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Friday, September 11, 2009

Two thousand, nine hundred, ninety-six.

One thousand, eight hundred, twenty-six.

It’s hard to picture any one thing in an amount like either of those two numbers, isn’t it?

So how about these numbers: Eight. Three. or One.

Eight years of little anniversaries, romantic gestures, dreams, and planning for the future. Eight years of marriage. Eight years that aren't enough.

Three children, growing and learning and loving. Three sets of school plays and football games and high school proms and moving into adulthood. Three children doing that without a father.

And just One Benjamin Suarez.



One man, father, husband, brother, uncle, friend.

One Benny, who can no longer show of his tattoos signifying his two great passions - the name of his wife Sally on one arm, and a dragon entwined with the emblem of the New York Fire Department on the other.


One Benny who was tender and romantic, often remembering little anniversaries even his wife forgot.

One Benny, who had dreams of buying a house with his wife. Who wanted nothing more than to make Sally happy, saying “'I could live in a cardboard box, but I have to make sure you have the house you want.'”

One Benny who grew up in Brooklyn always active in church and the community, so that becoming someone who spent his life working for others was a natural progression.

One Benny who was a familar face to all in the neighborhood, who could go no place in the district where he wasn't known and loved by all.


One Benny, who loved his job as a firefighter in Manattan’s Ladder Company 21, at 38th Street for the excitement, the time with the community and because the flexible schedule allowed him to be with his children and attend their events proudly, sometimes bringing the whole ladder company along with him.

Two thousand, nine hundred, ninety-six lives were lost on September 11, 2001.

That was two thousand, nine hundred, twenty days ago, when
One Benjamin Suarez, at Thirty-Six years old, after working a Twenty-Four hour shift, called and said his last words to his wife:
“I have to help the people”.


~~~~~

The Tower

Into the Tower, we must go
There’s people in trouble,
We all know.

The towers stretch into the sky
Over one hundred stories high.

As people run out every way
They are in trouble they can not stay

Down the stairs, they must go lower
To leave the danger of the tower.

For damage caused to the towers beauty,
We must go in, it is our duty.

As we go high we have to poke
Because the thickness of the smoke

Its getting hot as we go higher
The intense heat of burning fire.

This is real, its no dream
As people run, and people scream

As things drop of the damaged tower
People hide and people cower.

We did not know it would fall
We done our duty
We gave our all.


Written by David Boyce
On the 30th of May 2004

South Wales police officer sc7061 Boyce was one of 340 to attend 9/11 memorial 2002 at Ground Zero and says:

Since returning to the United Kingdom after the 2002 memorial visit I found my spiritual side and I started writting spiritual poetry.
This came to me one morning on 30 May 2004 by a fire fighter by the name similar to Suarez. Until a short time ago I did not know if this was correct.
I have just looked at the lost list and found the name Benjamin Suarez who was lost at 9/11 WTC.
I had the visions of actually going up the stairs within the tower whilst the rescue was taking place, although I [had] never actually been to New York until the 2002 911 memorial.
Please send this to the relevant people who may appreciate this poem.

God Bless them all
Dave Boyce

~~~~~

Janine of Staten Island made this quilt for the family of Firefighter Benjamin Suarez, in his memory. The quilt was delivered in person to the fire station in August 2002.

1 Comments:

Anonymous Anonymous said...

Thank you for sharing your memories. My nephew also died on Sept. 11 at the Pentagon. Thank you for remembering our heros and how we will never forget them or stop loving them.

4:43 PM  

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