We All Fall Down: The True Story of the 9/11 Surfer (21 page)

“Louise, Pasquale, how are you both?” Dr. Cho asked.

“We’re okay, Doctor,” Pasquale said.

“Oh, Pasquale, we are
not
okay.” She waved him off and turned to the doctor. “He always keeps things to himself. We are both very nervous, Dr. Cho.”

“Well, don’t be,” Dr. Cho said and smiled.

“You mean…?” Louise asked, unable to say the words.

“Yes! You are going to be parents!”

“Oh my God!” Louise exclaimed as she put her hand to her mouth.

Pasquale jumped out of his chair, and they both hugged as Louise cried tears of joy. They were both so caught up in the emotion that Pasquale reached out and grabbed Dr. Cho, who was much smaller than him, and pulled him in close, holding him in one big group hug.

“Congratulations to you both!” Dr. Cho said after they released him from the bear hug, “Now, I have another patient to tend to, so I will leave you two to enjoy this moment alone.”

“Thank you so much, Doctor!” Louise said before turning to hug Pasquale again.

Dr. Cho, humble as he was about his life-changing work, simply smiled, nodded, and left the room.

“Can you believe it, P.? You’re going to be a daddy! Oh my God! Your parents are going to be so thrilled!”

Pasquale smiled at his wife, the would-be mother of his child, and hugged her again. He was always the strong, silent type, and at moments like that, he had trouble finding the right words. He knew of none that could express the feelings of elation coursing through his body, so he instead settled for kissing Louise on the top of her head and hugging her close.

CHAPTER TWENTY-FIVE

And Now We Meet…the Bulldog!

“Helping the Red Cross helped me get through it all.”

~ Kathryn Carey

A pretty woman with dark hair was sitting alone, her elbows on her knees and her head hanging in defeat. Kathryn Carey’s normally vibrant brown eyes were now empty, as if the tragedy of the prior day had sucked the life right out of her. It was September 12, 2001, just after 1:00 a.m., and she could not even manage to shed a tear for the loss she was feeling. There was so much sadness surrounding her, but she was utterly numb inside.
Who the fuck does this?
she thought.
Who runs a plane into a building full of civilians? So many dead…so many! And Michael? What do I do with Michael? What do I do with his… with his body?

~ ♦ ~

If ever anyone was born to be anything, Michael Lyons was born to be a firefighter. He was born in America but spent most of his youth in Ireland. He did well in school and was university educated. For a while, he worked as a teacher, but he felt called to do something else, as if he was needed elsewhere. Despite the prospect of a life lived in relative leisure, he opted for a much more difficult existence, one that would ultimately be more rewarding. He felt compelled to serve his fellow man, and he did so by signing on to become a firefighter. He knew it would be dangerous, but he had never backed away from danger to spare himself, and the morning of September 11, 2001 was no different. He heard a distress call and answered, not because he had to, but because he felt it was the right thing to do. That was just the way Michael was.

Kathryn and Michael were enjoying some well-deserved time off. They always seemed to be on the go, but they’d decided to spend a weekend away from their responsibilities and go horseback riding. They returned to Brooklyn on Monday night, even though they had Tuesday off, because Kathryn had a doctor’s appointment to be checked out for the severe stomach pains she’d been experiencing for a while. Michael had asked his friend Mike Morabito to cover for him so he could be with Kathryn on her doctor visit. But that all changed early Tuesday morning when they turned on the radio…

“Holy shit, Kath!” Michael exclaimed as he listened to the news,

“What…that’s not…It isn’t real, is it? Turn on the TV!”

Within moments, the television—every channel—confirmed that what the radio was saying was, in fact, the awful, horrible, truthful reality.

“It’s all over the news, every channel. Oh my God! Mike was…he covered for me today! All the guys will be down there. K., I’m sorry, but I have to go…NOW! I have to get down there and help them.”

Kathryn was scared and did not want Michael to leave her, but she understood and did not argue. She kissed him goodbye and watched, stunned, as he hopped on his motorcycle and raced off toward the carnage. She could not help but be amazed at him, a man who would willingly walk into hell for the sake of others, but again, she understood. Despite her well-manicured appearance, Kathryn possessed a rare inner strength, one that made her wish she could have hopped on the back of that bike and ridden toward the wreckage with him.

That day was unfathomably long for many, and things were no different for Kathryn. She spent hours trying to contact her other friends who were missing, especially her close friend Eric Eisenberg, but she had no luck. When the second World Trade Center Tower came down, she was certain Michael was just…gone. She knew he would have arrived right around that time, and after waiting for hours for word from him or about him, anything to let her know Michael was alive, she was certain she’d lost her heroic boyfriend.

How could he have survived?
she thought.
No one could survive that. But why Michael? Why’d he have to go down there? What do I do now? How do I tell his family? Oh God! He wanted to be buried in Ireland. How do I get his…how do I get him back there? We dropped his suit off at the dry cleaner’s. Maybe if I pick that up they can ship it with his bo…with him.

She was alone and devastated by these thoughts when the phone rang. It was 1:20 a.m., but she answered it automatically, giving no thought to who might be on the other end. “Hello?”

“Kath? It’s me, Michael.” His voice was faint due to a bad connection, but it was definitely him.

“Oh my God! Michael! I saw it on TV, and I thought you were—”

“No, I’m okay, but it’s bad down here—real bad.” Michael stopped for a moment to glance around him at the horror and chaos. “Listen, I can’t talk now, but I am going home as soon as I can get there. I’ll call you in the morning.”

There was something hollow, empty, and stoic about his voice, as if there was nothing behind it, nothing deeper than the vacant echo of the words themselves. Kathryn was worried about him, and she did not want to get off the phone, but she understood that he needed his space.

~ ♦ ~

The next morning, she met Michael at his apartment, hoping the sandwiches she’d brought might make him feel better and replenish his strength. “How are you this morning? Are you hurt?” she asked.

“I’m fine. I got a few scrapes and bruises, but nothin’ to worry about. I still can’t believe the carnage though.”

“I can’t imagine…I mean, just seeing it on TV, it’s…unbelievable!”

“Yeah, and that ain’t the half of it.” Falling into his customary Irish brogue, Michael explained, “If I hadn’t seen it myself, I don’t know if I’d believe it. Just absolute horror, complete destruction. I just kept thinkin’,
How does a plane do this much damage?
You wouldn’t believe how little is left of those buildings—steel and concrete, just turned to dust and rubble. It’s a fuckin’ crater. And there’s…well, there’s nobody left. I mean, I kept looking, and I was even going places that the actin’ supervisors said were off limits, but—”

“‘Acting supervisors’?” Kathryn interrupted.

“Yeah, Kath, actin’ supervisors.” He sighed, and his shoulders sagged slightly, “So many perished…so many good men, just gone, killed when the building fell. Somebody had to step up to fill the void. I can’t imagine what it must’ve been like for them. Hell, I don’t want to. It was so goddamned hot in there, in the rubble even. Just the heat from the fires…it was like standin’ next to a heated oven in the summertime when the oven door is left open—just so freakin’ hot! And the craters. There’re just these huge voids where concrete and steel had been. Me and the boys had to maneuver around ‘em. I just kept thinkin’,
A buildin’ was here just hours ago, and now it’s…’
All this while, we could barely breathe. All the heavy equipment mixed with the heat and the dust and shit in the air—even with oxygen masks, it was so hard to breathe. It was hard,
but we did rescue one civilian, and—
”

“Wait…you
found
someone?” Kathryn shook her head, still trying to process what she was being told.

“Yup.
He was on top of a mound of debris. One guy from Rescue 5 had to climb up and create a rope cradle for him and lower him down to us, and we had to keep him out of the void
.”

“Oh my God! I can’t believe they didn’t even mention that on the news.”

“Well, with everything going on…” Michael half-shrugged, and there was a distant look in his eyes. “
Yeah, I tried to keep him conscious, so I asked him his name. He was a big guy, Pasquale something, and his wife is pregnant with their first child…”

~ ♦ ~

“Why? Why can’t I just go into labor
now
?” Louise asked Brittany, standing at her side. “You lucky dog. You’ll never have to go through this crap!”

She scratched Brittany behind the ears absentmindedly. She took a moment to admire the decorations she’d just hung up for Halloween. Small pumpkins that matched the shape of her belly in her red maternity sweater and baskets of mums were now placed expertly around the front door of their home. She took a deep breath and looked around her. It felt good to be doing something normal for a change, and she relished every moment.

It really is a beautiful day,
she thought as she admired the changing leaves that clung stubbornly to the trees that lined Rivervale Road.
This is what life should be about!
The weather was perfect, with just a slight chill in the air, a crispness that just added to the slight buzz that seemed to carry on the breeze. After a moment, she snapped out of her reverie and decided to go back inside.

“C’mon, girl!” Louise snapped her fingers, and Brittany followed her inside. Once inside, Louise bent over and patted Brittany lovingly. “Look at you! You look so good in your Halloween bandana! How about some nice music to celebrate our fun day?”

Louise was just about to put on a spooky, silly Halloween DVD when she heard the phone ring. “It’s always something, isn’t it, Brittany?”

The terrier perked up her ears from her spot on the couch, as if to show solidarity, but she made no movement to get up.

“Hello?” Louise answered into the phone.

“Hello. I am looking for Pasquale Buzzelli. Is this the Mr. Buzzelli’s residence?” asked a voice Louise did not recognize.

The call from a stranger did not surprise Louise, as she’d grown quite accustomed to constant calls from people who just wanted to wish their family well. “Yes. I am his wife. Can I help you?”

“Well, I know this sounds crazy, but…I think my boyfriend saved your husband’s life…”

~ ♦ ~

Kathryn could not believe what Michael had just told her.
There were so many people in those buildings. How could they have only found one man?
Although it seemed unfathomable to her that so few had made it out of the Twin Towers, Kathryn realized over the next few weeks that they’d been lucky to find even one man alive.

The day after the attacks, Kathryn made a decision: She was not going to be the meek girlfriend who would stand idly by while others stepped willingly toward the unfathomable wreckage. She, too, would help in any way she possibly could, just as Michael had bravely done. She did not know exactly how, but she knew she had to do something. Her first stop was the Family Assistance Center at the Armory on Lexington Avenue (which eventually had to be moved to Pier 92 on the Hudson River) and began hanging missing person signs of friends, including one for Eric Eisenberg.

After a while with no sign of or word about Eric, Kathryn decided to fill out a missing person’s report. While she was doing so, she met a man from the Red Cross, Lou Pannera. Immediately, she knew what she needed to do. “Hi. My name is Kathryn Carey.” She introduced herself to Lou and shook his hand. “I really want to help with the rescue effort. Is there anything I can do?”