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In Honor of a Hero

Originally posted at Something… and Half of Something on September 11, 2006.

As part of the 2996 Project - today we remember, and honor the victims of the September 11 attacks.

John Chipura

never enough of it
time marches on
trickles away
each day
dies
and
each day
a new dawn
time marches on
never enough of it

John Chipura knew how precious life was. He learned that lesson at age 21, on October 23, 1983 as a Marine in Beirut.

John Chipura

John was a 21 year old radio operator on his second tour as a member of the 1st Battalion, 8th Marine Regiment 24th Marine Amphibious Unit. He was stationed in Beirut when terrorists with a truck bomb took out the battalion headquarters barracks and killed 241 of his fellow leathernecks and service men.

John dodged death and came home from that tragedy. He didn’t speak much about it, he didn’t dwell on the fact that he survived because he was leaving the barracks early to assume his post as a radio operator when the bomb exploded. He didn’t dwell on the fact that the man walking just behind him was killed.

John’s brother, Gerard Chipura, a fireman with Ladder Company 148, said his brother never forgot his experiences as a Marine. “We didn’t know it, but John kept in touch with all the families from the bombing,” his brother Gerard said, “I don’t think John ever thought he would live to see anything worse than what he saw that day in Beirut.”

He was marked by the experience. “When he came back, he was more of a hugging person. He knew how precious life was because it cold all be over in a second.” - Nancy Chipura, John’s sister

His brother Gerard said John was missing for three whole days in Beirut before he was able to get through to the family and let them know he was fine. He said the 9/11 deja-vu experience was painfully “surreal.” “My sister said, ‘I’m going to give him three days.’ But he hasn’t shown up yet. Not this time,” said his brother.

John lived his life to the end as a hero.

Gerard and his family find solace in the words that John wrote in November 2000, on the occasion of the Corps 225 birthday: “We Marines are truly blessed. We get to enjoy the sweet taste of this Freedom because we know its price.”

“He was a true Marine” . - FDNY Lt. John Atwell

After his honorable discharge from the Marines in 1987, John desired to continue serving the community and joined the city Police Department in 1987. He was assigned to the 72nd Precinct in his old neighborhood, Sunset Park, for seven years. John devoted three years service in Brooklyn South Narcotics and then returned to the 72nd Precinct as a detective.

“As a police officer he was always looking to clean up the neighborhood and help other families. He was very caring, and nothing got in his way or bothered him.” - Gina DeFalco, John’s Fiancee.

After 12 years of service to the NYPD, John yearned for the camaraderie of the firehouse; his brother, Gerard, was a fireman, as their father, Anthony, had been. In August, 1998, John achieved his dream.

John Chipura

Following the footsteps of his father, Anthony Chipura, John joined the city Fire Department. “He knew you work as a team, as a unit in the Fire Department — he liked that,’ said his brother. “He always thought people call the Police Department when there’s a problem, to get somebody bad, but you call the Fire Department when people needed help.”

Graduating from firefighter training in 1998, John Chipura was assigned to Engine Co. 219, Brooklyn, for one year. He then rotated through Ladder Co. 81, South Beach, and Engine Co. 80 in Manhattan. John had recently returned to Engine Co. 219 to once again serve Downtown Brooklyn.

On Sept. 11, he arrived at Engine 219 to work the day tour and was detailed to Ladder Co. 105, which is housed in the same location. After reports of the first attack, he called his sister, Nancy Chipura, who worked on the 69th Floor of Tower 1. He was unable to make contact. Just before responding to the World Trade Center, John called his fiancee, Gina DeFalco, who also worked Downtown, for more information about Nancy. He received no word about his sister when he arrived at the scene at 8:45 a.m. with Ladder 105. “There wasn’t any news,” said Ms. DeFalco, “but later, when I heard that Nancy was safe, I called John to tell him. But his ladder company had already left.” John and the five other firefighters in the truck have not been heard from since.

Witnesses told the family he was last seen assisting in the evacuation of many people from Tower 2. “He was inside when it collapsed,” said his brother. “I know he was looking for my sister.”

Mr. Chipura and Ms. DeFalco, who met through a friend in the Fire Department, had planned to marry just six weeks after Sept. 11. “Getting married was the sole focus of his being for the last few months,” said his brother. “He was 39-years-old and finally found the right girl. He held her so close to his heart.”

Gerard Chipura said his brother was always trying to help people and make them “feel good.” “He wanted to make everybody happy. He didn’t want anybody to be upset,” said his brother. “When John was not serving the community, he was serving his family and friends. He was a great conversationalist, problem solver, hard worker and friend,” said his brother. “John embraced hobbies such as country dancing and motorcycling because he liked the sense of community he found.”

John Chipura was a mentor for many at Boy Scout Troop 21. He was a member of the troop since 1974 and went on to serve as assist scout master until he was lost in the attack. He was a member of the Veterans of Foreign Wars, the American Legion, the Iwo Jima Association and the Beirut Veterans Memorial Association. John was also a member of St. Joseph and St. Thomas Parish, Pleasant Plains.

His mother, Jane Chipura, died in 1994 and his father, Anthony, died in 1996. In addition to his brother, Gerard, and his sister, Nancy Chipura, surviving are his twin sister, Susan Cohen; another sister, Eileen Cella; and several nieces and nephews. John also left behind the love of his life, Gina DeFalco.

John Chirpura

Dear John,

In the blink of an eye
Our lives went awry
Not a day has gone by
That we all do not cry

For what we had
For what was planned
For what took place
For what was yet to be

For births, promotions, holidays, birthdays,
graduations, bar mitzvahs
Celebrated without you, but always thinking of you
Another blink of an eye

And a year has gone by
How can it be?
It went so fast and yet so much has passed
So many tears, can it only be a year?

Lives went on, go on, different, not the same
We try, we share, we wonder why
We try to make sense of that blink of an eye
We try to make each blink count

We try to do what you would want us to
We try to make that blink of an eye
Mean something.

Help us, show us, tell us
Be there as you always were
In our hearts, in our thoughts
In every blink of our eyes.

With all our love always,

Your family, friends, fiancé and Mom-to-be

Except for the short poem at the beginning of this post, none of these words are mine. They are culled from various articles on the internet. I have never met John Chipura, but I wish I had the opportunity to do so. In life, John touched so many lives, not only his family and friends, but also, every person he came into contact with. Serving as a Marine, John protected our freedom, and as police officer and a fireman, John helped make so many people safe.

I feel a special kind of love for John Chipura, and I thank G-d for men like him.

His resting place shall be in the Garden of Eden.
Therefore, the Master of mercy will care for him
under the protection of His wings for all time
And bind his soul in the bond of everlasting life.
God is his inheritance and he will rest in peace
and let us say Amen.

2996 Tribute: A. Todd Ranke

[Originally posted at Merri Musings, September 11th, 2006]

I Honor
A. Todd Rancke
World Trade Center

I’m certain his day probably started out like every other work day. September 11, 2001. The sky was clear, and the sun’s reflection likely shimmered all over the windows of his building, World Trade Center South, on the 104th floor, in the office of Sandler O’Neill & Partners. Do I know Todd Rancke? I never met him, which is certainly my loss. I feel as though I’ve learned a lot about this man because of the tragic event that drew Americans together that day. I hope I can do some justice in sharing what I know about Todd through the posts and memorials I read about him. On the highest level, Todd was a husband, a father, a brother, a friend. It’s evident he touched many lives well before his tragic passing on 9/11. He is survived by his wife, Deborah; his daughters, Christina and Brittany; his son, Todd; two sisters, Pamela Rancke Schroeder and Cynthia Rancke Biennmann and many other family and friends.

When family and friends heard of the attacks, and knew that Todd would be in the building, they called him to see if he was okay and to also encourage him to evacuate to safety.

When we heard of the attacks and knew his office was located in one of the Towers-we immediately called him and heard a busy signal or got connected into his voicemail. We left several messages asking him to call us back-hoping he was running behind schedule — late for work that day.

Todd was on the phone with his wife, Debbie, when the first plane hit One World Trade Center, the other tower. He had called, as he did daily, at about 8:45 a.m. to wish her and their three children a good day, and he told her about the plane crash.

I called Todd shortly before 9:00 a.m. to check on him. He described a “smoky ticker-tape parade” outside of his window. He had just finished speaking with his wife, Debbie, on the phone and was obviously aware of the plane crash in the North Tower. Todd said that he was alright and that the public address system in the building had advised that they were safe. He had decided to stay in the building. I told him to keep his head down and stay out of trouble, and with that he spoke to me for the very last time and said “thanks for thinking of me buddy.”

Deborah’s statement to those watching an episode of “60 Minutes” soon after 9/11, as she continued the search for her husband: “please find him — he’s my whole life.”

Todd had a strong impact on many during his life.

Todd was always an awesome guy, popular with everyone. I knew Todd as a Christian young man, and I know in later years he grew to become an influential part of the church we spent all those youthful years in. I remember church youth group, watching Todd play sports in school, and school student coucil. He was always involved!

I spent that summer babysitting for Todd’s two beautiful little girls, Christina and Brittany…At the time Mrs. Rancke was pregnant with little Todd. I remember the girls would be so excited at the end of the day when their dad would arrive home from work. They would always ask me if it was “the weekend yet” because that was when they had dad for a full two days…I also remember how very happy he was the day his son was born. I remember he gave his wife flowers that day and the card read “thank you for our beautiful son”…that always stuck with me. He was such a nice man and a great father.

I know he’s looking down at us and is frustrated at not being able to take our sadness away-he was such a cheerful soul. I think he would like us to remember him with a smile, and as a loving husband and father more than for his working role (although he was very good at what he did). Again, I am convinced he has not entirely left us and am comforted by it.

Todd had a teasing sense of humor that played on people’s flaws but did not generate any ill will, said his sister, Cindy Bienemann. “He could crack on you in a way without making you feel bad,” she said.

Todd was a Duke graduate, earning his degree in ‘81. Todd’s sister Pamela, also a Duke graduate, shared these thoughts about Todd - thoughts that really helped me better understand how great a loss it is that he is gone:

Duke was so special to Todd. He was married in the Duke Chapel. Our family was there for that, and to have had a wedding down there was special. His in-laws live outside of Durham, about a half an hour out, so he was able to come back to Duke quite often, and go to Chapel.

Duke was a special place. He had a lot of great memories. He did meet Debbie there; she did not go to Duke, she went to another school in Carolina. Then they met seven years later on a business trip; they were both up in Canada and saw each other again. The wedding was beautiful.

It was always a special place, to have a wedding there, and to go back and go to Easter Sundays there, and I think Todd was lucky that his in-laws lived there, he could just go back and walk around and share with his kids and go to Chapel and go to baseball games. For his children to run on the quad with their cousin–it’s just such a special place.

Debbie just told me that somebody is getting her tickets to a Duke basketball game (in New York) with the children. The kids were all telling me that they’re going to a Duke basketball game. He used to take them to that game. He was a big fan.

His sister also reflects on life without Todd in their lives.

Still, when I see things on TV, I still will sit there and the tears just come. It’s going to take us a very long time to realize that they’re truly gone. They’re young, and he was just so full of life, and with his children–it just breaks your heart to see those children. It’s just sad how their lives have changed so quickly. They’ll be okay; hopefully they’ll be okay. They would ride bikes with him, he could take them everywhere, he’d bring them to the football games, he’d bring them anywhere with them on his back, he coached the basketball, he coached the soccer; he was really a hands-on father.

Little Todd, when something comes up, I can see him wipe at his eye, and I think he’s afraid a tear might come and he can’t go there. We’re surrounding them. Debbie, she doesn’t think she can do it but I’ve told her, you can do this.

Todd was full of life. And he danced. We teased him about that, because our husbands can’t dance. His sisters loved to dance with him.

A former classmate and roommate at Duke hadn’t been in touch with Todd for awhile, but Todd’s passing left a lasting impression on him.

I somehow feel his death places a greater responsibility on me to live my life, and maybe on you, too. I now understand–really understand–that tomorrow may not come, and that what I do today needs to be done so that I have no regrets if there is no next day.

How? First, I must pursue the career, the activities, and the people that evoke passion in me. It is so easy to fall into a career, for example, that is comfortable, or begets comforts, yet is uninspiring. I was trained to achieve, to succeed, and the process of getting there was of secondary importance. September 11 and Todd’s death make that not good enough any more.

Second, I need to do more to nurture my relationships, because I know more than ever that it’s the people in my life that make it special. Todd was one of those people, but we both let things fade as we pursued career and family on opposite sides of the country. I wish I’d called.

The final realization I have is the need to make sure I’m giving something back to others. Todd gave me a lot; he was upbeat, enthusiastic, and nonjudgmental. That he should be taken away, that someone so positive should disappear for no good reason, leaves me grasping for a way to fill the void. As I look now at my two-year-old son, so excited by each day, so constantly curious, I’m reminded to do more for those around me. I have no illusions about changing the world, but rather the need to make sure I’m doing my part to make it better.

I think his thoughts hit home with me and why I feel loss for a victim of this attack that I’ve never even met.

Why did Todd not survive that day? The family and others who knew him believe that, despite being urged by his wife to escape, it’s likely the Eagle Scout chose to help others get out of the doomed skyscraper. It sure seems that how he lived likely influenced him to help others live that day. Todd was a hero, but likely never thought twice about getting others to safety.

Being so far away from the tragedy here in the Midwest, emotions were raw and people were deeply affected.

The Rancke’s pastor, Richard Kannwischer, summed up the confusion, the sadness, the grief and, yet, the hope we all had that day…

The last house I went to was of a good friend and elder, Todd Rancke. The door to the house was open and I walked into the entryway. Because I am about the same height as Todd, his wife, Debbie, mistook me for her husband. With relief she sprang up to hug me, but reality slowly crept in. She collapsed in my arms, saying, “Oh, my God! I thought you were Todd. I thought he came home! Where’s Todd? You’ve got to find him.” I have never felt more helpless as a pastor.

Todd, the husband, the father, the brother, the uncle, the Eagle Scout, the church elder, the hero…Heaven became an even better place the day Todd arrived. I can only hope and pray that God has laid His healing hands upon Todd’s family and friends so they can have some peace in their hearts. I know I cannot begin to understand their loss, but in writing this tribute to him, I have done a bit of grieving on my own…me, a perfect stranger.

I knew no one who died on that day, but it has profoundly affected who I am. I think many of us changed that day.

Read the rest of this entry »

In Memory of Antoinette Duger

Tags: 2996, 911

[Note: The following was written by my friend Chris Bowes, and is a re-post from last year. You can find the names of all 9/11 victims and the blogs where tributes were done last year, on this page.]

I Remember
Antoinette Duger
WTC

“It only takes a spark, to get a fire going, and soon all those around can warm up in its glowing.
That’s how it is with God’s love, once you experience it, you take His love, to everyone, you want to pass it on.”

Antoinette Duger That song is an old campfire song. It tells of how a small spark can start a life changing fire. How small seeds of goodness planted in people’s hearts can make differences. How one person, changing their world, can help to change
and improve other people’s lives.

Antoinette Duger was that spark. She was that seed. Antoinette Duger was a daughter, a sister, a wife, a mother, an aunt and so much more. To those who knew her, she was a good friend. She was respected and loved.

Antoinette did the right things because they were right. She was a strong, loving person and she leaves a legacy of love and caring that will live on in those whose lives she touched. She put the lives of her family before all else and the benefit of others before herself. If someone needed something, Antoinette saw that need met.

Antoinette left behind a husband, Ray, and a daughter, Megan. On one of the memorial sites Ray’s sister said that Antoinette turned Ray around. That she was the best thing that happened to him. Antoinette, Ray carries your love and strength within him. It helps him guide Megan and protect her as she grows up. It will help carry him in times of despair and make him smile when he remembers times you had together. The love you gave him will fuel him as he moves forward.

Antoinette, Megan misses you. She does and will think of you often. She will think of you when she gets her license. When she goes on her prom. When she graduates. On her wedding day. She will tear up when she holds her child, knowing that although you can see her, she can’t see you. But Antoinette, because you were strong, Megan will face her darkest hours knowing you are with her, and she will make you proud. She will stand up to the temptations in life and face them down. She will be loving and strong, because you were. She will do the right things, because you did. She will be guided through life by Ray, who carries your memory and virtue in his heart. Your legacy of love and caring and goodness will live on through them.

It will also live on in those who knew you outside your family. Antoinette, because of you, friends, remembering what you were like, will do for others as you did for them. Antoinette, someone you never met, will do the right thing, or help a person in need, because they were influenced by someone else whose life you touched.

The goodness and love you personified and gave so willingly, the seeds you sowed, the positive influence you spread around will go on. Your impact on the world will last longer than the 44 years you were here.

We celebrate you, and the world is significantly better for having you in it.

Wife, mother, sister, daughter, aunt, friend, hero. Antoinette, you will be remembered.

God speed sweet angel.

Antoinette Duger, taken way too early, September 11, 2001.

Michelle Titolo

[Originally posted September 11, 2006, at Vince aut Morire as part of the 2996 Project.]

Maybe in another life
I could find you there
Pulled away before your time
I can’t deal it’s so unfair

Michelle Titolo, the attractive face you see in this photo, was an equity controller for Cantor Fitzgerald. She lived in Copiague, New York, and worked on the 101st floor of Tower #1 of the World Trade Center.

From what I’ve been able to glean from searches, Michelle was born May 25th, 1967. Almost exactly one month before I was.

According to this, the last time anyone heard from Michelle was at 7:30 a.m. September 11th, 2001.

Since deciding to join the 2996 Project, and getting assigned to honor Michelle Titolo, I’ve thought long and hard just how best to do that. I’ve spent I don’t know how much time just sitting here, staring at that picture, waiting for answers to questions that I knew would never come. Well, one answer always came. Michelle was an equity controller for Cantor Fitzgerald and she worked, and was murdered, at the WTC on 9/11.

Not much of a tribute to write. So I decided to leave it up to the experts, as it were. The best way for me to pay tribute to Michelle Titolo is to reprint some of the words left by her family and friends. So now I’ll just step out of the way and let them speak.

August 1, 2002

My dearest sister,

We miss you, mom, Tara, Alan… all of us. We’d just really gotten close in the times recent before you death and as I sat in school watching the building burn in the middle of second hour… There was a dread that gripped my heart, hope took over, and grief sank back into second possition. Even for days after… There was that hope… That single prayer… Even as I suffered from a fractured hand after punching a wall in anger… But no. We shouldn’t mourn your death in anger. In a sense we should smile and pray for you, for we know you’re now one of Heaven’s greatest angels. The fountain is beautiful like Anne said. It’s waters gleam so beautifully… Some have said it’s like angel’s tears. I’ve calmly replied “no, why should they weep? They should rejoice for she’s amongst them now.” and they agree. I made it worlds with Dreamer & she’s expecting a foal for may of 2004, your name is going to be issued in that legacy… Michelle’s Dreaming Threnody, the next Top Line Performance Stables champion. Since you’ve died I’ve been writing a lot more, my poetry has been published and mom never ceases to smile at the words I scrawl across the paper. It’s a sad smile though. She misses you so much. We all do. I’ve taken up the pen name “The Mockingbird” since after staying out for a dusk trail ride & listening to it’s sad song, it reminded me of how I felt & when I asked “what kind of bird is that?” & getting the response… I knew it was only right. Farewell Michelle.

September 12, 2005

I love and miss you so much Michelle. It has been four years since you were ripped away from us…it may as well be only 4 minutes. I read your name with the siblings yesterday and promise you that I will keep your memory alive as long as I live. You will NEVER be forgotten. Love always, your sister

September 12, 2003

What more can I say than has already been said about you Michelle. One thing I can say is that I am a richer person for having had known you and for being one of the truly lucky ones in this world that has been able to call you my friend. You were a rare angel put on this earth that had such an amazing ability to share and spread your joy and zest for life to any and all that were around you.

I can’t even begin to say how unbelievably lucky I feel to have found you and our friendship again. Our mini “Finley Freaks” reunion in the summer of 2001 was nothing short of amazing and I can’t remember laughing as hard as we did after reviewing some of the pictures over at Lori’s house. I can’t help but mourn the loss of your physical presence on this earth, but I am comforted by the fact that I know you’re still around, watching over us all with that most amazing smile of yours.

Within our hearts and memories you will always live.

September 11, 2002

I worked with Michelle at Sakura Global Capital. We quickly became dear friends and I miss her everyday. She had an incredible ability to make people feel better than they were. She saw the good in everything and never stopped smiling. She had the greatest laugh. I miss hearing her giggle. I can still hear her voice coming across my answering machine telling me she purchased a home and had finally got her dream job. I know how happy she was. I’m glad she had an oppertunity to make her dreams come true. She inspired others to do the same, it gave her great pleasure. I am blessed to have had such an incredible friend in my life. Today I can’t stop thinking of her. I know Michelles sister Kim and her family love her more than anyone can know. My thoughts are with Kim and the rest of the family today. God bless you all, hold tightly to each other today and always.

May 23, 2002

For all the years I have known Michelle, even through the lost ones,she remains the one person who kept a smile as big as the tower she worked in. When our paths finally came full circle it was as if we never parted. She will always remain an amazing young woman to me. Her ability to make people comfortable around each other, even when they didn’t want to be around one another, was a gift.A gift that I feel was sent from heaven.God chooses the special ones and he was on the money with Michelle! All her ups and downs made her stronger and love life more. I am a better person for having known her. I truly miss her! She will forever be in my heart as the hearts of the lucky people who knew her. God bless her and her family.

Michelle, I never knew you, although I think we would’ve gotten along pretty well. May your family take some comfort from knowing that there are many people like me, who they have never, and probably will never, meet, who think about you every day, and keep your memory in our hearts.

I’ll say a special prayer for the health and prosperity of the family that loved you so much, and no doubt still misses you horribly even after 5 years. Watch over them and keep them safe.

In Memory of Frank Muñoz

Tags: 2996, 9/11

[Note: This is a re-post from last year's 2996 project. For the full list of 9/11 victims and the blogs where they are memorialized, see this page.]

I Remember
Francisco Muñoz
WTC

Francisco Munoz, 29, New York, NY
computer consultant, Directfit
Reported missing *

Little more has been written in the newspapers about Francisco (Frank) Muñoz; Frank was a young man, a family man, only 29 years old the last time he was seen. Yet thanks to his beloved family, I do know something about this man who was loved by so many.

Francisco "Frank" Munoz

Frank’s wife, Cathy, wrote in thanks to well-wishers in a message online:

I can not speak of Frank in the past because to me he still lives if only in my heart. Meeting Frank was the best thing that ever happened to me because he brought happiness into everyones lives. (Even though he was bad about separating the laundry. Ha!Ha!) Two years and one month has passed,things aren’t easier; I just learned how to hide the pain.

It’s been three years since she left that message, and I’m guessing the mask, the “hiding,” has become a habit, but the hole in her heart hasn’t healed.

Nor has it healed for Roberto Alberti, Frank’s cousin. He writes,

I want Frank to know that I will try my best to make sure that his mom is ok.

I feel that Frank gave me a gift before September 11th that I will carry on to my daughter. The Christmas season prior to 9/11 he and his wife invited me to his apartment for a Christmas party he was having with his closest friends. As a present he gave me two candles that he made that resembled a champagne glass. I keep one of the candles in my office next to a picture of the World Trade Center. I will light that candle every September 11th.

The best thing that I remember about Frank was that even as a child he was like my window to my large family that is scatter from Los Angeles to New York and the Dominican Republic. He liked to call me and give me the latest updates of how everyone was doing. That is who Frank was. He was into his mom, extended family, career, wife and best of all he was a compassionate person that was driven to succeed.

And in a letter Roberto wrote to Frank after that day:

Our young ages make us feel like there is no tomorrow.
If I knew then what I know now… I would of told you so much more in that last phone call.

Although it has been three months since I last spoke to you,
I can vividly remember the things we spoke about.
You told me how much you loved your new job and career.
I can tell by the tone of your voice you were enjoying life.
It was obvious your love for your wife was strong, I never heard you sound happier.

You then made small talk with Maria and then we confirmed that we would get together soon with all of your friends. That was 10:00PM September 10th.

Frank was just twenty-nine years old, but what a wonderful life he had! A beautiful wife who loved him so, and whom he loved passionately. He was probably thinking about expanding that extended family a bit too, now that he had that college degree and technical certifications and a great new job with its limitless potential. He has family everywhere that looked at Frank with pride, as any family would.

Another of Frank’s cousins, Ed T. in California, wrote this about Frank:

Simply put, Frank was “the baby” of a whole generation of first cousins. We range in age from 50 to 20 and we were a fairly tight Dominican-American-Puerto Rican family. Frank, in a lot of ways, was the glue. Unlike many of us who moved far away from the neighborhood in Queens where we grew up, Frank moved a few miles up the road, into the heart of downtown Flushing, keeping close to his roots and his family.

He busted his ass to graduate from University, found a good woman, got married and started working to build a better life for himself and his wife. He worked and continued his education at night. Shortly before Sept. 11th, he had completed his certification on Cisco and Microsoft networks and was looking for the great new jobs that would soon be available to him.

His job at the WTC was one of those great new jobs.

Through it all, he worked at keeping up with everyone. He’s the one who called, prodded, cajoled people into keeping in touch. If he was needed, he was there in a heartbeat - even to me, who lived 3000 miles away. I knew that if I needed Frank, he would jump on a plane in a second to come help me out. He did our cousin’s taxes. Oh, did I mention he was a Certified Accountant? He loved people and life, but, mostly, he loved his family. All of us.

Frank grew up in Queens, and now there is a street in Queens that bears his name today–Francisco Munoz Way. I believe that had there been no 9/11 attacks, a street may well have borne his name some day anyway. Frank had that many people who loved him that much, and had that bright of a future.

Cathy, Roberto, Ed, mother Altagracia, godfather Luis, and all of Frank’s beloved family, you are so blessed to have had Frank in your lives. I only know of him what I’ve read from you, and your words have ensured I will never forget him either. It is an honor for me to know him even in this small way. May you find peace knowing that others will know of the love that you shared and the way he changed your lives for the better. Que Dios lo bendiga, y que en paz descanse.

Frank Muñoz
August 20, 1972 - September 11, 2001
(reported missing)

September 11, 2001 - September 11, 2007: 9/11+6

Alzaré mis ojos a los montes;
¿Dedónde vendrá mi socorro?
Mi socorroviene de Jehová,
que hizo los cielos y la tierra.
No dará tu pie al resbaladero,
ni se dormirá el que te guarda.
He aqui, no se adormecerá ni dormirá.
El que guarda a Israel.
Jehová es tu guardador;
Jehová es tu sombra a tu mano derecha.
El sol no te fatigará de día,
ni la luna de noche.
Jehová te guardará de todo mal;
el guardará tu alma.
Jehová guardará tu salida
y tu entrada desde ahora y para siempre. *

2996: Shock and Awe

Shock and Awe. That’s a pretty good summary of my feelings about 2,996.

Check out what happened with D. Challanger Roe with Project 2,996:

1. My webhosting account was “temprarly suspended” (sic) at about 10:45 AM EDT on 9/11 for excessive MYSQL queries—not bandwidth. Repeated online chats with my host’s technical disservice, resulted in the following chain of events in a repeating pattern: unsuspend the account, demand I stop putting a load on their servers, ignore my requests to make the changes from their end, resuspend the account. I was finally able to convince them to change a directory name directly at the server and then unsuspend the account. This resulted is an almost exact replay of the above events, with the new problem being http access requests. At about noon on 9/11 the 2,996 blog was getting an average of 200 requests every minute.
2. For a while I tried to keep up with all of the 2,996ers who jumped right in and posted mirror lists from Google’s cache, but with trying to get the site back up I lost track.
3. On 9/11, the 2,996 site was active between 12:00 AM EDT and about 10:45 AM EDT (and maybe another hour total throughout the day). During this period I burned through 14.5 GB of bandwidth and received more than 400,000 hits.
4. Some helpful emailers clued me into some mentions of 2,996 from Media sources. An article from Wired Online included a link to 2,996, and a short while I was named and quoted in an AFP article on Yahoo News (quite a little thrill, let me tell you).
5. An online tech article (which I did not see, so this is heresay) mentioned 2,996 as a possible cause of extreme lag on blogger, myspace, and aol journals.

Change your links and whatnot to Project 2,996, and don’t forget about the tributes, just because it’s 9/12 or later. Never forget.

Tags: 911, 9-11, september 11th, 2001, 2996

One Last Tribute For The Day

Tired, I am.

From the internet, to the t.v., to the radio, I’ve ridden the 9/11 emotional rollercoaster for days now.

This video goes out to the family of Michelle Titolo, the other 2995 victims and their families, and to our fallen military and their families.

May God bless them all.

Lyrics under the fold for the auditorally challenged

Looking for 2996?

Tags: 2996, 9/11

Update on the 2996 Tributes: The hosting service for DC Roe’s 2996 site has shut them down due to high traffic. That would be ehostpros, for those who are interested. And yes, you heard right: they have shut down 2996.

For now, the 2996 Tribute list is being mirrored at Mad Momma Jen.

I’ve also got the list of blog tribute links as reported to 2996 posted HERE.

(I’ll update it if the list is updated and sent to the 2996 Yahoo Group.)

Update: See Caltechgirl for more important information about this!

Frank Muñoz: “He brought happiness into everyone’s lives”

Tags: 2996, 9/11

I Remember
Francisco Muñoz
WTC

Francisco Munoz, 29, New York, NY
computer consultant, Directfit
Reported missing *

Francisco "Frank" Munoz

Frank’s wife, Cathy, wrote in thanks to well-wishers in a message online:

I can not speak of Frank in the past because to me he still lives if only in my heart. Meeting Frank was the best thing that ever happened to me because he brought happiness into everyones lives. (Even though he was bad about separating the laundry. Ha!Ha!) Two years and one month has passed,things aren’t easier; I just learned how to hide the pain.

It’s been three years since she left that message, and I’m guessing the mask, the “hiding,” has become a habit, but the hole in her heart hasn’t healed.

Nor has it healed for Roberto Alberti, Frank’s cousin. He writes,

I want Frank to know that I will try my best to make sure that his mom is ok.

I feel that Frank gave me a gift before September 11th that I will carry on to my daughter. The Christmas season prior to 9/11 he and his wife invited me to his apartment for a Christmas party he was having with his closest friends. As a present he gave me two candles that he made that resembled a champagne glass. I keep one of the candles in my office next to a picture of the World Trade Center. I will light that candle every September 11th.

The best thing that I remember about Frank was that even as a child he was like my window to my large family that is scatter from Los Angeles to New York and the Dominican Republic. He liked to call me and give me the latest updates of how everyone was doing. That is who Frank was. He was into his mom, extended family, career, wife and best of all he was a compassionate person that was driven to succeed.

And in a letter Roberto wrote to Frank after that day:

Our young ages make us feel like there is no tomorrow.
If I knew then what I know now… I would of told you so much more in that last phone call.

Although it has been three months since I last spoke to you,
I can vividly remember the things we spoke about.
You told me how much you loved your new job and career.
I can tell by the tone of your voice you were enjoying life.
It was obvious your love for your wife was strong, I never heard you sound happier.

You then made small talk with Maria and then we confirmed that we would get together soon with all of your friends. That was 10:00PM September 10th.

Another of Frank’s cousins, Ed T. in California, wrote this about Frank:

Simply put, Frank was “the baby” of a whole generation of first cousins. We range in age from 50 to 20 and we were a fairly tight Dominican-American-Puerto Rican family. Frank, in a lot of ways, was the glue. Unlike many of us who moved far away from the neighborhood in Queens where we grew up, Frank moved a few miles up the road, into the heart of downtown Flushing, keeping close to his roots and his family.

He busted his ass to graduate from University, found a good woman, got married and started working to build a better life for himself and his wife. He worked and continued his education at night. Shortly before Sept. 11th, he had completed his certification on Cisco and Microsoft networks and was looking for the great new jobs that would soon be available to him.

His job at the WTC was one of those great new jobs.

Through it all, he worked at keeping up with everyone. He’s the one who called, prodded, cajoled people into keeping in touch. If he was needed, he was there in a heartbeat - even to me, who lived 3000 miles away. I knew that if I needed Frank, he would jump on a plane in a second to come help me out. He did our cousin’s taxes. Oh, did I mention he was a Certified Accountant? He loved people and life, but, mostly, he loved his family. All of us.

Frank Muñoz
August 20, 1972 - September 11, 2001
(reported missing)

September 11, 2001 - September 11, 2006: 9/11+5