Hello everyone.
Each year as the September 11th anniversary approaches I notice myself keeping that emotional door shut and not giving it as much thought as maybe I need to. And each year there is something a day or two before that breaks that door wide open. It can be a
That evening, having made that long walk from the Brooklyn Bridge to the southern part of the site I looked at the wreckage I knew that Michael could not have survived that. One of my first thoughts was, he loved me so much. Why? What was it about me that he loved so much? So often when he was happy about something that I had either accomplished or experienced he would say, “Uncle Joe, that’s awesome!” I thought back on him saying that so often and I thought to myself, I don’t know why he
That became a calling for me, and it still is. When I feel like I am making an impact, sometimes in the front of a funeral home trying to offer someone support, I hear those words, I hear Michael saying, “Uncle
Death is certainly sad and tough on us, often emotionally crippling, and this coming week is a very sad time in our part of the world. We grieve personally and we grieve collectively for all of the good people who lost their lives that day and in the years since to





(Photos: Michael at my Police Academy graduation, 11 years old. Michael and his sister Karen on the porch of the house they grew up in on Avenue L. See his hand on my back. Michael on the beach, a photo I took on July 15, 2001 when Michael and my son Joe and I were at the beach, Michael hugging his dad at his FDNY graduation)