Those whom I have know that are now lost

September 11th 2002

A year later.

Being on Long Island there’s a buffer that you can feel from New York City. But one year ago that buffer disappeared. I remember wakening up that morning to the phone. My best friend excitedly told me that a plane had hit the World Trade Center. I turned on CNN and saw that horrendous gaping hole in the tower. I had just enough time to wipe the sleep out before the second plane hit. Until then my mind had told me wither it was a stupid pilot error or some kind of equipment error. At the point the second hit it told me that we were under attack. Needless to say I freaked. I couldn't move. I threw my robe on and went upstairs to watch the news unfold on a larger TV. Then the pentagon story began. I was in awe. Barely able to speak or think. I sat there talking to my friend on the call and began to call family members to make sure all was ok. When the first tower fell my emotions let loose like a dam exploding. Hatred, sadness, and shock hit me all at once. I began cussing at the TV while tears flowed freely from my eyes. I had to go to work but that was more a joke than anything. No one moved the TVs were all on CNN. Shock was all we had. I remember walking out under that beautiful blue sky and listened to the silence. It seemed the world had stopped. No planes, no birds, no cars, not even a cricket. I stood there thinking about all those who are now dead. The numbers were unknown they speculated from 1,000 people to 40,000 people. They sent us home and I met up with my then-girlfriend Lauren. I was no longer in shock. I was ANGRY, I must have offended her, all I could think was "How dare they hurt MY city.", "They attacked MY backyard." she kept trying to correct me by saying our. I didn't listen. The next day I found out about my friend Mary-Ellen's father who worked there did not make it home. I already knew the worst. A week later I found out my friend and ex-co-worker Anthony Perez also never made it out. I grieve for these men. They died for no other reason than because some mad man a half a world away didn't like us. "Sorry kids, mommy and daddy aren't coming home anymore because they worked in the wrong place at the wrong time." What a way to introduce kids to death and hatred all at once. Hatred begins at home with the parents, is fueled by friends, and then when mixed with a fanatical leader makes what would become a terrorist. But this page is not to deplore hatred. It's not even completely public. It's a reminder for me. A record so that I wont forget Mr. Marino or Anthony anytime soon.

Anthony Perez

(03.31.1968 - 09.11.2001)

When I started on the phones at Optimum Online I was greener that a Granny Smith apple. After sitting with some of the technicians I noticed that most of them when they had a problem would ask one guy. Anthony. I asked the guy I was sitting with, Jim, if he was the manager or a lead. I found he was just the most knowledgeable. I began to ask Anthony questions, how to do my job well. Over many months I taxed his brain and learned a lot. He taught me how to do my job and how to handle the more difficult customers. If not for him I probably would've never made it through that job. We talked and he told me a little about his family. His two kids with one the way. He was so happy. Then he left and went to work for Cantor-Fitzgerald. The rest is history. God let Anthony rest in piece and let his murderers find divine justice. Or just let them wait for me to get there.

Cantor Family Tribute Page

Lester Marino

(12.16.1943 - 09.11.2001)

I didn't know Mr. Marino all that much. He seemed a good man when I did meet him at a block party. All I could think was that he looked like Popeye’s dad. Although none of my friends seemed to remember Popeye had a pappy (look up Poopdeck Pappy), anyway he was an okay guy and I wish I could've known him better.

Written September 11 2002 2:21 AM

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