Reporter's Notebook: Catching up with a child of 9/11

I met PJ Stoyan during one of the most raw and grueling times in our nation's history.

The country was reeling from the deadliest attacks on U.S. soil. We were getting used to saying terrifying words in regular conversations – like "hijackers" and "terrorists." We watched as worn firefighters and rescuers spent days trying to save victims from the rubble. No one could even estimate a death toll.

Rumors of new threats would shake the public. All airplanes were grounded. People prayed but life seemed to stop. So we took off to find hope of new life in the aftermath of devastation.

We visited the labor and delivery ward at St. Joseph's Women's Hospital two days after the terrorist attacks. Some parents said they were scared to have a baby at that time in history.

When we met PJ Stoyan, he was just about ready to be discharged. His mother Michelle told us when she was five days past her due date, doctors induced labor the morning of Sept. 11. When it was clear she would need a cesarean section by 3:30 in the afternoon, she and her husband Pete said doctors and nurses could barely take their eyes of the TV monitors in the room.

"At one point I had to just tell them, 'Hey, can you focus on my wife here, she's having a baby.'"

At one point, Pete Stoyan said he had to just turn off the TVs himself.

On Sept. 13, 2001, Pete told us, "He means everything to us, he's our world."

His wife added, "We feel really bad and our hearts go out to all those people but life has to go on."

Life went on. The nation rebuilt from ruins while PJ – short for Parker Jameson – grew up and hit milestones.

PJ became an avid baseball player and inherited his devotion to the New York Yankees from his father, a New York native.

Strangely enough, years later, I ran into Michelle Stoyan as I sought reaction to another story at a local soccer field. She asked me if I remembered her. I immediately did and asked if PJ was around.

Sure enough, there he was, 8 years old. Something about seeing PJ deeply moved me. Here was this boy who represented that day we felt hopeful, that life must go on, despite all the horror we saw before us. That baby was now a young boy who had no idea why I wanted to take a photo with him.

I decided to check in with PJ as he turned 10 years old. It ends up, he's starting to understand what happened to the nation on his historic birthdate.

PJ is a fourth-grader at Westchase Elementary. His favorite subject is science because in fourth grade you get to "mix stuff up."

At Westchase this week, students are learning about the Sept. 11 attacks. He told me, "It's got me wondering about more things, like what other people are responsible for that."

PJ has started figuring out why adults give him that stunned sort of look when he reveals his date of birth.

"Maybe it's just that they think it's a very sad day and they are surprised I was born on that day or they just don't want to tell me something sad that happened to their neighbors or relatives."

PJ is hopeful that those who are still hurting from 9/11 feel comfort in knowing Osama bin Laden is gone. But the boy who dreams of being a professional baseball player one day — and a professional drummer as a backup plan — told me something he's figuring out about freedom.

"I'm just proud to be an American, where it's a free country because you can do things that are bad but it's not forbidden."

PJ thinks it would be a lot easier on the victims' families if images of the attacks didn't replay on TV over and over again. "It makes them feel so much more sad about what happened."

On Sunday, PJ plans to celebrate his birthday with his family at a Buccaneers game. "I think I'm going to be able to celebrate my birthday, even though I am reminded that day was a sad day."

When I asked him if he had the choice, if he could go back in time and change the day he was born to a different day, he said no.

He said his family loves him, and he's had so many happy birthdays, he is grateful for every chapter of his life, including the first one.