September 11, 2009
Jerrold believed in personal mementos and routines. He never left the house without the ring his wife Inez gave him for his 40th birthday, a 1976 silver dollar issued for the nation's bicentennial, and each day did one pushup for each year of his life and an extra for good luck.
On Sept. 9, Jerrold came to New York for what was supposed to have been a three-day business trip. The morning of Sept 11, 2001, Jerrold was to work on an insurance audit in a large, windowed conference room in the North Tower of the World Trade Center. Jerrold perished after the first plane struck the tower where he was working. His remains were identified Nov. 11, 2001.
Jerrold is survived by his wife, Inez, and their son, Robert. The 1976 silver dollar and the special birthday ring were also found and returned to his family.
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For nearly thirty years, he made salads and appetizers at the Russian Tea Room but lost his job when the restaurant renovated. In 1994, he began working at Windows on the World on the 106th and 107th floor of the North Tower in the World Trade Center.
On September 11, 2001, flight 11 collided with the North Tower, killing 73 restaurant staff members and 92 guests and destroying the restaurant. In 2006, some former Windows on the World Staff opened “Colors” as a tribute to their fallen colleagues. The eclectic menu is meant to represent the diversity among the staff at Windows on the World.
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Homer served in many operations while on active duty, to include Operations Desert Storm and Desert Shield and those in Somalia. He later joined the reserves and achieved the rank of major.
Homer continued his flying career by joining United Airlines in May 1995. On Sept 11 2001, he was the First Officer of flight 93 - the plane that was hijacked and later crashed into a reclaimed coal-mining area near Shanksville, PA. Flight recorders showed that the crew and passengers of Flight 93 took heroic action against the highjackers which ultimately prevented the plane from reaching its intended destination, believed to be the U.S. Capitol or the White House.
For his actions on board Flight 93, Homer received many awards and citations posthumously, including honorary membership in the historic Tuskegee Airmen, the Congress Of Racial Equality's Dr. Martin Luther King, Jr. Award, the Southern Christian Leadership Conference Drum Major for Justice Award, and the Westchester County Trailblazer Award.
Following his death, the LeRoy W. Homer, Jr Foundation was established to provide financial support and encouragement to young people, with an interest in aviation, to pursue professional flight instruction leading to certification as a private pilot. Tax deductible donations can be made at: http://www.leroywhomerjr.org/make-a-contribution/
LeRoy Homer is survived by his wife Melodie and their daughter Laurel, who was born in late 2000.
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July 11, 2009
"Chapter 1. I Have a Fancy Title, Steady Paycheck, and Good Benefits. Why Am I So Miserable?"
If that doesn't scream, GIVE THIS BOOK A CHANCE, I don't know what does.
Now, I don't have a fancy title but I do have a lovely cubicle , a steady paycheck, good benefits, and plenty of misery.
On the good days, I recall how tough times are and am satisfied in the knowledge that I am not facing a layoff. I know that I will be able to pay my mortgage, put food on the table, see the doctor, and probably even take a vacation within the next 12 months.
On the bad days, I realize that I am not choosing the position that grants me the ability to be thankful ... I am stuck there. When the reality that I am well and truly trapped returns to the forefront of my mind, I struggle to get out of bed so I can get to work on time, fight back tears at my desk (sometimes losing the battle), and wonder where I went so terribly wrong in life. I was once a bright, intelligent, high achieving, successful person that was excited about new information and challenges. How did I find myself in an environment where I feel like I have nothing to offer and can't manage to get anything right but helping everyone else get ahead?
I think I'd better get to reading...
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November 29, 2006
... convicted of involuntary manslaughter in a collision that killed an 84-year-old woman.He* was also was convicted today of leaving the scene of the February 18th accident. Prosecutors say he* was drunk when he caused the head-on collision.
Prosecutors say his* blood-alcohol level was nearly twice the legal limit after he was arrested.
He* faces up to 15 years in prison on the involuntary manslaughter charge and four years in prison for leaving the scene of the accident.
It's not going to bring her back, but at least for now it keeps everyone else that much safer
*Name removed
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Someone here was want to read about October 18, 2006
No more confusion. No more tremors. No more dementia.
My aunt's has life ended.
My uncle lost his wife years ago. They were each other's world, but she stopped recognizing him as her husband. Still, he devoted his life to taking care of her. A nursing home or some kind of institution was not the right answer for them. It was tried, but she broke a hip in one of those places ... he brought her home and saw to it himself that she was safely tended to.
He watched her slowly lose who she was and slip away from the life they had built together. The more of her he lost, the more of his world that crumbled. But still, he was the person there day in and day out ... cleaning the soiled sheets, dancing with her like a child to coax her into tasks, and making her still feel pretty, I'm sure.
Maybe this was the easiest part for her, to lie down and wait for death. Maybe this was the most peaceful thing she experienced through her struggle with ParkinsonÂ’s and Alzheimer's. I don't know. She did what any social animal would do ... she went away from the 'pack' and waited for what her unconscious brain knew was coming. Maybe that is peaceful? I can only hope that it was.
But for him, the real agony for is just beginning. A life without even the shell of his love is something I don't think he is prepared to lead. To me, no services mean no closure. I just hope his heart hurts only half as much as I imagine it could right now.
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September 11, 2006
Philip L. Parker
Philip L. Parker, 53, of Skillman, NJ, Senior Vice President of Aon Corporation, died Sept. 11, 2001, at the World Trade Center site. His office was on the 99th floor of the South Tower.
To so many, this is all they will ever know about Philip L. Parker. It is my job today - not just as a blogger but as a fellow American - to keep that from being commonplace and to honor him and his family with a fitting tribute.
Philip L. Parker emigrated to the United States from Canada in the early 1950s and became a naturalized U.S. citizen while still in high school. He is survived by considerable family both in the United States and Canada.
I never met him, personally, but I did meet him through the wonderful words that his friends, colleagues, former co-workers, and family have said about him since his tragic death. He was clearly a kind-hearted, loving, family man with a temendously generous spirit. He was a vastly passionate man with a love for his family, his green MG convertible, and music.
Portions of the posts on Legacy.com bring home just how lucky the world was to have Philip L. Parker for the time that we did:
"I worked with Phil for 2 years. Within minutes of meeting him, I knew he was a special man. Kindness, compasion and warmth were only a few of his qualities." -- Christina McCoy (Mt. Laurel, NJ )
"He had a wonderful sense of humor, a quick wit and he always made time to say hello and catch up." -- Patricia Barraza (New York, NY )
"He had a charming wit that he easily put to paper and pen. He made coming to work a joy. Heaven has an angel." -- Randi Seeley (Brooklyn, NY )
" Phil was always a joy to work with and compete against; a true gentleman and friend." -- William Hopkins (Annandale, NJ )
"It was a joy and a privilege to know Phil ... I am sure I am not alone in having had encouragement and support from Phil..." -- Fred Shearer (London, England)
"I had the pleasure of working with Phil as his Admin Assistant for six years. Phil was one of the most intelligent, articulate, honorable and generous men I have ever known. He was deeply committed to his family, friends and his work. He revered "quality" and strove to achieve it in all he did." -- Laura Petticrew (Philadelphia, PA )
Donations may be made in honor of Philip L. Parker to the VH1 Save the Music Foundation, Philip Parker Fund, 1515 Broadway NY 10010. The purpose of the foundation is to re-establish music programs in schools that lost funding to do so.
To Joan, his wife, and Stephanie, his daughter:
Thank you so much for sharing with the world a person whom you could have kept to yourself but that created so much joy for others. Thank you for letting us see your love for him and your personal loss so deeply. Please accept my deepest condolences.
We as a society are truly at a loss for having lost such a great man that day. Yet, our society will be forever indebted to him for having left behind such a tremendous legacy and having brought to so many people his gift of love and laughter.
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September 10, 2006
Before I left, I felt good about going. I was enthusiastic about being a pair of feet on the pavement to prove we have not forgotten - that I have not forgotten.
As I left, I felt tired and heavy. I had just learned about another death in the family. He died of cancer ... and I didn't even know he was sick.
Before I walked, I felt blessed. I had friends to keep me smiling and my mind on bigger and happier things. I live in a city where I can show my support in big ways for those I will never meet.
As I walked, I remembered the family and friends that this walk would mean something to. I thought of the people who are gone, that gave us a reason to walk.
Before going home, I sat in the Pentagon parking lot, listening to an operetic rendition of a song about America ... but I honestly cannot tell you which song it was ... and I thought of my now missing uncle.
He didn't die in an attack on America but, when he died, a little bit of real American history died with him. He came from nothing and made something of himself. He lived in a town formerly named for our lineage where he became the largest landowner the town had ever seen. He farmed. He farmed and he farmed and he farmed. He was Old MacDonald if I ever saw him.
He passed his trade along to his son, with whom he shared a name. I only met Junior the one time and his kids a bit younger than me, but he came from good stock and he seemed to carry on the traditions of his pa.
My uncle was good people. But they seem to be going fast.
I have only their essence to think of now ... the lessons they taught to those they knew ... their spirit that lives on through the family ... and the hope that generations will mimic what came before them to continue the America that we all came from.
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August 08, 2006
I implore you to vote in your local elections today.
Please
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July 22, 2006
And a few days ago, a girl I used to call my best friend lost her dad after a long struggle with lukemia.
It has been a tough year.
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July 18, 2006
No matter how many times I fly into town, make the trek to the house, sleep on the small, uncomfortable bed in the back bedroom, have an unhealthy breakfast in the kitchen, and open the window while I shower because there is no exhaust fan, it still feels like nothing has changed.
It isnÂ’t until I walk into the living room and it seems oddly quiet that I notice something is amiss. When I walk into the master bedroom to investigate, I remember what it is. The police scanner is turned off. It has been off since February. No one is listening to the local boys in blue or their trouble making counterparts.
The tall, important looking bed is scattered with my dadÂ’s papers and clothes. The back supporting pillows have been tossed aside, onto the floor. The folded blanket from the foot of the bed is in a pile on top of a chest nearby.
She is not propped up, resting in bed, crocheting something ornate. All of the signs of her Â… her essence Â… have been removed from her most personal and private place.
Then I know she is gone.
more...
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July 16, 2006
Four days was plenty long enough - I left with an eye twitch (which commonly happens)
The good news of all of this is that we are now officially headed for court and I have an approximate date by which I get to see this murderous ugly mug go behind bars with a sentence on his head
Full story below the fold more...
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June 28, 2006
The War Tapes screening has arrived!!
"ItÂ’s the first war movie filmed by soldiers themselves on the front lines in Iraq."
"These soldiers got the story the 2,700 embedded reporters never could."
Friday, June 30
11:40 2:25 5:10 7:35 9:50
E Street Cinema**
555 11th Street NW
Lincoln Square Building
Washington, DC 20004
(202) 452-7672
Get out there, go see the movie, and support the people who lived the story. It will only show for one week ... With that many showings, you've got no excuses, so DON'T MISS IT.
View the trailer here
**Entrance on E Street between 10th and 11th Street
100% metro accessible from the Blue, Green, Orange, Red and Yellow lines at the Metro Center and/or Gallery Place/Chinatown metro stops
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June 26, 2006
We never met but his was one of the first blogs I started reading when I started to get serious about putting on my blogger britches.
There is a great feeling of loss all across the country today.
Goodnight, Acidman
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June 12, 2006
My house has never before been such a disorganized terrible mass of chaos - none of the times I have moved can even approach this level of discord.
I have left many blog friends hanging in the ether of webspace without contact for months. Unbeknownst to them, they are often in my thoughts ... but my fingers never quite manage to communicate those thoughts in their direction.
Phone call after e-mail from family and friends go unanswered. None of them needs to take the neglect personally, but several if not many of them have. It is a growing mess I can't bring myself to clean up.
Graduation and my trip to NYC were a believable excuse for a while, but their effects have been much longer lasting ... and somewhat more detrimental...
In true mid-20s fashion, the dysfunction between my family and me is rampant, if not unbearable at times. During the later part of May, I saw all their worst qualities...
My brother, the epitome of insecurity and weakness, lashing out in anger at the hint of a challenge ... walking around on a pedestal of his own making, yet relying on the fragile world he created to validate the existence of his pedestal.
My father, second only to my brother in weakness of character, just broke my heart. Our communications have grown superficial at best. The belief that follow through or support will come from his direction is gone.
Spending two weeks with my mother almost destroyed any relationship we managed to build over the last 5 years. I saw in her the worst kind of selfishness and self-interest ... a fundamental lack of respect for others and an inability to understand the impact of her actions.
And before people go pointing fingers about being ungrateful for the money spent on my education ... I am thankful that my parents paid for college and helped me in part with graduate school ... but we all know the cliché, "money can't buy you love." Instead, I'd like to ask, where was the attempt to understand what I study, or why I studied it? I am the single, sole departure from medicine. Where is the curiosity about how I developed such a different passion? No one asks how I walked away from my previous passion so easily? Money will never answer those questions for me and could never keep me from asking them.
I suppose I am as lost and frustrated as you're supposed to be in your 20s, but when it comes to "finding myself" I believe I'm well found. I know what I believe in and I know why. I know where I want to go and I have learned many of the painful and necessary lessons from where I've been. I know that there is a world out there larger than myself, one that will keep spinning even if I fall off, that can still be influenced if I put my heart into making it a better place.
But when I am as secure as I about myself as I am, yet still find such little emotional support from my family - the people that are supposed to be your cheerleaders because they love you that much - how am I supposed to have faith that I will find it anywhere else in the world? How am I to believe that our society as a whole isn't made up of hopeless, weak, self-interested characters? Who else will do the right thing even when they must do it alone?
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May 18, 2006
wouldn've taken me a hundred years.
I can't imagine travelin these miles
without somebody like you here.
Chorus
Guess I knew all along, he'd take his angels home,
cuz he loves them to much to let them stay,
guess I knew all along, he'd take his angels home,
but I didn't know it was gonna be today.
I remember the places that we've been and the little things we used to do.
Looking back now thats when I began to realize that I'm alot like you
Guess I knew all along, he'd take his angels home,
cuz he loves them to much to let them stay,
guess I knew all along, he'd take his angels home,
but I didn't know it was gonna be today.
(interlude)
Friends and family help to pass the time,
while thumbing through pictures of you
feelin lonesome missin you and cryin,
but thats not what you'd want me to do.
Guess I knew all along, he'd take his angels home,
cuz he loves them to much to let them stay,
guess I knew all along, he'd take his angels home,
but I didn't know it was gonna be today.
guess I knew all along, he'd take his angels home,
but I didn't know it was gonna be today
No, I didn't know it was gonna be today.
I'll miss you tomorrow, Grammy. I know you would have wanted to be there more than anyone else.
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April 28, 2006
First, what good does it do for the local news to run the story once it is too late? I'm quite sure the local media was made aware of the battle before tonight, yet still they remained silent. They had plenty of opportunity to enlighten the local people otherwise unaware of the military circles ... you know, those people that live here and would have had the opportunity to show up at Fran's every Friday night to show their support, should they so choosen ... if only they had known ... but the media did not do this; just tell me why.
Second, why did the media let Hilton tell their side of the story (the accusation that rent & utilities have not been paid for four months without justification) but only aired a tiny blurb from Hal? The only thing the public saw from the Fran O'Brien's side was Hal saying, "Not only have they said no, but they said heck no - get out by Monday." I don't think anyone in their right mind will defend that as balanced news coverage.
But I am only saying good night to Fran O'Brien's and their tradition of support for wounded veterans tonight. I will not say good bye ... I have faith that Fran's will come back and the tradition will continue. It is only a matter of time.
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April 13, 2006
I got an e-mail this morning from the girl I labeled "Ms. Bed Bunny" in yesterday's post. Who knew she was actually a reader? In her e-mail she let me know that she had never showered at my house but was both incredibly and rediculously cool about the whole situation.
I have e-mailed her an apology for the misdirected rant but I'd also like to publicly apologize and retract my statements.
Looks like its crow for dinner tonight ... Mmm Mmm
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March 11, 2006
Listen up, Buddy. This isn't funny anymore. Ha, ha, you had your little fun trying to dump a bunch of emotionally difficult crap in my life all at once, but you're taking the joke just a little bit to far now.
You won't defeat me. You can pull your little strings and turn all of my concerns about the near future into reality, but it will be for not. You see, I know that your game will continue - your stunts are predictable. I am prepared for everything you are waiting to put in my way.
I'm asking you nicely here - please, just cut this shit out so we can all get on with our lives. I'd venture to say it would be in your best interest to play nice here ... because, at this point, you're just pissing me off and that is not a good place to be in relation to my foot.
So, how about you cut the shit and I won't hunt you down and kick your ass ... ok?
Sincerely,
Sick and Tired of Your Games
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February 26, 2006
But even in death there is still a silver lining, of sorts ... I suppose ... In some sick and morbid way, I'm kind of glad that my grandmother died the way she did - she died being who she was - a helper, a doer, and one stubborn lady.
You see, my grandmother was not your typical lady. Her husband died of cancer over 40 years ago, leaving her to raise 3 kids on her own. After that she designed and built the house she lived in for the rest of her life. She was a school teacher with two Masters Degrees and a world traveler that most military personnel couldn't hold a candle to. There are places that today even young men should be careful about traveling to that she brazenly went to over the last 25 years, even as an elderly woman. She followed protocol and custom, always learning about cultures around the world - I found no less than 5 foreign language dictionaries on just one of her bookshelves. She was a ground breaking woman that did what she thought was right, regardless of how difficult it might be.
Even in her death, she will continue to push the limits of what society has accepted as normal. This time, she will be the center of creating a new local legal precedent. The case brought against the other driver will be the first in the county to be prosecuted under new, stricter, and more lengthy maximum punishments. As tough as it will be, I'm am glad that my grandmother, such a strong woman in life, will continue to help her fellow man through her death.
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Jesus H, I still can't believe that this is a true story, all of it. I'm so sorry that you had to lose her this way.67 queries taking 0.0659 seconds, 195 records returned.
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