Mark

As soon as I entered, I knew exactly where I wanted to go.  North Tower memorial.  I wanted to run there, not walk.  The main entrance onto the grounds is by the South, where most everyone stopped first for photo opps and reflection.  I fast walked straight to North, as straight of a path as it would let me.  North was having a private military ceremony of sorts, and was stopped by someone to please wait until they finished.  I didn’t say a thing, but stared where I wanted to go.  The man asked if I knew someone, and I choked.  I couldn’t talk.  All of the air was vacuumed out of the sky and my tears were dropping from nowhere.  All I could do was nod yes.  He immediately let me through and told me to take my time.

I just wanted to be in that space, to see his name, alone with no one around.  To have a private moment before the crowds of visitors made their way over to the North memorial.  Reflecting on that day, on him.  I stood there motionless for what felt like years, at the same time an instant.  When I finally looked, my watch told me a solid hour.  I prayed, I talked quietly out loud, I cried silently and continuously under my sunglasses.  I stood there frozen, doing everything I could to not draw attention to myself.  I traced his name with my fingers a million times.  I prayed more.  I thought I would be ready to leave, and I would still just stand there.  All of that day and those moments, and all that followed flooded my mind again.

After over an hour, there was no way I was going to get out my ‘good camera’.  There was no way I was going to take photos with it there, that morning… it felt so wrong, so touristy, so detached when feeling something so personal.  But I did want to remember.  So I took out my iPhone as my 1st gesture of movement.  I took these photos with my iPhone, and left them on my cell until now. I haven’t shared these with anyone.  I don’t even know why I’m typing all of this.  Or sharing all of this.

I guess because Mark was one of good ones.  One of those people, those rare as a gem people, who are magnetic and so likable by so so many, and blessed with a great head on his shoulders and great sense of life and fun and adventure.  So many people verified his magnetic personality and zest for life with stories of remembrance at Mark’s funeral, not to mention the overflow of those who loved him in attendance, packed in the large church.  I remember bringing one of the first home-cooked meals to Mark’s family.  Mark’s mom answered the door to receive.  I don’t think I’ve ever been more speechless than in that moment… don’t know if I even uttered anything… but I do remember Mark’s mom exactly like a photograph in my mind.  And her voice.  And her eyes.

Mark was a coworker of mine, as well as good family friend to my parents that I had met years before working in the same division.  He was attending a conference representing our company in the North Tower that random Tuesday morning on the 106th floor.  I still vividly replay the last time I saw him… in the hallway at work, passing each other with hellos and smiles… and then tomorrow came… and then gone.  The world lost a super human being, with a big friendly smile to match his larger than life self (about 6’6″).  Left this world as a loving husband and great father to a then 5 year old son.