We All Fall Down: The True Story of the 9/11 Surfer (22 page)

“I’m sorry,” Lou said, shaking his head, “but to be frank with you, we already have more volunteers than we know what to do with.”

Kathryn was surprised by this and was momentarily crestfallen. He turned to leave but, never one to give up, she pressed on. “Look, I-I…Mr. Pannera, you have to let me do something. With everything that has happened, I just can’t work. I can’t…I can’t
do
anything, none of my normal stuff anyway. But maybe I can do something for the Red Cross. I know you have plenty to deal with already, but…well, if you don’t let me volunteer, I know I’m going to start to spiral downward, because my boyfriend Michael, well, he’s out there helping, you know? He is in the hole at Ground Zero, and he’s risking his life, and I’m losing a bunch of friends. Look, sir, please! I
have
to help. I don’t care how. Somehow, I just have to help. I promise I’ll do anything you need. I will…” She hesitated for a moment, not sure what else to say.

Lou looked directly into her eyes and put his hands on her shoulders.

Feeling reassured, Kathryn went on. “You know, I’ll make copies, I’ll fetch you water or coffee or whatever. I’ll do anything for you—
anything
! Just please let me help.”

Moved by her conviction, Lou knew immediately that Kathryn would be a true asset to the feverish efforts of the Red Cross. He offered to put her to work right away, and Kathryn couldn’t possibly turn that offer down. Just like that, she’d found a way to help—to help Michael, to help Eric, to help…all of them.

~ ♦ ~

Louise stood in stunned silence. She could not believe what she’d heard from the stranger on the other end of the phone. After a few seconds, she heard the voice again.

“Hello? Are you there?”

“Um, yeah. Excuse me, but I-I don’t think I heard you right,” Louise answered.

“My name is Kathryn Carey. My boyfriend is Michael Lyons. He’s a firefighter, and he was at the Twin Towers on September 11. He told me they saved a man named Pasquale, whose wife was pregnant.”

“Oh...my God!” Louise did not know what else to say for a moment, but then she finally managed to squeak out, “You’re serious, aren’t you?”

“Yes. I am 100 percent serious,” Kathryn said.

Again, Louise stayed silent for a few more seconds before exclaiming, “Wow! Kathryn—you said your name is Kathryn, right?”

“Yes.”

“I can’t believe it! I am Louise, by the way!” Louise could hardly think straight. The rush of emotions she felt started to overwhelm her. “Kathryn, your boyfriend—Michael, did you say? He saved my husband’s life?!”

“So Pasquale
is
your husband and you
are
pregnant?” Kathryn asked, hopeful.

“Yes and yes. I am
very
pregnant!” Louise exclaimed.

“Oh my God! You have no idea how hard I have been trying to find you!”

“I cannot believe this! How did you ever find us?” Louise asked, breathless from excitement.

“Well, it’s really kind of a long story…”

~ ♦ ~

After her conversation with Lou Pannera, Kathryn got straight to work. For weeks, she was constantly on the move, giving her all to her volunteer efforts and doing anything they asked of her. Though it was tiring, she was very grateful to have a reason to stay busy. It seemed that every few hours, there was news of yet another body being found among the ruins. It became too much to handle, so Kathryn threw herself into her volunteer work.

After a week or so, she found herself looking for even more work to keep her distracted. One day, she was sent to drop off some paperwork at the United Firefighter’s Association (UFA). She noticed how busy they were and saw an opportunity to do some good. “Hello,” she said politely, introducing herself to the person in charge. “I volunteer with the Red Cross, and I would like to help here. Is there anything I can do to pitch in?”

“Of course! We can always use help around here. We’ll put you to work if you’re willing.”

Kathryn was more than willing, and because she was, she found herself in charge of the Red Cross Family Assistance Center.

The hours were long, sometimes requiring her to be there for eighteen, twenty, or even twenty-four hours at a time. The long hours were not the most taxing part of the job however; the strain of the job came from dealing with the countless people, all those hopeless, helpless faces of strangers begging her for information about their missing loved ones. Kathryn heartbreakingly met mothers looking for their children, pregnant women who could not find their husbands, men searching for their wives—countless grieving souls just clutching onto anything they could find to offer even the slightest bit of solace. Just as heart wrenching were the stories she heard from the men and women tasked with cleaning up after the tragedy that had been perpetrated by men who lurked in the shadows like cowards.

So many grown men, the strongest America could offer, collapsed in Kathryn’s open arms. They had no idea how to cope with the mental anguish they were in, and even worse, they felt weak for needing a shoulder to lean on. No matter who needed her, Kathryn did her best to help however she could; if all they needed was a shoulder, she would be that.

As much as she wanted to help everyone, she found she could not help those closest to her. In fact, she could not even help herself. She wanted so badly to help Michael who, despite his stoic façade, was starting to crumble under the weight of so much disaster and death. She kept thinking about the man he and the valiant men he worked with had saved, that Pasquale with the pregnant wife. She knew Michael needed a glimmer of hope. Everyone did—even Kathryn herself. So, the volunteer formed a plan.

She decided she would search any public record she could get her hands on, and there were plenty of them. She was tenacious in her search to find the man Michael had helped to save. Even before this pursuit, her determination had earned her a nickname, “The Bulldog,” because she’d taken on the mayor’s office, demanding to keep communication open. No amount of resistance could deter her, even if it meant countless hours of searching through records with only a first name and a simple fact at her disposal.

~ ♦ ~

“You found us with just a
first
name?!” Louise asked, flabbergasted.

“Well, Pasquale’s name is sort of unique, I guess, and I knew his wife was pregnant,” Kathryn replied.

“Oh, Kathryn…” Louise could not find the words needed to express what she was feeling. After all Kathryn had gone through to find them, Louise felt words would not suffice, “I-I don’t quite know what to say, but…thank you, and thank God He sent those men…Michael and those other men—no, not men, those
angels—
to save my husband. Thank you so much for looking for us. We tried, too, to find the firemen who rescued him, but we just kept hitting a wall, with no information on any of them. Pasquale is going to be so happy. You have no idea!”

CHAPTER TWENTY-SIX

Just in Time

“
I thought I’d cry—kissing my father, coming down the aisle, the dance with him, and all the bittersweet

that goes along with your wedding day…but I didn’t cry. My cheeks hurt so much from grinning that by

the end of the day, I just couldn’t laugh or smile anymore. I was so happy, so sure.

That was the one thing I was really, really sure about in my life… Pasquale.”

~ Louise Buzzelli

Louise stood in complete silence, her father by her side. Everyone had warned her of how nervous she’d be, had told her that it was completely normal to second-guess a decision so lofty that would ultimately affect the path of her life. They had the best of intentions and may have been right about most brides, but not about her. She was as ready as one could be and did not feel even the slightest twinge of doubt. Instead, she felt as if the moments she spent standing there, waiting for the big wooden doors to open, were a waste—some kind of cruel taunt, like a child’s bedroom clock ticking far too slowly down to Christmas morning. Those moments were just obstacles, standing in the way of the one when the life she’d always dreamt of could begin.

“You ready, baby?” Harry asked his little girl all grown up.

“More ready than I have ever been for anything, Daddy,” Louise replied. She looked into his eyes and gave him a smile, and he squeezed her hand.

A few seconds later, the big wooden doors before them were thrown open. All was silent as hundreds of eyes fell on her in her sleeveless white dress with the scooped neck. Louise was positively radiant, so much so that they likely could have shut off all the lights and she still would have glowed. After a second, the first few beats of Mendelssohn’s famed “Wedding March” began to play, and she remembered suddenly that she was supposed to start walking.

Louise made her way up the aisle between the friends and family members who stood in anticipation of her and Pasquale’s big moment. She was so happy, in a way she never thought possible. The trek up the aisle seemed to take so long; she just wanted to drop her bouquet and sprint into Pasquale’s waiting arms.

Eventually she took that final step, the one that allowed her to stand in front of the man she loved, looking lovingly into Pasquale’s eyes. She turned to her father and gave him a kiss on the cheek. “I love you, Daddy,” she whispered.

Harry smiled at her, then reached out his hand toward Pasquale. “Thank you, Pasquale,” Harry said. “Now I know my daughter is in good hands.” Harry shook Pasquale’s hand with both of his, standing rooted to the spot and shaking his head. He could not believe the day had come for him to give his daughter away. He was so happy that his beloved Louise, his cherished sister’s namesake and the living representation of the love he’d shared with his darling Josephine, had found her soul mate, but he still did not want the moment to end. After a minute, Louise tapped her father on his shoulder; he jumped slightly, as if he’d forgotten that a ceremony was taking place.

“Thank you, Mr. Mascia. I’ll take good care of her. I promise.”

“I know you will. I know…” He wiped his eye, smiled at them one last time, and then took his seat next to his older daughter Susan and his niece Marie.

“Let us pray…
Preggiamo
.” Father Michael began a prayer, repeating each line in English and Italian so all in attendance could follow.

Even though the ceremony was twice as long due to the bilingual mass, for the happy couple, it seemed to breeze by. No sooner had it started than Pasquale was slipping the ring on Louise’s finger.
My God…we did it! I can’t believe we are here, in this moment!
And then, before she knew it, Father Michael was saying, “
Puoi baciarela sposa
!
You may kiss the bride!” and the whole church erupted in cheers and applause.

The reception was a jovial affair, full of laughter, tears of joy, and the loud, boisterous voices of so many Italians, all there to celebrate the love that Louise and Pasquale shared. Everyone in attendance was full of joy, but none more so than Pasquale’s dear cousin, one of the groom’s lifelong friends.

“May I have everyone’s attention?” beckoned Ralph, a tall, fit, handsome, tattoed man with dark hair and the same blue eyes as Pasquale’s. He raised his glass, tapped the side with a spoon to get everyone’s attention, then announced, “I have a speech prepared!” Ralph looked over at Pasquale and Louise, both smiling so widely. He took a deep breath, let out a long sigh, and tried to continue “I-I have a speech...” he mumbled before turning away from the microphone and bringing his hands to his eyes.

“Oh, Ralph,” Louise whispered to Pasquale, tears in her own eyes.

Ralph grabbed a cloth napkin from the table, dabbed his forehead with it, then mustered up the strength to go on. “Wow, P. You are...you’re like a brother to me,” he said before stopping again, trying so hard to compose himself. “And, Louise, you...you’re going to be my sister! I just...we were kids, Pasquale! And now, look at you! You’re married, and...” Ralph, always a strong, confident guy, just could not get the words out. For the first time in his life, he was speechless. He kept stringing the syllables together, little by little, trying to get out the thoughts his heart would not allow him to express, but they just would not come through the emotion.

Despite this, Pasquale and Louise knew exactly what he meant. Louise was especially touched and thought it was a perfect speech, regardless of the words that were or weren’t spoken; she could feel the sentiment emanating from him and straight to them.

~ ♦ ~

Louise thought back on that day and that speech often. Even now, more than three years later. As she sat in the familyroom, she looked over at Pasquale. She wished she could make him feel that happy again, rather than having to watch him sitting and staring, dead-eyed, at those god-awful images that kept playing over and over again on the big screen in their familyroom. She could not bear to watch him any longer, struggling like that, so she sneaked off to call Dara, who always managed to make her feel better.