Deutsche Bank Fire Ground Zero Claims Robert Beddia | Joseph Graffagnino

I returned to Manhattan from Carversville Sunday night, one day after two more New York City firefighters lost their lives at Ground Zero. I so regret writing about firefighters today, just two weeks after paying tribute to them in True Grit.

In a pensive mood then, I wondered if I would stand the test of entering a blazing building, especially here at Ground Zero, where so many true heroes died.

The same question waited for me in the mirror today.

Add Two More Names to the Roster

We are in lockdown near the Deutsch Bank building, experiencing another dose of Novocain on our wounded neighborhood. Sizing up the situation, I made one detour, created by the construction quagmire at the Ground Zero, only to discover that the roads are closed east of West Street.

Firefighters and on-call fire engines lined the side streets and open spots on West Street last night, ready for a secondary fire to erupt. They are gone this morning, replaced by police officers and investigation units. A few firetrucks are parked near the site of the tragedy.

The skies are appropriately grey today; they are sad, somber skies.

via Flickr. Click photo to pageUnderstanding the Heroic

A couple weeks ago, I received an email titled: “Keep a Child Alive Needs Your Help Again! Please remain a hero!” I wrote to Juliano Innocenti, Director of Donor Relations, praising the work of his organization and agreeing to review my budget, in hopes of adding still another child needing AIDs drugs to my monthly donation.

“Kindly do not refer to me as a hero. For one thing, I live at the World Trade Center site in Manhattan, the home of true heroes who died saving others. The globe is full of real heroes — British and American WWII soldiers, Mother Theresa, Nelson Mandela — people who experienced great risk, exhibited true courage and love of others, at expense to their own wellbeing.

That’s a hero to me, not someone who writes checks — although writing checks, for a worthy cause such as yours, is a good trait, and one I’m proud to have.”

To his credit, Mr. Innocenti responded personally, within minutes to my email. I, however, didn’t take the immediate action I promised. Increasing my support of Keep A Child Alive is an item on my To Do list, three weeks later.

Heroic Is Not a Blurry Word

I feel strongly that we’ve abused the word “hero” since Sept. 11. Both journalists and marketers now promote the idea that in doing small acts of charity, or even doing our everyday job well, we become somehow “heroic”.

The dictionary educates us on the real meaning of the word. Hero: a man or woman of distinguished courage or ability, admired for his or her brave deeds and noble qualities.

Real heroes face death in the face, without the luxury of To Do lists. Doing what is right does not make us heroic; it makes us good citizens.

NYFD Robert Beddia | Joseph Graffagnino

Heroes vs. Good Citizens

Driving into my lower Manhattan neighborhood, I often see an oversized banner mounted high on a building wall. The message honors union workers, calling them Everyday Heroes. I object to this watering down of the word “heroic”, especially so close to Ground Zero.

While I want to hug constantly every New York City firefighter, I do not feel the same way about every New York City union member.

We must earn the right to be called a hero, not have the title bestowed on us in a timely PR campaign. Caring for tired firefighters and rescue workers is not the same challenge, as running into those flaming buildings.

I resent lowering our national heroic bar in this way, finding it far worse than grade inflation. To me, that banner disrespects the nobility of the real heroes, who currently have no marketing message in the sky. Their voices are quiet.

Living in the Face of Death

The air did not smell anything like Sept. 11 last night. The towering, yellow cranes driving the swarming beehive of industrial activity at Ground Zero were silent as I drove by. Their long, strong, normally-noisy, skyward arms did not wake up this morning. All construction at the WTC site has stopped.

Rolling down the car window last night, requesting the street to be opened, allowing me to park my car, I could only say to the lineup of police and New York City firefighters, “I am so sorry.”  They nodded in acknowledgement, sharing a quiet moment of understanding between us.

I don’t know these men; my friends and family didn’t die on Sept. 11; and yet, I feel a strong connection to these people who care for me.

My tears serve no purpose today, unless they create rebirth. The tears of the firefighters are the ones that count, and they wore none. Instead, my real heroes wore the calm, sober face of duty and an obligation to die, if necessary, to save the rest of us.

They call it a job; I label it courage in today’s world, especially in Manhattan.

Real Heroes: Robert Beddia and Joseph Graffagnino

In honor of Robert Beddia, 53, of Staten Island, and Joseph Graffagnino, 33, of Brooklyn, I will take care of the Keep a Child Alive review on my To Do list, buying monthly AIDS drugs for two more African children, in their honor.

Firefighter Beddia’s sister said: “He was well loved and known as the one who probationary officers were sent to, to learn,” said his sister Barbara Crocco, 49. “He was also known as the one who would go where others wouldn’t on the job. Yet, he never considered himself special or a hero.”

In Their Honor

As is so often the case with real heroes, they dismiss the spotlight. They wear no banners on the sides of Manhattan skyscrapers. Nourishing life in their memory is the only way to make meaning of this kind of new sadness, hovering over the Washington Street firefighter’s memorial at Ground Zero.

Please join me in honoring firefighters Beddia and Graffagnino with your own gift of life somewhere on our challenging, maddening planet.

Love,
Anne