It’s hard to fathom that it’s been 25 years since 9/11. I was reminded of this the other day when my son and I joined the Mohawk executive leadership team for the Tunnel to Towers Foundation’s 5K Run & Walk here in New York. For those of you who have been in a coma for the last two decades, the 5K honors FDNY firefighter Stephen Siller and those who lost their lives on Sept. 11, 2001.
The event is held each year on the last Sunday of September. What began with 1,500 people in 2002 is now considered by many to be one of the top 5K runs in America. This year, more than 40,000 people participated. Proceeds from the sold-out event support the foundation’s programs.
Mohawk and Carpet One have been involved since the onset of Tunnel to Towers. Mohawk supplies hard and soft flooring, and Carpet One members provide the installation for custom-designed smart homes built for catastrophically injured veterans and first responders as part of the Building for America’s Bravest program. Bill Gaddis and Theresa Fisher represent their respective companies on the board.
This was the second time I participated; the first for my son. It’s hard to imagine not coming back once you’ve experienced it. I will never find the words to describe the feeling when you come out of the tunnel, and the street is lined with police officers and firefighters holding banners of photos of their fallen brothers and sisters. We never forget.
On the subject of never forgetting, all of us New Yorkers have memories, stories about 9/11. We never forget where we were that fateful day. All of us either know someone who perished, or we know someone who knew someone. No six degrees of separation here. The day hits us all in different ways.
I was doing some reflecting as I was waiting for the run to start. It was a rainy, windy morning, so unlike that beautiful sunny morning that was Sept. 11, 2001. I was driving down to Lancaster, Pa., for a meeting with Frank Ready of Armstrong. I was with FCW at the time, and my boss, Sandy Montero, and I were making our first sales call for what would be the publication’s 50th anniversary issue the following year. As we got onto the Jersey Turnpike heading south at exit 14, the traffic heading in the opposite direction was at a standstill. I remember remarking, “Glad we’re not going north.”
About five minutes later, I turned on the radio to Howard Stern. He was talking about planes crashing into the Twin Towers. He repeatedly had to mention this was not a bit. Had I looked in my side-view mirror as I hit the turnpike, or merely looked backwards, I would have witnessed the burning buildings.
At the time I was close with Roger Marcus’ daughter Elissa. I remember speaking with her a few days after 9/11. She was shaken. Her best friend, Whitney Michaels (funny how you remember some names), worked for Cantor Fitzgerald on the 103rd floor of one of the towers. Obviously, no one from the company survived. Whitney got married on Sept. 8 and left for her honeymoon Sept. 10. It just wasn’t her time.
My ex-wife’s cousin also worked for Cantor Fitzgerald. Brooke Jackman wasn’t as fortunate as Whitney Michaels. She was 23. An avid reader, their family started a charity to carry on the legacy of Brooke by helping to enhance the literacy of disadvantaged children in and around the New York area. Visit brookejackmanfoundation.org to learn more.
As for me, seeing the towers no longer standing brought me back many years to when I was a little boy, maybe 5 years old. My grandparents moved to lower Manhattan from Queens and were among the first occupants of a new high-rise development across the street from the South Street Seaport. They used to take me to a restaurant on special occasions called Barclay Downtown, owned by their next-door neighbors. It was located on Vesey Street in an area called Radio Row. I don’t have many memories from those early days, but I remember enjoying the place for whatever reason. One day my grandparents told me we couldn’t go to that restaurant again because it was closing. They were demolishing all of Radio Row to make way for the construction or a pair of office buildings. I remember crying. Those buildings would soon be known as the World Trade Center towers. So, I cried about the towers going up, and I cried when those towers went down. Eerily, that 13-block area once again looked as it had in 1967, minus the rubble.
Every year, September 11 is difficult for so many. It’s painful to remember, but it would be a travesty to forget.
