probably only five or ten seconds.
I forced my eyes to open. I tried to get to my feet, but my body wouldn’t cooperate. In order to survive whatever this was, I knew I needed to escape—fast.
But which way do I go? Which way to safety? I wondered. I was so disoriented from the blast that I didn’t even know which way I was facing after I had been thrown. Was I facing safety or more danger?
It doesn’t matter, I told myself. You just need to get away.
I tried hard not to panic, yet it was difficult to stay focused when the pain was so intense and all I could see was that yellow ring of fire with the black around it.
Then there was the awful noise around me—as overwhelming and full of static as though someone was strumming an electric guitar at the highest decibel. Fire alarms added to the shrill sound. I was trying not to pay attention to anything except getting away from the fire, but the cumulative noise pierced my concentration. Worse, I couldn’t bring my hands up to cover my ears because I was trying to use them to get off the floor.
I tried to stand four or five times, using my hands and my arms to get up. I’d manage to get on one knee, then I’d fall. My legs wouldn’t support me, and I had no balance. The concussion had damaged my inner ear equilibrium. And because it was so black around me, I lost all sense of depth.
I tried desperately to see something—anything—other than the oval of yellow surrounding me. But there was nothing. No wall, no doors, no elevator, nothing. It was as though there was nothing to touch except for whatever I was lying on.
Finally the pain was too much to bear. I tried to stand one last time and fell sideways. In my anguish I screamed, “Jesus! I’m coming to see you!”
I knew I was going to die. As a soldier I’d been trained never to give up. But I did. I didn’t try to get up again. Instead, I thought, Okay, Lord, if this is the end for me, if this is the way I am to die, then okay.
I shut my eyes and thought about what a horrific death this was. Then I thought about Mel, my wife, and our son, Matt. My mind recalled the events of the morning before I left for work. Did they know what was happening to me? I didn’t want this morning to be the last time I’d ever see them. I remembered saying good-bye to them just a few hours earlier, never dreaming that I might not come home again. What would their lives be like without me around?
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