nmah5708.xml

nmah5708.xml

born-digital

story

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2003-09-10

A Fireman's Funeral
Like many New Yorkers I saw the planes hit as I turned on the television. I was looking for some distraction as I did my morning exercises. I couldn't truly comprehend what I was seeing. I watched for hours. My daughter, a high school senior came home from school about 11 AM. My husband, who worked for CBS, worked non-stop and wasn't home the first day at all.

We wanted to do something. We didn't know what. A plea went out for socks and T-shirts. So Kadi, my daughter, and I went to a nearby store and bought as much as we could afford. We live about three blocks from the local firehouse. As we walked over with our bag, we saw people coming from all over: Central Park West, the projects. West End Avenue and Riverside Drive. People carrying bags and people carrying platters of food. The police precinct is next to the firehouse. Our neighbors streamed into these buildings with their offerings. It was very quiet. The cops and the firefighters gentle "thank you"s were easily heard. When we went in to the firehouse, we were greated and thanked but the moment that I remember most was seeing the empty boots of firemen standing next to the trucks ready for their owners to jump into them and rush to the next emergency. I thought it would break my heart.

We love our firemen in this neighborhood. They wave to the little children and often set off the sirens for a moment...just for their delight. They collect food and clothing for the poor and open the firehouse to the neighborhood schools. The Fireman's Memorial is near my home and we yearly watch the service for the departed each Fall. The thought of the loss of so many brave men was unbearable. September 12, we held a neighborhood vigil at the memorial. We lit candles and sang. The Fire Captain came to thank us. We were all crying.

Later in the week, as the enormity of the Fire Department's loss became apparent and funerals were being held. Mayor Giuliani asked those of us who could, to attend the funerals since there were so many and the normal service for a fallen fireman with thousands of their brothers in attendance were almost impossible. Three hundred and forty three funerals. The ceremonial units with the bagpipers and the Honor Guard were being thinly stretched. The Mayor wanted a large and dignified funeral for each fallen hero. They had divided up the bagpipers so that they could attend more funerals. They had hastily trained men to become part of the ceremonial units, but it was barely enough.

A notice appeared in shop windows in my neighborhood, a funeral mass was to be held for a firefighter. I decided to go. The church, in the West 80's was full when I got there. The streets were filling up with local people who wanted to pay their repects. We learned that this firefighter had been a Marine, was married and left a wife who was pregnant and two other children. Standing in the street were police, firefighters and two buglers, one a firefighter and one a Marine. We could not hear the service but we stood there anyway out of respect and grief. The doors to the Church opened and the processional out of the Church began. The young firefighter's widow came first, being helped by her family. Then, the oldest child, a daughter, walked alone out of the Church, carrying her father's dusty, dirty helmet. With that, everyone was crying. I looked at the Marine Honor Guard. Big tough men, polished to perfection. Tears were running down their faces. Then the buglers played taps, the Fire Department bugler echoing the Marine. The casket was put on a flag draped firetruck and slowly moved away. At that moment, if I could have, I would have shot Ben Laden myself. I love this city. I love its people. I was born here. This is my home. I was so sad and so angry. I still am.

I am more fearful since the attack. I am certaily more angry. I am touched by the kindness of the people of this city and the nation as a whole. I got emails from all over the country (even from a lady in South Carolina from whom I had made an ebay purchase)! She wrote to ask if we were all right and to say that they were all praying for us. We have a home in Vermont. We went there after the attack. It was raining as we drove into town but standing in the rain were members of our laocal volunteer fire department with a fireboot out, asking for donations for New York City.

One day, about 5 or 6 days after the attack, I was walking on Broadway and there was what looked like a parade. It was a group of firemen from Michigan who had walked here to raise money and to help. It was astonishing to see the outpouring of help, care and concern.

We should remember the innocent lives that were brutally taken. We should remember the goodness of the American people. We should remember the goodness of our friends throughout the world. We should never,ever forget the price of evil and fight it where ever we can.

Yes, not only did I put a flag in my window, but I wore a flag pin for a long time. I have always loved the flag and what it stands for.