Frank, one of my best friends, worked for Canter, Fitzgerald and was lost in the World Trade Center Towers on 9/11. On this fifth anniversary of that dreadful day, I wonder where we are in our fight against terrorism and in our aspirations to be a better people. But most of all on this day, I keep wondering about him.
I met Frank during the first week of my freshman year at Skidmore College. We were eventual roommates, drinking buddies, tennis partners, and political opponents during heated arguments in Case Center over Leonard Silk’s columns in The New York Times business section. He introduced me to the music of the inimitable Billie Holiday and others, too.
Just under five years ago I was to speak at my 20th college reunion as my classmates and I were set to dedicate a room in Palamountain Hall to Frank. The day came and I just couldn’t bring myself to go. I stayed home.
Like all of us, I remember vividly where I was when I learned of 9/11. I was at home that day too, this time writing a chapter on “civic faith” for a new book. My own faith in our collective ability to respond to events like 9/11 has not waned, even though my amazement at our collective ability to deflect and defer and detach ourselves from real issues has also risen to new heights.
I eventually stopped work on that book so I could write Hope Unraveled, which has a chapter on Americans’ views on the nation’s response to 9/11. The chapter is entitled False Start – in some ways a sorrowful reflection of people’s belief that the nation did not live up to its claims and potential to come together to change public life and politics in the aftermath of 9/11.
But today my desire is not to write about the condition of public life and politics. Today, amid all the non-stop stories and speeches and spectacles about 9/11, I find myself alone in the feeling that I simply miss a friend.
I know it is trite to ask, “Did my good friend Frank die in vein?” Of course he died too soon, at too young an age, robbed of his time with his wife and kids. He was a bystander, caught one-hundred some-odd stories up in a New York City skyscraper, unable to get out, frantically calling loved ones on the phone, knowing that the end was closing in.
Just the other day my wife suggested that I call some college buddies to plan a weekend get-together. My mind immediately went to Frank. I sat there in silence for a time only to eventually shrug my shoulders and respond, “Yeah, maybe.”
But this much I do know. In May of next year will be my 25th college reunion. This time I will go. I will visit the room in Palamountain Hall named in Frank’s honor. And I will sit there alone and think about Frank. There won’t be any fanfare. But my heart will be filled with memories on that day, as it is today, and has been everyday since 9/11.
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Rich,
I am a student in Bethe's class and just recently introduced to your work through her at Walden. I feel a profound sadness today as I think of all we have lost. Please know that you are in my thoughts today...and thank you for the work that you do.
Wendy Putka
We all need to look at our Net Creativity; individually, locally, and as a species. Each of us is born with the right to try and live. Nature has the right to try and kill us. The time in between gives us a chance to contribute to the universe in some way that will hopefully be useful in the future to Life. Your friend may continue to contribute through your knowledge of him, in addition to his family. We have a responsibility to look at all aspects of 9/11 now, right down to whether large cities are a liability in the future or a benefit. The threats come not from their existence, but from their footprint. If the purpose of the city is to enrich those who build cities at the expense of our grandchildren's resources, then we need to rethink our population planning. The terrorist threat is just one more in many threats to concentrated resources and people, as is the competitive mindset which exploits the weak in favor of the strong.
Rich
Your deeply personal recollection of your friend touched me. Your work and service are grounded in caring and compassion for others. Compassion includes a compass and I pray that following it will help us all to weave hope and listen to your sage counsel. Peace be with you, your family, friends, neighbors and readers. Thank you.
Rich, your message made me cry.
I don't know if you listened to Ted Koppell on Discovery/NPR last night (9:30 - 11:00) on the live forum. It had some of the feeling of the meetings that you conducted for Hope Unraveled. I was very moved by it. There was, of course, some of the usual--but all in all, a remarkable discussion of the need for returning to central values that we share.
As you know, I am using your book in my Public Policy graduate course. We read it this week, and the students (to a one) really identified with the book. It seems to inspire people to take babysteps without feeling like an idiotic adult. If you know what I mean.
Take care, and I'm so sorry about your friend.
Bethe