As I scrolled through Facebook I came upon a post from a grammar school friend. We lost tough over the years but reconnected in 2015 after her son took his own life. Two years later I
joined her in the same kind of two-pronged grief, losing a child, with the cause of death suicide. In her post she reminded us, and me, that today is World Suicide Prevention Day. I know, every day, and every month now, every second is a something something. It's nice. It means well. But really does it matter?
Suicide sucks. Actually it fucking sucks. I've seen it from just about every angle you can, EMT, FF, RN, APRN, ambulance, fire rescue, ED, inpatient psych, private practice, my cousin, and my son in my own home. While there's things we can do about it and for the person, in the end we can't protect people from themselves 24/7. We can try, but it's their choice, and their life. If you know someone who is in this population, thoughts, attempts, or success, I feel for you. If you need help, call the suicide prevention hotline to get them or yourself on the road to wellness. That number is 988. That's the national number and your state may have its own resource. Reach out. Suicide is a permanent solution to a temporary problem, or so they say.
And it's the eve of September 11th. I discuss it every year as I remember it like it was yesterday. My service started on the 11th at University Hospital in Newark, followed by a night tour in the firehouse, and then my driving at dawn on September 12th.
The above image was captured shortly after my crew arrived. Past me is the once Winter Garden Atrium, a 10 story glass atrium that stood at the former World Financial Center. We came in from the Hudson River side and on the other side was West Street, which fronted the World Trade Center.
The 25th anniversary of some things can be good. Wedding's are silver. For police and fire 25 is the mark you hit for retirement. And for anything else they can be painful. Deaths, wars, and terrorist attacks. The television and social media will have all the content you need as we remember, and we do need to remember.
So many lost at the WTC, Shanksville, and the Pentagon. So many families and friends left with sorrow and pain. And so many responders who were injured or made sick, some who have died, others living with the effects. We were a strong country after the attacks on our people and soil, how quickly we have forgot.
I spent five days at the World Trade Center. On Thursday the 13th I brought my father and brother over. They were both ironworkers and were ready to help. No doubt search and rescue operations couldn't have gone out without heavy machinery and cranes and workers to operate them.
I have two images of my Dad and brother at the site. Both poor in quality but they will always make me proud when I look at them. Since I have been playing with ChatGpt I asked "them" to clean them up a bit.
While the likenesses are a bit off the cleaned up version sharpens some of the details. These images are ones I posted here on various 9/11's since I started this in 2009. One image that I'll
keep original is one someone sent me of the three of us together taking a break in between time on the piles. Everyone has a 9/11 experience, and while painful, it is important to listen when someone shares their story. Soon the years will pass and first hand accounts won't be readily available. I hope the United States of America never has to experience this again.