I continue to follow this story in the hope that the remains of 2 of my friends might some day be found.

Posted by: Michele at 06:52 PM | No Comments | Add Comment
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With each new human remains discovery I wonder if this will finally be the time that Mike's remains will be identified.

Posted by: Michele at 02:05 PM | No Comments | Add Comment
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We go through life hoping that as we live, it not only holds meaning for us, but that it has an impact on the lives of those around us. This post is in celebration of one such amazing life that accomplished much, very successfully, during his short time here on earth.

Larry: This song is dedicated to you.

LarryÂ’s love and enthusiasm for his life, was only exceeded by his love for family and close friends. This was followed closely by his love for his city and his country. To know Larry was to like him. To like him and be lucky enough to spend time with him was to have the wonderful opportunity to get to love him. I was one of those lucky and blessed enough to have had him in my life for a number of years. I always thought of him as an angel who walked the earth.
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Posted by: Michele at 12:13 AM | Comments (4) | Add Comment
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Five years ago I participated in my first 10k race on Labor Day. It was also my first major practice with Tom, the running buddy assigned to me by The Achilles Track Team, whom I was to spot for. Tom was blind, and like me loved running, even though we weren't very fast. He had trained me on how to run tethered to him and also taught me how to listen to his breathing as a way to know how he was doing in a run without asking and wasting precious energy and time. Tom explained it was the best way to identify the first signs of trouble. That Labor Day, all my friends were there to cheer me on. It had been a high point for all of us, because we were all finally ready to compete in the NYC Marathon that fall.

I used that listening technique many times when running with my best friends. It really gave me insight into how they were feeling during a run. For years we had worked out together, but our running together gave us a closeness and a feel for each other that was uncanny. For the first time few words needed to be exchanged between us.

The morning after Labor Day we were all supposed to meet early at the gym to do a quick 5 mile run along the Batter Park City Waterfront that goes past the World Trade Center, but my plans changed.

When Mike called me later that morning he was on the 72nd floor of the North Tower. I had been on the phone with him for about 15 min. let him know what was going on with the South Tower when Larry called and asked me to conference him in on the call. We'd done that a thousand times on Fridays or Saturday afternoons when no one could agree on what we were doing that evening. This time it was for a different reason.

The FDNY radios were not functioning properly and it was total chaos inside the towers, so this time I was conferencing them in so they could communicate with each other. I listened silently and stood by as I'd done countless times during impromptu rescues. That day my role was once again as witness and bystander, but I was to be a messenger also. I interrupted only once to let them know the Pentagon had been hit and we all grew silent as their suspicions were now confirmed - we were under attack. Knowing they had walked into a "tinder box" they gave me messages and information for their families in the event they didn't make it out alive.

While Mike and Larry spoke, I heard their labored breathing from the strain of heavy equipment and acrid smoke getting through their masks. They continued going up the narrow smoke filled staircases in full gear, in spite of the rising temperatures and enveloping darkness. Hearing the loud creaks from the straining weight of the floors above, I began to panic. I broke in, calling out Mike's name. We'd known each other for so long that he knew what I was about to say, to ask of him.

"Don't say it, Michele. I know what you're going to ask, and you know we can't turn back now. So I clutched my cell phone, closed my eyes, and hung my head in prayer. A few times I bit down hard on my lips knowing that anything I said or any sound I made would only distract them and force them to talk and waste precious oxygen.

So instead, I listened... silently and intently, as Larry & MIke communicated with each other in quick short words. I listened as they gave commands to civilians on what to do. I listened as they reassured people that were frightened and choking on acrid smoke, that they would be fine as long they continued going down. I listened as they continued to climb through the thick dense darkness that enveloped them, and grew hotter and more difficult with each step they took. And in my silence, with my closed eyes, I had been with them as I had many times before, and was privy once again to the sounds of their breaths.

As the creaking sounds grew louder, everyone came to a standstill and their voices became quieter. I held my breath, as I listened to Mike and Larry's labored breathing. Everyone had stopped to listen to the sounds above them. Mike and Larry remained quiet even as the rumble of thunder from the upper floors began giving way. There was no panic, no screams, no frantic yells for help; there was only Mike's voice whispering a "Dear God" before the sounds of loud crashing ended in an abysmal silence that reverberates in my soul to this day.

It's taken a long time for me to break that silence. It's still not easy to write about it. And I still can't about it. But for some time now, this blog has helped me utter the first innermost sounds since that day. I remain hopeful that someday I'll be able to find my full voice again. Till that happens, these small whispers of pain will have to be the small breaths that open a closed soul to let the airy light in.

Posted by: Michele at 12:29 PM | Comments (34) | Add Comment
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In a recent post DC asked how our tributes are going. IÂ’ve been sorta working on mine for a week now. Rick, Nancy, Mike and the others will be covered by other bloggers. I've written about them before in the past so I was glad to see they are being memorialized by others. IÂ’ve corresponded with 2 of these bloggers to offer them personal intimate anecdotes of my beloved friends that would help give them a different perspective than the brief profile done by the New York Times.

Through the 2996 project I asked to be given 2 people to post tributes for, because so far they only have 63% of people covered. My first assignment, Allison Horstmann Jones, was a random assignment by the program developed for this project. Her tribute was easy to do, then again, I really donÂ’t know her and all I had to do is research her info and pick the items I thought were important to share with everyone. IÂ’ve already completed the first draft of my tribute and just need to do clean it up before posting hers.

The second tribute is for someone I asked DC if he would assign to me. Its for one of my dearest and closest friends, Larry. Ironically, when I checked the list he hadnÂ’t been assigned to anyone. IÂ’ve written about all the others at various times but never about Larry. DonÂ’t know what the mental or spiritual block is but IÂ’ve just never been able to. Just even writing this has made me break down in tears. At his funeral service I turned down his girlfriendÂ’s request to go up and eulogize him. How do you encampsulate over 15years of friendship in just a few minutes. My excuse back then was that by the time his service came around I had already participated in 4 others services and I just couldnÂ’t do another. But somehow I knew there was more to it because I barely made it to the church in time for the service.

That morning I laid in bed unable to move. My spirit and body remained frozen in the same position for hours even after my PDA reminder kept going off. Eventually, Larry’s famous catch phrase and the last words he said to me after I pleaded with him not to go up the tower immediately came back to me: “I’ve got to go, duty calls.” and with that example and reminder in my head I rolled out of bed and onto the floor on all 4 limbs. I kept talking to myself to get up off the floor, much like he did when I had fallen at the hospital during my endless Rehab sessions as he pushed my brain to send messages to my leg muscles to begin to move again.

That day would be filled with memories of him and how he touched my life through the years in a thousand different ways. It has been no different than the 1799 days that have followed. Once again thereÂ’s a thousand small reminders of you dear friend. As I made dinner for my son and house guests last night I recalled how many times you must have stopped by after your shift just to see what I had cooked and whether or not it merited you sitting down with me for dinner or whether it merely would be a quick snack for your drive home. At one point last night I could have sworn I caught a glimpse of you over my eyeglasses, plate in hand, mouth full and chewing while making loud sounds meant to indicate how good it tasted. When I refocused my vision through my eyeglasses I saw it was my brother in law who just wanted to let me know he loved what he was eating so much he wanted to check and see if there were leftovers.

Larry, this morning you may see tears on my face but they are not just tears of sadness and of lossÂ… they are also tears of gratitude and thankfulness that you were there for me every time I fell or faltered and helped nudge me, move me, even push me along my path. And yes, I finally do agreeÂ… failure (even in this) is not an option!

Thanks for being part of my heart in tears and joy!

Posted by: Michele at 11:41 AM | Comments (2) | Add Comment
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Yesterday was an inexplicably bad day. It was actually the worst day I've had since 9/11. I still havenÂ’t been able to figure out what actually happened but near as my counselor and I can figure out I seem to have had a full blown auditory/sensory flashback to the morning of 9/11.

Since last night I've been wondering how it is that soldiers deal with this?
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Posted by: Michele at 01:22 PM | Comments (7) | Add Comment
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I will not let that jerk (Moussai's) last words be the final ones on this site. I will instead look to the spirit of defiance we have as a nation and cling to hope and inspiration from the examples of strength, courage of those who continue to llive, love and survive.

Posted by: Michele at 09:38 AM | Comments (3) | Add Comment
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1 And know that he's rotting, completely alone in that jail cell.

Posted by: Ogre at May 05, 2006 12:08 PM (/k+l4)

2 Hey! I can't comment on other posts, only this one!

Posted by: Ogre at May 11, 2006 03:13 PM (/k+l4)

3 WANTED . Lots of positive thoughts sent my way. . Thanks! Might be easier to get if comments weren't closed on that post. Positive thoughts coming yer way regardless...!

Posted by: Tuning Spork at May 14, 2006 04:53 AM (0pApE)

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"Moussaoui walked into the courtroom flashing a victory sign. `God save Osama bin Laden - you will never get him','' the AP reported.

I becme angry reading this. My reaction is that keeping him alive in a maximum security prison will not bring back my friends nor provide them or me with justice. Instead, I and thousands of others will be paying for him to house, clothe, provide health, dental, entertainment, receive mail, etc. for the rest of his days. All of these are things my friends will never get to do and I will never get to witness or share with them.

My idea of true justice is for Moussaoui to have a bare room with nothing on the walls or in the room. I would not let him have access to any reading material, including mail and the koran, or any writing material.

The only thing allowed would be a small mat on the floor with open electrical wires attached to an adhesive tape on one side with a pan of water nearby. That way he eventually do us all a favor and do what the jurors in VA didn't get to do - make him fry!

My jury is still out on the FBI supervisors who didn't take the info he had regardgin 9-11 prior to the attack seriously. I think there's a special place in hell for them so I'll leave them to their Karmic fate for now.

Posted by: Michele at 10:25 AM | No Comments | Add Comment
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A friend once told me, "Its important to look back at our history, especially personal history, because it leads to understanding the truth, your place within it and leads to your personal enlightenment." Its the search for the truth which makes me glad to see the film United 93 in theaters shortly.

Unlike most New Yorkers, I welcome the opening of United 93. Whenever I share this point of view with co-workers I get many shocked looks. Most New Yorkers prefer not to look at our past. They say to me with angst in their voice and fear in their eyes “its too soon” or “why revisit the past?” I look at them and know the pain that lurks beneath the surface. It's the same denial people chose in 1993 in order to forget that bombing of the World Trade Center. It's this denial that caused the death and destruction of the WTC 7 years later.

The absolute truth is that its not too soon. In fact, its long overdue and an important film for all to see. Especially as the body count climbs in Iraq and gasoline prices soar in the US and elsewhere, causing many to get angry and look for someone to blame. Not knowing any better they blame our Government and not the oil producers who have held us hostage before. Sadly, an increasing number of people around the world are starting to believe many of the conspiracy . theories . surrounding 9/11 that are being circulated about.

We who lived through the death and destruction of 9/11, who had our lives impacted by the smells of charred flesh and saw the smoldering office furniture and building materials burning for weeks afterwards know differently. Even if most donÂ’t want to take a look at the past, they cannot deny that 9/11 happened.

For others, the showing of United 93 and the upcoming Oliver Stone movie World Trade Center, will force Americans to examine not only their beliefs surrounding 9/11, but also examine their politics and their position on the War in Iraq. I welcome the showing of this movie because it illustrates what happened to all of us on that beautiful clear blue morning. The truth is there, in the words, sounds and images that were taken directly from Emergency 911 recordings, conversations and voice mail messages left for loved ones, and from the FAA recordings of that day. Absent will be the rhetoric, the slants, the spins, of those who would subvert the truth and history for their own purpose.

I hope this film is seen by everyone, as a reminder for those who have forgotten or have placed blame elsewhere for why this war started. As a reminder for Americans especially, who are bitching at the high price of oil, and blaming anyone other than themselves for the current dependency we find ourselves in. A dependency with the very people who have a seething hatred for our way of life and principles, and who have financially supported and exported terrorism to our land and others.

I hope, no I pray United 93 causes movie goers to finally take a look at the facts so they can finally see, that Al Qaeda's multi-phase launch of their war agains us, of which the World Trade Center was the beginning of Phase 2 (with the aim to ultimately eradicating Americans and our culture from the face of the earth), has been successful.

I welcome the opportunity for the truth to be examined - historically, politically and critically. IÂ’m just sorry that it takes a movie to re-awaken American's dormant political and ideological spirit, to the historical facts of what really happened that day.

And if you are unable or unwilling to take a look at the past, then rest assured, "Those who fail to examine history are doomed to repeat it."¹

Posted by: Michele at 10:25 AM | Comments (4) | Add Comment
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Today, as I was packing my first box of many, in my impending move to my new work location, I came across my special ID card holder for my World Trade Center Pass (which Rick personally gave me a few weeks before 9/11, so I would stop losing my ID card. With that came many flashbacks and memories of times passed and renewed goodbyes.

That got me to thinking of the hateful posturing and war of words being waged in Washington this past week. These bitter, divisive words do a great dishonor to the men and women who sacrifice much in service to our country and trash the memory of those that have died since the mid 90's. More importantly, they ignore the undeniable truth that was reported (and has yet to resurface) by reputable MSM outlets.

What is even more important is that our servicemen/women really don't need to read or hear in the media they were lied to by their Commander in Chief and the American People are no longer behind them. Did the media and these politicians learn nothing from Vietnam? Don't they remember how demoralizing it is for the troops and their families? How divisive it was for our nation?

For me the whole situation is much simpler because the truth is with me from the moment I awake in the morning to the moment I lose conciousness to sleep every evening. It stares at me daily from lower Manhattan in the visual gap that is absent from the skyline. My soul has a permanent reminder of the loss we've had to live with on a daily basis these last fifteen years.

Of course, the loss for me started much earlier than for most. It started way before the attacks on 9/11. For me the goodbyes began way before the attacks on USS Cole and the American Embassies in Africa. It all started for me when I travelled briefly through Morroco, Singapore and Malaysia. It was an attitude, a pervasive feeling... no, it was more of an entrenched philosophy that I became aware of prior to even leaving this country, during my graduate studies. The philosophy that Americans were hated and our patriotism and service to our country was evil. It was the loss of respect and loss of love for the democratic principles our country stood for. It was the total disregard for the sanctity of human life and the adoption of a philosophy of hatred, in which any violent act against the US, especially its citizens was justifiable because it was cloaked in the fallacy of legitimate warfare, which was declared against our country prior to the first World Trade Center bombing.

It was that rhetoric and declaration of war that culminated in the murder of my friends, and the destruction of a way of life.

One of the deaths was the sense of freedom and carefree lifestlye we all enjoyed. Some of it has returned to us amidst the multi-layers of security. But for those in DC who have forgotten I have a reminder, that lack of fear and ability to wage war with words and history has come at a very high price. The cost has been ignoring the great sacrifice of the incredible men and women who serve to protect these freedoms. The cost has been that of families temporarily splintered as a result of 1 of their own's dedication to our principles of freedom.

So, while the posturing and the war of words continue, I want to let these men and women know that I for one am very grateful for what they have done for us, and for what they to do, and continue to give up in order for the bozo's in DC to be able to debate so freely, and without any concern about their safety as they get into their SUV's and go home to their loved ones to enjoy a hot, home cooked meal.

To those who serve with dedication, with heart and for love of country, I Thank You! I thank you for all you've done and given to us; in particular your courage, for when lower Manhattan and the Pentagon smoldered in ashes many of you reported for duty, ready, willing and able to do what needed to be done to protect our beloved country. So today, wherever you may be, may your holiday be full of peace, security and a comraderie that will fill your hearts, to make the abscence of your loved ones less poignant.

And to the Battalions and Quarter Master Unit that just returned home to NYC after serving one whole year in Iraq - Welcome HOME!

I send you a heart-filled hug to you all!

Posted by: Michele at 04:50 PM | Comments (9) | Add Comment
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Gov. Pataki, finally heard the quiet, yet emotional appeals of the majority of the 9/11 families, that he stop the Port Authority (under his command) and developers from erecting a controversial museum called The Freedom Center from surrounding and drowning out the 9/11 memorial.

The families compelling and poignant appeals were made during the nationwide televised 9/11 memorial service. Many others wore Tshirts showing their anger over this museum being built there and detracting from the solemness of the site through its anti-american exhibits.

In the end, political expediency won over money& connections.

Posted by: Michele at 09:02 AM | Comments (4) | Add Comment
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Today, close to 10,000 people, most of them police, fire fighters, military veterans, and their families and friends will follow in the footsteps of an American Hero, Firefighter Stephen Siller. On 9-11, Steve ran through the Brooklyn/Battery Tunnel (almost 3 miles) in full 80lb gear to race to the Twin Towers in order to help his fellow firefighters with their rescue efforts.

May they all have a wonderful race!

Posted by: Michele at 08:32 AM | No Comments | Add Comment
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