Reflecting on the 10 years that have passed since that fateful day provides an opportunity to consider what we have learned.
Ann Murphy, an English teacher at Southwick-Tolland Regional High School, is the sister of Brian Murphy, who was killed in the Sept. 11 terrorist attacks on New York.Editor's note: Ann M. Murphy, an English teacher at Southwick-Tolland Regional High School, is the sister of Brian J. Murphy, a vice president with Cantor Fitzgerald who was killed on Sept. 11, 2001, at the World Trade Center in New York City.
By ANN M. MURPHY
"All but Death, can be Adjusted,” noted poet Emily Dickinson. Individuals die every day; it is part of the natural cycle of life.
However, those who perished on Sept. 11, 2001 were NOT part of the natural cycle of life. Their lives were taken brutally as a result of the machinations of an evil cabal spearheaded by a madman.
Unfortunately, this type of senseless cruelty occurs on a daily basis in some parts of the world. Americans felt safe from this insanity as we supported our leaders in their quest to eradicate injustice around the globe. Sadly, it is this role as the world’s peacekeeper that made Americans a target of maniacal extremists.
Reflecting on the 10 years that have passed since that fateful day provides an opportunity to consider what we have learned. As an educator for 35 years, my life has been devoted to developing lessons which help young people discover and develop their talents.
What lessons have we learned from the tragedy of 9/11?
• Cherish those you love! Tell the people you love and care about how much they mean to you each day.
My brother, Brian Joseph Murphy, never called late at night as a rule. Uncharacteristically, on Sept. 10, 2001, he called at about 10:30 p.m. to talk about “his girls.” He told me how Jessica had enjoyed her first day of kindergarten and how Leila was excited to start preschool the next day.
Had we known that this was the last time we would ever talk to Brian, what would we have said differently? Our family has always been close, but 9/11 has made us cherish the time we get to spend together.
• Time does NOT heal all wounds!
Ten years, 3,652 days, 87, 48 hours, 5,258,880 minutes have passed since the 9/11 attacks, yet the ramifications of this national tragedy resonate daily in our lives.
Have we had to cope and move forward, working through the various stages of the grief process? Of course!
Yet, the deaths on 9/11 were such a public event that family members and friends of those who perished are continually reminded of their losses.
• Closure will never be fully achieved!
It is vital to remember the events on that horrific day, to honor the legacies of those lost and to insure that we do not become complacent.
Yet, the myriad stories and images throughout the media keep the wounds open. Seeing the image of smoke billowing from the World Trade Center towers and knowing that Brian was trapped in that inferno makes me nauseous to this day.
Brian’s widow, Dr. Judith Bram Murphy, phrased it so succinctly: “Sometimes you just want to go away and never look at another television, newspaper or magazine again.”
• Keep the memories alive!
At the time of the 9/11 attacks, Brian’s older daughter, Jessica, had just turned 5 and entered kindergarten. Leila, who was just entering preschool, turned 4 three weeks after Brian’s murder.
Brian J. Murphy with nephew Zachary Zimmerman and, left to right, daughter Jessica Murphy, niece Callahan Murphy, and daughter Leila Murphy in an undated family photo. Today, they are independent young ladies. Jessica is 15 and is in her sophomore year of high school. Leila will turn 14 in October and has begun her freshman year of high school.
Both are accomplished thespians, excellent students and dedicated athletes. Ten years for them is over two-thirds of their lifetimes.
How much do they recall about their dad? Sadly, their memories are few.
We make an effort to keep Brian’s memories alive with tales of his exploits. It is important for them to know that Brian was passionate about everything he did.
From his early quest to discover what happened when he rode his bicycle as fast as he could into the back of the garage (his fourth concussion!) to his desire to speed down the black diamond slopes in Vail, Brian tested his limits at every opportunity.
Equally passionate about knowledge, Brian earned his bachelor’s degree at Williams College at the age of 20, worked in publishing and finance and went on to earn his master’s degree in business administration at Columbia University.
It is compassion that was his hallmark. At his memorial service which was attended by over 1,000 individuals whose lives had been touched by Brian, he was fondly remembered as “everyone’s best friend.” Brian had a gift for bringing others together and sharing his unflagging joie de vivre!
Spending time with Brian’s girls on Cape Cod this summer, it is heartrending to observe so many facets of Brian reflected in their personalities. Their quest for excellence in all their pursuits, their intrepid nature as they pursue exciting adventures and their unflagging compassion for others are all components of Brian’s legacy. They share his quirky sense of humor and his love for adventure and travel.
Realistically, how much does one remember from childhood, especially at ages 4 and 5?
My senior students last year, members of the Class of 2011, were 8 and beginning Grade 3 when 9/11 occurred. Asking them to share their memories, they remembered parents and family members being glued to the television. They recalled getting hugged continuously. They shared that family members told them a very bad person had hurt lots of Americans.
How much do I remember from Sept. 11, 2001?
Disbelief was soon replaced by dismay and devastation as the horrors of that infamous morning unfolded. Certain memories are as vivid today as they were then.
Walking into the classroom next door to borrow a desk, I was startled by the images of burning buildings. Learning that it was the World Trade Center in New York City, my heart began racing. Brian worked on the 104th Floor of Tower 1 as a vice president at Cantor Fitzgerald.
Trying to gather information, a colleague watched my class so I was able to make telephone calls. Busy circuits hampered calls into New York City, but I was able to reach my brother Harold and my sister Cynthia who were joining forces to drive into the city. Our mom and dad, and Brian’s godmother were home in Westfield, watching the tragedy unfold on television.
The administrators of my school quickly arranged for afternoon class coverage so I could go home to be with my parents and to try to reach Judy, Brian’s wife and his daughters.
Harold and Cynthia reached Brian’s apartment in New York City in record time, squeezing onto the city over a small bridge in Harlem the city had forgotten to close; fortunately, they remembered a favorite shortcut of Brian’s to get around traffic delays.
Information was precious as word of mouth spread stories about the attacks. Harold and friends of Brian walked from East 68th Street to the site and were there as the smaller building fell. Sporadic reports back revealed the chaos, dread and uncertainty that enveloped the city.
Calling Brian’s cell phone repeatedly, it kept ringing with no answer. Calls to Verizon and friends in the communications industry could not activate the locator device precisely. Minutes stretched into hours as graphic and gruesome details were revealed.
Hopes were raised - and then dashed - as the hours turned into days with no information. Sleep was elusive.
Tragically, none of Brian’s remains were ever recovered. We knew he was there - he had emailed Judy three minutes before the first plane struck the building. His last message - “Let’s got to the movies tonite - see if you can get a babysitter!”
• Take time to savor life’s little moments!
“Life is what happens to you while you are busy making other plans” John Lennon wrote in his memorable song, “Beautiful Boy.”
Although there had been indicators about a potential attack on American soil, the magnitude of these attacks was unfathomable. We have learned to treat each day as a chance to make memories which will last a lifetime.
The support of family, friends and community has been invaluable in the healing process. Westfield lost three natives, Tara Shea Creamer, Daniel Trant and Brian. At their Williams Street headquarters in Westfield, the Sons of Erin erected a beautiful monument to honor these young people of Irish descent who lives ended so senselessly.
Each year, the Sons of Erin hold a poignant memorial service on Sept. 11 to honor Brian, Tara and Danny. Our families join together to reflect and remember.
Every day, we mourn Brian’s loss. More importantly, every day, we celebrate his life!