9/11 anniversary

Families Remember the Personal Loss of 9/11

By Gretchen R. Crowe
HERALD Staff Writer
(From the Issue of 9/7/06)

“The first thing you ask is how can something like this happen?”
Five years later, those are still the words of Thomas Heidenberger, husband of Michele, a senior flight attendant on American Airlines Flight 77 when it crashed into the western side of the Pentagon on Sept. 11, 2001.
As painful as it can be, talking about the attacks and the lives lost “needs to be done,” Thomas said. “It’s not so much about Michele, it’s not so much about me ... . It’s about what it did to us as a country.”
In the coming days, the nation will take its annual collective moment of silence, remembering the lives lost at the hands of terrorists in New York, Washington and Pennsylvania. For five years, family members and victims have dealt with their losses in different ways.
Thomas said that his faith “allowed me in many respects to go on, to continue.
“Religiously, I really haven’t changed that much,” he said. “As a human being I’ve changed.” Thomas said he has learned to channel his negative feelings and turn them into something more positive — and ultimately more manageable.
Thomas was raised Catholic and attended Catholic schools, but said it was Michele who anchored the family in its Catholic faith.
“She was always the one who schlepped us to Mass and she was instrumental in getting the kids a Catholic education,” he said.
The Heidenbergers have two children, a now 25-year-old daughter and 19-year-old son, who was only 14 when Michele died. Both children currently attend Jesuit colleges, a feat that Thomas attributes to his late wife’s example.
On Monday, the family will celebrate the anniversary of Sept. 11 much like they have for past four years, with Mass at Blessed Sacrament Church in Chevy Chase, Md., followed by a memorial service.
The Pentagon will offer its own memorial service on Monday, as it, too, has been doing each year. The service will be multi-faith and open only to the Pentagon community.
For those Pentagon employees who wish to pay a quiet tribute to friends and colleagues who died in the attacks, the Pentagon chapel, which has at its front a circular “United in Memory” stained-glass window, is open. Outside the small chapel sits the America’s Heroes Memorial, a small alcove that opened in May 2002 to remember those who lost their lives. Inside the small niche is a list of “the lost and missing,” a book of photos and biographies, and quotes from President George Bush and Secretary of Defense Donald Rumsfeld. On the left wall hangs a Purple Heart medal, given to all military men and women who died; on the right, a Defense of Freedom medal, given to all civilian men and women who died.
Eddie Dillard received the Defense of Freedom medal. Like Michele, Eddie was aboard Flight 77 when it was hijacked. Rosemary, his wife of 15 years, is now vice president of the Pentagon Memorial Fund, which supports a nearly 2-acre park memorial scheduled for completion in 2008.
“Initially I was angry — very, very angry,” said Rosemary, who kept asking God how He could do this to her. Relying on time, friends and faith, Rosemary eventually realized that the focus shouldn’t be on her personal loss.
“It wasn’t about me. It was about my husband, and that’s what I’ve worked on for the past five years.”
Only one slab, charred by smoke and fire, remains on the outside of the Pentagon, a visual reminder of the partial collapse of the formidable building, which workers worked tirelessly to rebuild by Sept. 11, 2002. This powerful salute pays tribute to the nearly 200 lives lost, both on the plane and sitting at their desks on a typical Tuesday morning.
John Yates, a security manager for an Army staff agency, was one of those employees — one who turned out to be lucky. A few minutes before Flight 77 hit the building, Yates had been in another work station watching coverage of the attacks in New York. He called his wife of 16 months, who jokingly asked him to work for the rest of the day underneath his desk. A few minutes later, Yates remembers hearing a deafening explosion and a seeing a ball of fire before he was thrown through the air. Struggling to breathe, Yates crawled through thick smoke and obliterated furniture, following voices and relying on his knowledge of the layout of the building to make his escape.
“I just crawled until I ran headfirst into a wall.” Yates made a series of lefts and rights until he made it into the inner rings of the building and eventually the central courtyard, the only one of a group of five people around him to survive the attack.
“For a long time I asked why,” he said.
Yates survived, but not undamaged. More than 38 percent of his body was burned, in almost every place imaginable. His sweat glands were burned off, leaving him unable to regulate his body temperature. He spent two-and-a-half months in the hospital. His recovery continues to this day.
At the time, “I had no concept of what had happened, really,” he said, and no concept of how badly he was injured until he noticed flesh hanging off of his fingers. A doctor later estimated the temperature in the room to be 1,800 degrees.
Yates said he will spend the five-year anniversary of Sept. 11 with his family, remembering the friends and co-workers who lost their lives. He still thinks of them, still talks about them.
“Some people I had known for 10 years, some I had known for three months … but they’re still all my friends,” he said.
Yates occasionally comes to the Pentagon chapel to honor and give thanks for those friends. “This is a special place for me. … I look and I remember … pray and reminisce.”
Yates said he and his wife look at each day as a gift.
“At some point each day I give a silent thanks to God for sparing me that day,” he said. “It’s something that happened to us and it will be with us forever, but it’s not who we are. The reason I’m still here is to tell my story … so that people will not forget.”

Gretchen R. Crowe can be reached at gcrowe@catholicherald.com.