25th Anniversary of 9/11 and The Man With The Red Bandana

It's the 25th anniversary of the 9/11 attacks. 25 years!

For those of us who were there, it's hard to capture the thoughts and feelings that gather in mind, heart, and soul. 

After the first few years of those special ceremonies, some have passed perhaps not unnoticed, but, well, just passed with only bit of recollection and then it was on to the day's work.

But this one seems different. It must be the 25 years.

I wasn't in the towers. But my office was only a few blocks south, in a building next to the Staten Island Ferry, right on the water. I exited the subway and within seconds the second plain hit. That's how the work day began - what would, of course, not be a work day.

Something strange in that moment: I had just learned of the phenomena of "rogue thunder" - apparently something rare, a clap of thunder that can occur in an otherwise clear sky. And, oh, the sky was as clear and blue as it had ever been!

So the first second or two, the thought occurred: Rogue thunder?

Exiting the subway put my back to the tower that had been struck. So looking south towards my office building a block or so away, it was only the reaction of the people in front of me that triggered the thought and feeling that something was terribly wrong. Everyone was looking up at what was behind me, some screaming. One woman screamed "Jesus!" and some other words I couldn't make out. She was pleading with Jesus for help.

When I turned around, I saw, the fireball above me. You've seen the pictures of it. Imagine being a few blocks below it. 

The rest could take pages and pages. But instead of my experience, let's shift to the now famous man with the red bandana. He's being honored by our government with the Medal of Freedom this year. Stories appear in the media. His mother spoke at some public gathering with the President. She was interviewed by local media - a moving few moments.

I didn't know Wells Crowther. But I did know and work with his father. I learned from the interview that Jeff died a few years ago. God rest his soul.

We had a  mostly professional relationship. We weren't really friends. But we did have occasion to talk from time to time about matters unrelated to work. The subject that came up most of all was Wells. Jeff couldn't say enough about him.

While parents who speak of their children can sometimes be a bit overbearing, there was something about Jeff's comments that set them apart. Jeff loved and admired his son. His words, his facial expression, all were more than just "bragging" about a child who was - at least in their parent's mind - special. 

Wells was special - in a good way.

Jeff and I went our separate ways, both leaving our mutual employer. I saw him once on the streets of Manhattan some time before 9/11. We exchanged pleasantries. That was that.

But following 9/11, the story of this man with the red bandana emerged. And with it the name of Wells Crowther.

I instantly believed that everything being said about Wells was true. His father's stories had laid the backdrop for that belief. They were consistent with Jeff's stories years before.

I hope that Jeff is now reunited with his beloved son Wells - in a better place. We call it Heaven. 

Having lost a son myself now almost 8 years ago, I know what a father goes through, something what Jeff must have gone through. And I look forward to being reunited with my own son some day.

So prayers for the souls of Wells, Jeff, and, of course, my own son. 

May they rest in peace.

May the souls of all those who died that day rest in peace. 

In the spirit of the day, this supremely moving "Lacrimosa" from Mozart's Requiem.