America@250: “My Son Died as a First Responder on 9/11 – The Country He Lived and Died for Doubted Him”
“My name is Talat Hamdani and I lived in Bayside when 9/11 happened,” begins a mother’s story filmed as part of NY 1’s “Remember September 11th: 25 Years, 25 Stories.” The content of this blog post is an auto-generated YouTube transcript from that interview.
My son’s name is Mohammad Salman Hamdani. He was a cadet with the NYPD. I called my husband and he said, ‘Yes, the towers are falling and now the second tower is falling which was hit first.’ And he said, ‘Salman is there.’
He felt it.
Next day, we went to the armory to give our DNA and register him as missing. We
had his pictures printed and posted on all the trees in Bayside, wondering if anybody saw him, but those were ripped down. I was surprised. I thought it was my own community, but they were all taken down.
A friend came in and he said, “The NYPD is searching for your son. There’s a flyer circulating.” And I said, “What flyer?” He gave me a copy of it, and it said: “Wanted.”
The flyer was a copy of [the paperwork] when he registered as a cadet: his name, his height, everything about him; it said, ‘may have connections with the attacks.’ New York Post had printed [an article with his picture and the headline] ‘Hiding or Missing?’
It hurt me very deeply that the country that he lived for and died for, gave the ultimate sacrifice, is doubting him. He was being targeted because of his faith, because his first name was Mohammad and he used to pray five times a day at home. A devout practicing Muslim.
I found myself in a very difficult position. When I was in my Muslim community, I found myself defending the American values. And when I was in the American community, defending my religion. Like a pariah, everybody ostracized me.
I did go down to Guantanamo Bay also to see if he’s there maybe, thinking that he was taken political prisoner at that time. They pulled me aside and they said, “he’s not here and he really died that day.”
It was March 20th, 2002. We get a knock at the door and there were these two tall gentlemen and they said, your ‘son has been confirmed.’ So, the next day we went to the medical examiner’s office. He had a package and he said, ‘These are his remains, 34 pieces.’ They gave us his jeans and his belt.
At the big mosque in Manhattan, where Salman used to go to pray every Friday, there his funeral was held. April 5th, 2002. There were 1,000 cadets also who attended his funeral, but we did not get to see his face or his body. So, in my memory he’s alive. I have a positive happy Salman in my mind. I haven’t put a tombstone on his grave as yet. I intend to do it this year.
I am at peace now. It’s been 25 years and time heals. I forgive everybody, because when it comes to forgiving, you are not forgiving them. You are forgiving yourself of the pain and torture that you are suffering thinking about them.
I have five grandkids. Salma, my first granddaughter is named after Salman. We dropped the ‘n’ and she is his namesake He is a shaheed, a martyr. The shaheeds are forever alive in our faith. Martyrdom is also a factor in all the different faiths. And so that’s why I feel that his soul has reunited with my soul.
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