Ten Years Later (25 page)

The letter, typed on official White House stationery, offered sympathies from the
Bushes and thanked Ron for his “selfless efforts”:
Your actions in the midst of this national tragedy were truly heroic. Your protecting
and leading Jennieann Maffeo to safety as she struggled for her life reflected the
best of the American spirit.

The letter is not displayed in the house. Ron had to dig it out of an antique glass
cabinet that Ruth gave him and Brigid as a wedding present. I ask Ron about his heroic
act, not using that phrase. I ask him where the instinct came from to stay with Jennieann,
a woman he didn’t know, at a time when everyone else was running for their lives.

“People ran by us when I was in the lobby because they were just appalled and disgusted
and horrified at the look of this woman,” Ron says, placing his palm on his heart.
“I mean, I was absolutely horrified as well, but I know from our Irish Catholic upbringing
that you never leave someone in distress, that you are totally one hundred percent
responsible for them until you can pass them on to the next medical station in life.
That was ingrained in me growing up.”

The years following the darkest days for Ron were filled with various business ventures
and raising Monica. With donations that poured in from the States and Ireland, the
family created the Juliana Valentine McCourt Children’s Education Fund, a foundation
to promote tolerance in children. Ron’s mother, Paula, manages the six-acre McCourt
Memorial Garden in Connecticut, officially opened in 2005, as a family tribute to
Juliana and Ruth, who loved to garden.

In April 2006, Ron was asked by the Federal Bureau of Investigation to testify, along
with thirty-nine other government witnesses, in the trial of Zacarias Moussaoui, accused
of conspiring to
kill Americans in the 9/11 attacks. Ron says an FBI agent suggested he bring then-fifteen-year-old
Monica to the trial in Alexandria, Virginia. Ron was skeptical, knowing that Monica
never talked about 9/11 and that therapists told him to let her bring it up when she
was ready. Monica was at least ready to listen. She was seated directly across from
Moussaoui and, for the first time, heard her father’s version of events that day.

Monica joins us in the living room. She shows me the special gift she received from
Ron’s mom for her recent twenty-first birthday: one of her aunt Ruth’s rings, set
with an aqua-blue stone. Monica also tells me about a family trip the summer before
9/11, when she enjoyed special treats from her aunt Ruth and time with her little
“sidekick.”

“Juliana was four and I was ten, so she would follow me everywhere. We slept in the
same room,” Monica recalls. “She would do everything I would do. If I said I didn’t
want eggs, she would say”—she crosses her arms in defiance like Juliana—“ ‘I don’t
want eggs either.’ ”

Ron raises his eyebrows at me when Monica talks about her deceased aunt and cousin,
as if to say, “Wow, she never does this.”

Monica says she was interested in going to the Moussaoui trial to support her dad
and to gain some perspective on an event that occurred when she was quite young. I
ask her what she thought of her father’s testimony.

“It was incredible.” She pauses. “I didn’t realize how close he was to the action.
He was very brave.”

For Ron, the trial provided tremendous relief; a hint of justice for his sister, niece,
and all the victims; and an open door to more dialogue with his daughter.

“When we drove out of Alexandria that day toward home, I just thought,
My God, the cloud has lifted
.” Ron adds, “And I remember that was a huge moment. We had the trial, and this guy
was found guilty.”

Ron supports the life sentence for Moussaoui and the killing of Osama bin Laden, and
he’s eager for the government to push forward with the promised military trials for
the remaining 9/11 terrorists held in the Guantànamo Bay detention camp.

“I’m adamant about having my day in court. These guys killed a lot of people, wrecked
a lot of families, changed the face of America and the world. Every time I get on
a plane I think about them. Every time I stand in a security line taking my shoes
off I think about them. We’ve got to have some justice.”

Each year, on the anniversary of 9/11, Ron avoids all media coverage of the wretched
morning. He chooses instead to spend the day sailing the Long Island Sound. There’s
always a special birthday gift for Monica that day, but she celebrates with friends
on the weekend before or after the anniversary. My chat with Ron is one month after
the much-anticipated ten-year anniversary, which he spent in Ireland with his brothers.
The oldest, John, for the last ten years has housed the shard of glass the police
officer brought to Ron from Ground Zero. The family decided to etch the infamous date
on the glass and to pass it off to each other every ten years. The glass is supposed
to spend the next ten years with Ron, but he says he couldn’t bring himself to take
the memento away from John’s kids; it remains in Ireland. As we talk about his recent
trip, Ron calls up several photos on his BlackBerry PlayBook; a new niece, Kayla Juliana,
is a bright spot. The once-very-black humor is now simply healthy, as he points out
a photo of an elaborate limestone headstone for Juliana and Ruth on the family plot
in Cork. The sculptor has engraved the wrong birth date for Ruth.

“She’d
love
that!” Ron says with a grin.

As for the hallowed site here in the United States, Ron says he avoids Ground Zero.
Friends visiting for Thanksgiving want to tour the new memorial and museum, but he
won’t join them. Ron says he makes a point of navigating around the area whenever
possible.

“I got a flat tire on my way back from sailing several years ago right there. I thought,”
Ron laughs as if his sister was trying to get his attention, “
Ruth! Aw, Ruth!
I just felt like,
I gotta get the hell out of here
. I just don’t feel good down there.”

Ten years later, some residual angst still lingers in Ron’s daily life. He’s still
startled by the explosive noise of his neighbor starting up his motorcycle. He continues
to wake up from dreams where people jump off the Twin Towers. One element that’s never
been
part of Ron’s struggle is regret, and for that, he’s grateful. He’s made a point throughout
his life of letting family and friends know how he feels about them. He didn’t have
the chance before his brother Gordon died, so, from that day on, and with Ruth’s encouragement,
he openly expressed his love for the people in his life. Ron says the loss of his
father, sister, niece, and Paige would have been harder by tenfold if regret was added
to the mix of pain and sadness.

“I think that’s why people have a really bad time with some death and loss,” Ron says,
“because they haven’t resolved any issues where they feel guilty. That’s why you have
to cherish people and don’t go to bed feeling angry in your heart toward the one you
love. Just figure it out. I have some very good friends, and even though we’re guys,
we tell each other we love each other. It’s like, ‘Love you, Jim,’ you know? It’s
not being the least bit effeminate. You just have to tell people you care about them.”

Ron has also found comfort in being grateful for his life, despite the losses. He
loves the words a dear friend shared with him, a friend who’s been battling cancer
over the last few years. Ron says even through the rigorous regimen of treatments,
his ill friend expressed gratitude.

“He had an exercise bike put next to his bed. He got out of bed in the hospital every
morning and exercised, even as he was literally dying. One day he turned to me, and
he wasn’t a religious guy, but he turned to me and said, ‘You know, if there’s a heaven
after this, it’s a bonus.’ ”

As we wrap up the interview, Ron makes a point of telling me about the pretty houses
along his street. He points to the left and encourages me, excitedly, to “go that
way!” so I won’t miss the sights. I’m amazed by this man’s upbeat attitude and passion
for life after all he’s weathered. I tell Ron that people who read his story will
want a magic bullet, his secret to coming out the other side of calamity with such
a genuinely positive outlook on life.

“For me, would I like it to never have happened? Yes.” He wipes his palms together
back and forth in a washing-away motion. “But you gotta carry on with life. You can’t
just delay it. You can’t feel sorry for yourself. Maybe you can for a month or whatever,
but you gotta just hit it full blast. You just have to deal with things and try to
think logically. Would this person who you lost want you to lose your life as a result
of them losing theirs? I think no, they wouldn’t.” Ron ponders. “They’d want you to
go forward.”

In May 2012, Ron had a home visit from Ed Ryan, one of the lead federal prosecutors
in the upcoming death penalty case against alleged 9/11 mastermind Khalid Sheikh Mohammed
and four accused coconspirators. Ryan and Ron have stayed in touch over the years,
so Ryan knew that Ron and other victims’ families were interested in their day in
court.

“Having our day is a very good thing,” says Ron. “I keep thinking of Lee Hanson, this
guy in his sixties, and his wife. He wants the trial before he dies. His son and daughter-in-law
and grandchild were on Ruth’s plane.”

Ron says his specific role in the proceedings is to share the trauma of not only escaping
death himself but having to endure the sudden and tremendous loss of Ruth, Juliana,
and Paige. The military trial will be held in Guantànamo Bay, where the suspects are
imprisoned. Ron and anywhere from twenty to forty family members of victims will fly
to the U.S. base in southeast Cuba to testify at the trial, its start date still to
be determined. Ron will have several more visits with the Department of Justice to
finalize the details of his testimony and what he might encounter during cross-examination.

“You can’t forget those horrible details, y’know?”

I ask him if he needs to do anything to prepare for yet another unearthing of his
buried anger and sadness.

“No, I think I’m emotionally there. I have often fantasized about killing the guy,
y’know. I’m not that way, but when you start to read again about this maniacal nut
who just orchestrated everything, the guy who held Daniel Pearl’s head after he cut
it off, when you read all the evidence against this animal, you start to get very,
very angry that he could orchestrate a plan that did so much damage to our world.”

The suspects will face charges including terrorism, hijacking, conspiracy, murder,
and destruction of property. They could face the death penalty if found guilty. I
ask Ron if he’s on board with capital punishment for Khalid Sheikh Mohammed, for his
role in the deaths of 2,976 people.

“Totally. Most definitely. I think this is one of the few times in life that you say,
‘Look, there’s so much evidence, he’s admitted it, he doesn’t deserve to live. He
doesn’t deserve to be part of this life.’ ” Ron continues, “It’ll never be closure,
but it will be a step to say, ‘Yes, we went to court and the guy who was responsible
for this, who crafted this, who put this together, who designed this, he’s ultimately
responsible and we have charged him, and he’ll never see the light of day, or he’ll
get the death penalty.’ ”

Ron’s not yet sure whether Monica or his youngest brother, Mark, will join him. He
plans to use the challenging experience, as he has many times in his life, as another
chance to learn and grow.

“It will be a good testament to how somebody gets tried under our constitution,” he
says, “and how the American justice system works for everybody, even people like him.”

Hiding in plain sight. That’s how you could describe Roxanne Quimby’s story when we
found it. We were on the hunt for a rags-to-riches story, fascinated by people who
had the drive and the perseverance to create something from nothing, and Roxanne’s
name popped up. Huh. How could we not already know this woman’s name, like we do Sam
Walton or Debbi Fields? Over the years, this masterful marketer has had no interest
in promoting herself or her incredible story. Roxanne clearly wonders why someone
would make a fuss about her journey. I love that about her. In Roxanne’s mind, this
life offers us the chance to dream it and do it. Why waste time talking about it?
There are too many other things to accomplish.