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2002-09-16

In Loving Memory of James A. Nelson
July 10, 1961 - September 11, 2001


Port Authority Police Officer James A. Nelson was working at the PAPD academy in Jersey City on the morning of September 11th. He was sent to the World Trade Center immediately after the first plane hit. A man filled with pride and respect for the job he loved, he never questioned his own safety. His wife Rosanne spoke to him briefly as he was leaving. None of us knew that would be the last time any of us would speak to Jimmy. I spoke with Rosanne at 9:05am and Jimmy was already there. I watched the towers fall with my co-workers, knowing that he was there, but not yet comprehending the full horror of what had happened and how our lives would be forever changed.
In the agonizing days and weeks that followed I heard myself reassure others that ?it wasn?t Jimmy?s time?. I was sure they?d find him alive. We heard several versions of what happened and where he was that day. We prayed and we tried to keep hope. As time passed we slowly came to the realization that Jimmy was never going to return to us. I knew he was gone after an incident involving a false report about five Port Authority officers being located. On Thursday evening, September 13th, a woman reported that her husband, a missing N.Y.P.D. officer called her on his cell phone. He told her her where he was and that he was with five Port Authority officers. It was on the news, Port Authority even called my sister-in-law saying they thought it might be Jimmy. At midnight I was printing out directions to St. Vincent?s Hospital and thanking God for saving him. Then the story disappeared from the news. The clock slowly ticked on. Finally at 4am, I spoke with a Port Authority official who told me that the call was a cruel hoax by a very disturbed woman. My heart broke that night and my world shattered. I knew that my baby brother was not coming back.
On the morning of September 22, the Port Authority Police escorted us for the first time to ?Ground Zero?. Witnessing the devastation that day brought it home for us that Jimmy was truly gone. On Monday, September 24, Jimmy?s body was recovered on the north side of tower one on Vesey Street. The PAPD has concluded that Jimmy had evacuated a group of people from tower one and was killed on the street by falling debris.
Jimmy, along with so many others that day, died a true American hero. I am so proud of him but I don?t want him to only be defined by his tragic death. I want the world to know how he lived. Jimmy was my younger brother. A 40 year old man with everything to live for. He had a wife he cherished and two beautiful girls he adored. We lost our parents at an early age. That had quite an impact on Jimmy. He treasured his family and the simple things in life. His daughter?s softball games, attending a parent-teacher conference or even making a minor home repair gave him great joy. He was a true family man, wanting his children to have the childhood we never had.
Our childhood while not exactly ideal was happy. Maybe we just didn?t know any better. We were poor, our Dad died when we were very young but we had each other and we held on tight. People from the neighborhood have since said to me that no one ever referred to us as ? Kitty? or? Jimmy? . We were always ?Kitty and Jimmy Nelson?. Our simple pastimes such as making tents out of blankets, football on the front lawn with our older brother Bobby and fighting over who drew their initial in the new jar of peanut butter have a very special place in my heart.
I missed most of Jimmy?s high school years because I was away at college. Once Jimmy graduated he frequently visited me in Oneonta. I?d like to say this was solely because of our close bond but I?m pretty sure the partying in my sorority house and at T he Copper Fox was largely responsible. Regardless we had fun. It was a new era in our lives.
Our Mom died soon afterwards. Jimmy was with her when it happened. That was probably the toughest thing he ever had to handle. I married, bought the house we grew up in and Jimmy stayed with us those first few years. It was a strange time. I felt part-sister and part-Mom. Jimmy graduated from Saint John?s University, joined the PAPD, married and began his own family. This should have been the time our families could have done things together.
Jimmy was by no means a saint but he was a great guy. His smile was one of his most defining characteristics. Always ready with a joke, he loved life and laughter. In the weeks and months that followed his death I came to realize how sentimental my brother was. He kept scrapbooks of everything. He took an interest in all our lives, always wanting to hear what we were doing and where we were going. He was proud of our successes
and felt our pain when we failed. He was involved in his community, his church and life. He was always ready to give something of himself. He had also developed a passion for writing. He spent any free moments typing away on the computer, hoping to one day be published.
Jimmy lived about 2 ? hours away and we didn?t get to see each other as often as we would have liked. Everytime my brother left my house he would give me one of his big bear hugs, tell me that he loved me and that he wished he could see more of me. Now he is so much further away than New Jersey. I miss him so much. In my heart I do believe I will see him again but for now I must live with memories and pictures. I?m proud of him on so many levels. He is a national hero but he?s also my hero for his compassion and integrity, for bringing smiles and happiness to so many others and for his appreciation of family and the simple joys in life. September 11th has forever changed our lives and our hearts. Jimmy of all people would want us to go on with our lives. I will always keep a part of him with me. I am going to try to live my life with his humor, his compassion, and his love.