TRIUMPH OVER TRAGEDY: A TESTAMENT TO THE HUMAN SPIRIT

I’ve written in previous posts about our need to prioritize, to focus on what is most meaningful in life and to make the best of what life deals us. Just recently I was indeed inspired by the courageous spirit of one of our fall visitors. I hope that I can convey at least a small portion of the outstanding spirit of this remarkable woman.

I was approached last week by one of our coach visitors. Her group had booked with a Vermont receptive with which Rock of Ages has done business for many years. A receptive company functions as a travel agent for the group market. Suppose that you are a retired bank employee living in the state of Washington. You coordinate travel plans for other bank retirees.  You decide that it would be great to visit Vermont in autumn, but you have never been to the East Coast, so you don’t know the first thing about where to go and what to see, where to stay or where to eat. So the helpful Vermont receptive company plans your Vermont vacation for your group. You and your colleagues board a plane and fly into Boston or Manchester, NH. Our receptive arranges for a motor coach company to pick your group up at the airport and to provide transportation and guides so you are certain to see and do the very best things while visiting the Green Mountain State.

The aforementioned coach arrived at our Visitors Center. Our friendly, informative guide stepped aboard, and they toured the quarry. Upon their return to the Visitors Center, I spotted the receptive escort whom I had not seen for a while. As I registered her coach, we chatted and caught up a bit. We were then joined by one of her coach passengers who asked me to identify a 911 Memorial pictured here at our Visitors Center. She asked me if the memorial was the Flight 93 memorial erected in Shanksville, PA. I explained that the memorial pictured was one of several Rock of Ages had been commissioned to create by various communities forever impacted by the tragedy of 911.  The particular memorial to which she pointed features an I-beam from the World Trade Tower wreckage and now stands in Newton, NJ.

She explained to me and to her escort why she had enquired: her husband had perished that tragic day. While on a business trip to New York, he was conducting business with one of the firms located at the World Trade Center. She explained that he had died when the first tower collapsed and that she had recently been to Shanksville and had viewed the memorial there.

Over the next several moments her incredible story unfolded. She had never spoken to her husband after the first plane attack. His body had never been recovered. But she had pieced together his heroic story and took solace in his last meaningful hours spent on this earth.

In the days and weeks after the attack, she searched for any bit of news in hopes that he might be found alive in some hospital or that his body might be recovered. But her grief and anxiety were met only by numbing silence. She read voraciously every published account of the attack that she could find. A reporter’s interview of one of the first responders caught her attention.  He described helping an injured man to safety, a man who fit the basic description of her beloved husband. She contacted the man interviewed and asked for more details. She followed up by sending him a photo, which he positively identified as her husband, the heroic civilian described in the interview.

Many of the employees of the firm her husband was visiting were killed or injured when the first plane attacked.  Her husband suffered a severely injured leg, but he assisted others injured more severely than himself down the darkened, smoke engulfed stairway until they reached an impasse of destruction.  There they were eventually met by this first responder and other brave firefighters who helped to clear the wreckage and opened a narrow passage to freedom. Her husband helped others through and finally got through himself. When he reached the street level of the building, he continued assisting firefighters in escorting other injured people to safety. The firefighter who rescued him lost track of him for a while as he went about saving others. He was outside the building bringing others to medical personnel when he spotted her husband emerging from the crippled building, only to hear an heart-melting roar as the tower suddenly collapsed. The firefighter ran from the destruction, narrowly escaping his own death. Her husband perished.

By this time tears invaded the corners of every eye within the sound of her brave voice. She said, “It’s been hard but God has blessed me every step of the way. I am so fortunate to have discovered what happened to my husband.”  She spoke with joy, she spoke with peace, she spoke with optimism for her future. Not a syllable, not an utterance was tinged by anger or bitterness. While no one could ever “get over” such a tragedy, she has forged a new life for herself and dedicates herself to helping others. I stand in awe of the brave spirit she possesses.

The next time you are irked by the tiny annoyances of life, remember the story of this brave soul.