Remembrance of Things Past
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Today we are all New Yorkers again
We remember, we mourn, and we do not forgive. (Please be patient whilst it's loading)
One of the most touching eulogies:
Eulogy of Capt. Francis J. Callahan, of Engine Company 40 and Ladder Company 35, FDNY, who perished Sept. 11. The eulogy was delivered by Capt. James Gormley, Dec. 10, 2001:
"Captains and lieutenants of the New York City Fire Department share a special relationship with other officers of similar rank. When we meet for the first time we introduce ourselves to each other, we shake hands, we measure each other's resolve and fortitude. At Operations our aggressiveness is based on the trust we share in each other.
Firefighters and their officers share a different, but also special relationship. Officers very literally lead firefighters into harm's way. We go first. If things go badly we are required by our oath and tradition to be the last of our command to leave. Accountability for our men is carved into our heart. Responsibility for our men, their wives and children are in the depth of our soul.
This is why we are here today. Capt. Frank Callahan is the ranking officer killed at the World Trade Center from
Captains, especially commanding officers of companies in the same quarters, have a unique relationship. We know each other as no else ever will. We are commanding officers of complementary companies. We cannot work successfully without each other. There are not many of us, you could fit us in one fair-sized room. We are not always friends. There is too much at stake, but our respect, and trust in each other, is unquestioned.
Frank Callahan was more than my friend, to simply call him brother would not do our relationship justice. Frank was my comrade. It's harder to be a comrade than a friend. It's different than being a brother.
Friends and brothers forgive your mistakes. They are happy to be with you. You can relax and joke with them. You can take your ease with them--tell them tall tales.
Comrades are different. Comrades forgive nothing. They can't. They need you to be better. They keep you sharp. They take your words literally.
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When a friend dies we miss them, we regret words unspoken, we remember the love. When a brother dies we grieve for the future without him. His endless possibilities. If your brother doesn't die of old age you might never accept the parting. When a comrade dies we miss them, we regret words unspoken, we remember the love, we grieve the future without them. We are also proud. Proud to have known a good man, a better man than ourselves. We respect the need for him to leave, to rest.
Some people equate camaraderie with being jovial. It is anything but. Camaraderie is sharing hardship. It is shouts and commands, bruises and cuts. It's a sore back and lungs that burn from exertion. It's heat on your neck and a pit in your stomach. It's a grimy handshake and a hug on wet shoulders when we're safe. It's not being asleep when it's your turn on watch. It is trust, it is respect, it is acting honorably.
You hold your comrade up when he can't stand on his own. You breathe for him when his body's forgotten how. It's lifting a man up who loves his wife and children as much as you love your own. Looking them in the eye for the rest of your life and trying to explain, and not being able to. You kiss them for him. It's laying him down gently when his name appears on God's roll call. It's remembering his name. I'll never forget his name. He was just what he was called: Frank. You never had to chase your answer. He said it to your face.
It's at the same time being both amazed and proud that you've known men like him. Looking for your reflection in their image. Seeing it. Knowing you're one of them.
There's a song out of Ireland. A line of it says, "Comrade tread lightly, you're near to a hero's grave." If you ever said that to Frank he would have given you the "look" and pushed past you in the hallway.
Frank was light on his feet but he never tread anywhere lightly. When Frank did something it was like a sharp axe biting into soft fresh pine, with a strong sure stroke. It was done. It was right. It meant something. It was refreshing. It smelled good.
Quite often we discussed history. The successes and failures of political, military and social leadership. The depth and broadness of Frank's historical knowledge was astounding.
I've been told Frank enjoyed a practical joke. We never joked together. Rarely laughed. We never sought out each other's company on days off. We never went golfing or fishing. We never went for a hike in the Shawangunk Mountains together. We were often happier apart than we ever were together because we shared the nightmares of command.
We shared problems. We shared stress. We shared dark thoughts that are now front-page news. Incredulous at the failures of leadership that have borne fruit. We shared the proposition of a time and place where few would dare to go. He went there because it was his turn. He called his wife, Angie, before he received his orders to respond. He told her what was going on. He told her things didn't look good; he told her he loved her.
Historically it is said, "They rode to the sound of the guns":
Capt. Frank Callahan, Lt. John Ginley,
Firefighter 1 Gr. Bruce Gary
Firefighter 1 Gr. James Giberson
Firefighter 1 Gr. Michael Otten
Firefighter 1 Gr. Kevin Bracken
Firefighter 1 Gr. Steve Mercado
Firefighter 1 Gr. Michael Roberts
Firefighter 1 Gr. John Marshall
Firefighter 3 Gr. Vincent Morello
Firefighter 3 Gr. Michael Lynch
Firefighter 6 Gr. Michael D'Auria
and Firefighter 2 Gr. Kevin Shea
We went down there knowing things could go badly. We stayed until we were exhausted, got three hours sleep and went back again, and again. That's what comrades do. Only luck and circumstance separate us from them.
It is significant that we are in Lincoln Center for the Performing Arts. The first performance here was "West Side Story," the story of this neighborhood. This Act is part of that story. It is more than we can absorb in one lifetime, so the story must be told until it makes sense.
It is poignant because the arts have helped mankind deal with reality since stories were told round the fire and we drew on cave walls. The arts help us exercise our emotions. We are surrounded by art and overwhelmed by our emotions. From the pictures children have drawn for us, the poetry, songs, and banners, to the concerts, plays and operas that we have been invited to attend--use the arts to heal your heart. Exercise your emotions. Feel anger, feel hate, feel love and pride. Run the gamut of your emotions until you settle where you belong, as good honorable men, every inch the equal of our comrades, friends and brothers. That's what they want. That's what your families need. That's what you deserve
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Frank was a trusted leader, a captain. The best commander I've encountered here, or in the military. It was important to him. We both believed captain to be the most important rank in the department. He was forged by his family, his comrades, every officer and firefighter that he ever worked with. He was tempered by his experience.
History, the record of successes and failures of leadership, has caused us to be here. Capt. Frank Callahan did not fail in his leadership. He led his command where they were needed, and he's the last of them to leave. If more of the world's leaders were forged as he was, our world would not be in its current state.
Frank Callahan is a star, a reference point. A defined spot on the map of humanity. Guide on him to navigate the darkness. You will not wander, you will not become lost."
Visit Ed Morrissey, the talented blogger @ Captain's Quarters, for a heartfelt story on how the September 11 experience affected his life.
Joe Katzman @ Winds of Change has an incredible collection of links to stories, documentaries, photographs, articles on September 11th, and it's aftermath. The war on terror that continues, together with stories from survivors, anecdotes about the loved ones that perished, and the ones they left behind.
Michelle Malkin has some great links. You should also read a beautiful story called "Angels on Loan from God", written by her in Dec.2001, in rememberance of the children who died at the hands of the terrorists.
'Publius Rendezvous', has some incredible images, and a touching letter - 'We'll go forward from this moment on':
Rick Moran has as usual an incredible essay 'From News, to History, to Myth. A must read.
Siblings Read the Roll at Ground Zero.
In case you have missed this incredibly moving and well put together compilation of photographs and audio from 911 Digital Archive 'America Attacked', dedicated to the men, women and children who lost their lives, and the heroes that responded, which I showed at the top of the post (Please be patient whilst it is loading, it's well worth the wait!)
Professor Bainbridge has a warning, another threat in an apparent communique broadcast on ABC news today. The peaceful Muslims with a message of 'peace' on their terms. As laid down by the laws of Islam. Really? Wait, let me rush off and search for the Koran.
And the finger goes up for Osama 'Been Forgotten's' friend Adam Gadahn who issued the threat. Today is not your day.
Nor is it the day of the Muslims in Britain, who have chosen today to announce that they wish to replace 'Holocaust Memorial Day' with a 'Genocide Day' that would include recognition of Muslim deaths in the West Bank and Gaza, Chechnya and Bosnia. Prime Minister Blair's advisors seemed to have taken the bait. How naive can you actually be? As David Bernstein @ The Volokh Conspiracy points out:
"Even worse is the idea that a new "Genocide Day" would include "Muslim deaths in the West Bank and Gaza," thus giving credence to the absurd contention that Israeli policies in those areas amount to "genocide," and thus replacing a memorial to victims of the Holocaust with the fantastical political propaganda of those whose political ancestors (e.g.the Grand Mufti of Jerusalem, Haj Muhammed Amin al-Husseini) allied with the Nazis."
And finally a calming prayer by Stacey Randall:
'Silent Night 911'
"You say you will never forget where you were when you heard the news on September 11, 2001.
Neither will I.
I was on the 110th floor in a smoke filled room with a man who called his wife to say “Good-Bye.” I held his fingers steady as he dialed. I gave him the peace to say, “Honey, I am not going to make it, but it is OK…I am ready to go.”
I was with his wife when he called as she fed breakfast to their children. I held her up as she tried to understand his words and as she realized he wasn’t coming home that night.
I was in the stairwell of the 23rd floor when a woman cried out to Me for help. “I have been knocking on the door of your heart for 50 years!” I said. “Of course I will show you the way home - only believe in Me now.”
I was at the base of the building with the Priest ministering to the injured and devastated souls. I took him home to fend to his Flock in Heaven. He heard my voice and answered.
I was on all four of those planes, in every seat, with every prayer. I was with the crew as they were overtaken. I was in the very hearts of the believers there, comforting and assuring them that their faith has saved them.
I was in Texas, Kansas, London. I was standing next to you when you heard the terrible news. Did you sense Me? I want you to know that I saw every face. I knew every name -though not all know Me.
Some met Me for the first time on the 86th floor.
Some sought Me with their last breath.
Some couldn’t hear Me calling to them through the smoke and flames; “Come to Me… this way… take my hand.” Some chose, for the final time, to ignore Me. But, I was there.
I did not place you in the Tower that day. You may not know why, but I do. However, if you were there in that explosive moment in time, would you have reached for Me?
September 11, 2001 was not the end of the journey for you. But someday your journey will end. And I will be there for you as well.
Seek Me now while I may be found. Then, at any moment, you know you are “ready to go.”
I will be in the stairwell of your final moments.
Remember......I love you."
This post will continue to be updated throughout the week.
I appreciate you linking with my site, and I enjoyed your tribute on September 11th. It is so hard to believe it has been that long ago, it only feels like yesterday. It was a pleasure, and meaningful to commerate that day, and I thank you for what that meant.
Please feel free to visit anytime, and I look forward to returning, please send me an e-mail or comment if you would/care if I added you to my blogroll.
Posted by: Publius Rendezvous | Monday, September 12, 2005 at 08:14 PM
The film "We remember, we mourn, and we do not forgive" is really excellent. What a job to put all these photos together. Only now could I see the whole horrible impact and get a clear picture of the horror and terror of that day, especially for us in Europe. It is a wonderful thing to put all the information together so that nobody forgets.
It's amazing, no matter where one was in the world, we will always remember that day. Excellent work!
Posted by: Lilly | Tuesday, September 13, 2005 at 11:06 AM
Alexandra, I am grateful for your photos and your post. As tempting as it may be to seek out the consoling imagery and thus meditate upon same, it is in fact absolutely necessary to relive up-close and personal the horror and carnage of this fateful day. It is absolutely necessary to hear the screams of horrified New Yorkers and news commentators. Emotions need to be stirred up; brought back into the Here and Now. Tears need to well up - the slide show did just that.
Why? Because otherwise 9/11 gradually shifts more and more into the abstract. Seeing the falling men and women. Imagining what drove them to take THIS leap of death and how long they had to think about their inevitable fate before impact. What were their thoughts, racing at equal speed as their harrowing decent?!?
Blogs like yours have contributed to achieving a true 'Remembrance' and not a 'Memorial'!
Thank you.'
Posted by: North by Northwest | Tuesday, September 13, 2005 at 12:53 PM
Here’s a 9-11 memorial site (http://www.truthorfiction.com/rumors/c/christinehanson.htm) that should be on the linked list. This memorial site contains a poem about Christine Hanson, a two year old girl flying with her parents on United 175 on 9-11-01. Readers may recall that some gallant visitors from our faithful Saudi and Egyptian allies slit the throats of the stewardesses and crew, terrorized the passengers and rammed the plane into the World Trade Center. The poem was written from the perspective of Christine on that day.
I’m sure that the poem can be fairly criticized as insufficiently sophisticated, ironic or artful (in a post-modern sort of way). Still, I wish that every member of Congress, the media and our foreign policy/national security bureaucracy would read it before taking an action related to the Patriot Act, NSA, Iranian WMD, etc.
Posted by: MarcH | Sunday, February 05, 2006 at 02:44 PM
I am Canadian. What do you think about the conspiracy theories concerning 911 not being a terrorist attack?
Posted by: Justin Deveault | Friday, August 18, 2006 at 01:18 PM
I am Canadian. What do you think about the conspiracy theories concerning 911 not being a terrorist attack?
Posted by: Justin Deveault | Friday, August 18, 2006 at 01:19 PM