Words from Into the Fire by Bruce Springsteen.
Into the Fire
The sky was falling
And streaked with blood
I heard you calling me
Then you disappeared into the dust
Up the stairs, into the fire
Yeah, up the stairs, into the fire
I need your kiss
But love and duty called you some place higher
Somewhere up the stairs, into the fire
May your strength give us strength
May your faith give us faith
May your hope give us hope
May your love give us love…
(https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=OM6lw40VPLg)
By Dr. Andrew Roth, Booknotes #211:
What cannot be permitted to be lost is the heroism and sacrifice of those who ran not away but into danger that day to try to save others. Like Fr. Mychal Judge OFM, Franciscan friar, priest, and chaplain to the New York City Fire Department. Fr. Judge is an alumnus of St. Bonaventure University . . . Fr. Judge is the first official victim of 9/11 – Death Certificate No. 1. He ran into the burning buildings to give aid, comfort, and last rites to “his guys” the firefighters of FDNY. His daily prayer was “Lord, take me where you want me to go; let me meet who you want me to meet; tell me what you want me to say; and keep me out of your way.”
My wife Joan dined at the Windows of the World atop the World Trade Center on the evening of September 10th. The morning of September 11 she was participating in a NABE economic conference at the Marriott World Trade Center. She walked to the Hudson river, crossed to New Jersey by ferry, and joined four strangers renting a car to drive home to DC.
From a friend: Chip, thank you for this piece. I lived in NY for 25 years and was down at the Trade Center every week to meet with the specialists at the Customs House, Building 6. Each time, I got off the subway at Cortland St. and walked through the lobbies of Towers 1 and 2 to go up the escalator into the Customs House.
On September 11, I was in Scotland on vacation. U.S. airspace was closed and I could not get home. So I continued my trip from Edinburgh to Inverness. On the following Sunday, I attended service at the Ness Bank Church. At the end of a thoughtful, but deeply sad sermon, the minister asked the congregation to stand for the playing of the National Anthem of the United States of America.
I just started sobbing and several women came over and put their arms around me. The thought that a small Scottish church in the Highlands stood in solidarity with us at this horrible time has always remained with me.
Joan and I had previously signed up for a singing trip to Salzburg, Austria two weeks after 9/11. Most people cancelled, but we and 40 or so others continued.
We stayed on Mondsee, a small town outside Salzburg. The first morning there
I was walking before breakfast as the local garbage truck made its rounds picking up trash.
As I stepped back to let the truck pass, I noticed the driver had put two tiny American flags on the dashboard in the window of his truck.
The entire world had America’s back.