Sunday, September 11, 2011

Remembrance

I was in Michigan.  It was my first year of grad school -- and I had only been home from my mission for about 3 weeks at that point.  I walked to school and went into the museum to chat.  I asked, "So how are you guys?"  My deskmate replied, "Not so good.  A plane just hit the World Trade Center."

It was early enough that the towers had not yet fallen, and I found myself sitting in Ashley's (the closest TV around) with 2 other new students trying to make sense of what we were seeing on the screens.  We didn't know each other well.  But two of us were from the New York area; I remember holding my breath while my friend frantically dialed her boyfriend and other close friends who lived in the city.  

I thought of home.

I had no close friends who lived in the city at the time, but I knew immediately that my hometown would be affected.  My next-door neighbors commuted into the city -- as did probably half the people in the neighborhood.  I knew that there were people I knew who would never come home, and, in fact, there would be empty place settings in the neighborhood in the coming weeks.  My next-door neighbors were lucky.  One of my high school classmates was not.  

Dave wasn't a close friend -- we both hung out on the fringes of each others' groups (in the way that only happens in high school), but we had been in classes together since...well...kindergarten, I think.  When I heard that he had been lost on 9/11, my sadness was real and immediate.  I remember him every year at this time.  

I looked him up in our senior yearbook this evening (since my yearbook was one of the things laying around in the house post-Irene).  His senior quote made me smile:

"Forever trust in who you are
'Cause nothing else matters."
-- Metallica

Words to live by, Dave.  I'll remember.

1 comment:

  1. So there is a bit more to this story.

    David was also a wrestler from South and we dedicated our season to him. It was one of our best seasons ever. At the night of our dinner we were told a true story.

    On one of the days following the attacks David's father was walking around lower Manhattan and among the debris he picked up a loan piece of paper from the ground. It turned out to be David's bank statement.

    There is also the David Suarez Scholarship that provides for many wrestlers from South. So he is always remembered.

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