Never forget: The story of 9/11 must still be told

By RACHEL MORGAN

MANHATTAN - The terrorist attacks that claimed 2,751 lives on Sept. 11, 2001 did not discriminate. The victims of 9/11 came from different social classes, ages and occupations. They all had their own story.

Today, their families speak of a lost brother, daughter, uncle, son - a bus driver, pilot, businessperson, waiter. Despite their differences, the families of the victims of 9/11 seem to agree - theirs is a story that must be told.

On the 8th anniversary of 9/11, crowds still gather to remember and honor those who died. Zuccotti Park, adjacent to the World Trade Center site, was packed with people listening to the 2,751 victims’ names be read aloud at the World Trade Center Site Memorial Ceremony Friday.

Keith Hughes of Westchester County described watching the first plane hit the World Trade Center’s North Tower eight years ago.

“We thought it was a prop plane,” he said. “They didn’t know (the towers) were going to collapse.”

Hughes lost his brother Chris, 30, in the South Tower when it collapsed.

Nicholas Meschia of Albany puts it simply.

When the first plane hit, “(I felt) disbelief,” he said. When the second tower fell, it was “nauseating.”

Meschia’s cousin, Michael Clark, was a firefighter in Ladder 2 who died in the line of duty.

John Jordan of Long Island remembers the phone call that told him his brother, Andrew Jordan, a firefighter for the New York Fire Department, was missing.

“At noon that day, the fire department called to say he was missing,” he said. “We were hopeful for two weeks after that. We held on to hope every day, every night.”

Jordan grew quiet. His brother was one of the 343 firefighters who died in 9/11. He now attends the remembrance ceremony every year to listen for his brother’s name.

For some, 9/11 was a wake-up call.

Freyda Markow of Brooklyn began volunteering at Ground Zero immediately following 9/11 with the Red Cross and Salvation Army.

“It changed my life,” she said. “The things that you saw and did - you can’t forget it. It made me a better person, changed the way I looked at life.”

But for some, there will never be closure.

“My older son was a fireman and was killed on Sept. 11,” said Rita Riches of Brooklyn. “He would have turned 30 on Sept. 12.”

When the first plane hit, Riches was among the many who did not suspect the enormity of the disaster that was to follow.

“I thought it would be OK,” she said. “Whoever thought those towers would fall?”

Riches wears a small pin adorned with the number 343 on her red trench coat - the number of firefighters killed in the line of duty on 9/11.

She attends the remembrance ceremony every year.

“Where else would I be?” she said. “The crowd gets less and less every year. There are ceremonies in other buroughs. But why wouldn’t you want to be here? This is where it happened.”

Firefighting runs deep in the Riches family’s blood. Her husband, Jim Riches, is the deputy chief of the NYFD.

After their oldest brother died, Riches’ three other sons became firefighters.

They wear the badge numbers 734, 437 and 000 - in honor of their brother, whose badge number was 734.

While Riches speaks about her son in a clear and unwavering voice, it is clear she still carries the burden of a parent who has lost a child.

“Life doesn’t get any easier,” she said, casting her eyes toward the podium where names of the dead are being read.

Her son’s body was found in March 2002. The family was able to have a funeral and memorial service.

“People say you should have closure,” she said. “But what’s closure? That he’s in the ground, in bits and pieces? That’s not closure.”

In photo: An attendee of the remembrance ceremony holds a photo of his stepson, Wilder Gomez, who worked in the Windows on the World restaurant in the North Tower and was killed on 9/11.