9/11 Tribute: Remembering Rick Rescorla

Moments after the first airliner slammed into the North Tower, Rick Rescorla threw on his suit jacket, and left his office on the 44th floor of 2 World rick_rescolaTrade Center, bullhorn, walkie-talkie and cell phone in hand. It was shortly after 8:46 a.m. on Sept. 11, 2001, and an otherwise cloudless sky was filling with thick black smoke that now poured from the North Tower. The Port Authority of New York, the World Trade Center’s owner and operator, urged South Tower occupants to stay at their desks – an urging Rescorla promptly cast aside.

One could argue that Rescorla’s life had led to this point in time. Originally from the seaport town of Hayle, Cornwall, England, he’d spent his life leading and serving – as a British paratrooper, a military intelligence officer in Cyprus, a commando in Rhodesia, and a detective for Scotland Yard’s famous “Flying Squad”.

In 1963, he took the advice of his best friend Dan Hill and came to the United States. He attended basic training, applied to and later graduated from Officer Candidate School in Fort Benning, Ga., before heading overseas again – this time as an officer in the U.S. Army, where he fought in the legendary Battle of Ia Drang, his bravery and courage earning him the nickname of “Hard Core.”

A soldier of honor to be certain, he was also a man of great humor and striking intellect, undying compassion and loyalty, Rescorla held dying soldiers in his arms, comforting them, telling them they’d be fine, no matter their condition. He sang songs he’d learned as a young boy in his native town of Hayle, his baritone voice bringing a sense of reassurance when all hope seemed lost in that valley in Vietnam. And he vowed to never leave a soldier behind.

When his deployment was over, Rescorla returned to the U.S., and became an American citizen. He believed that America was the place where anyone could accomplish anything they wanted to. He was only 28 years old, but his character was already admired by all who knew him. For Rescorla, there was no other way to live, but with honor. Such was the life he continued to create for himself over the next 30 years.

In 1984, Rescorla was hired as director of security by Dean Witter Securities, where he implemented various safeguards, including evacuation plans and drills. His security staff numbered almost 200, and each man was expected to dress in a suit and tie. Rescorla pulled money from his own pocket for those who couldn’t afford to abide by the dress code. Similarly, he rewarded those for a job well done – again, out of his own pocket.

When Pan Am flight 103 was bombed, his concerns centered on the safety of the employees. He warned the Port Authority that radical Islam would now set its sights on the United States of America, and the World Trade Center would be the perfect target. But his warnings were ignored, even after the 1993 bombing that left six people dead.

He knew another hit would come, and predicted it would come from the air. Again, his warnings were left unheeded.

In 1998, Dean Witter merged with Morgan Stanley and Rescorla was promoted to vice president of security. While the Port Authority seemed to take a cavalier attitude where the threat of terrorism was concerned, Morgan Stanley did not, allowing Rescorla to develop and execute his own evacuation training. Under his direction, two guards would patrol each of the 21 floors occupied by the firm. Employees also served as fire marshals. Visitors were not allowed unless accompanied by a Morgan Stanley escort. Deliveries were not brought into the office until they’d been inspected on the ground floor. The treads of the stairwell steps were marked with fluorescent tape. Mandatory – and unannounced – evacuation drills began immediately.

That same year, Rescorla met the love of his life, Susan, who he married in February of 1999. Although he’d been a highly decorated officer, he rarely talked about his days in the military. He focused on his life with Susan, and their plans and goals for the future. They even discussed his retirement.

But on that September morning in 2001, fate had other plans.

Rescorla was already evacuating his people when he called Dan Hill. Both suspected the first hit had been the act of terrorists. At one point, Rescorla briefly broke away from their conversation. Dan heard him singing again, just as he had in Vietnam:

Men of Cornwall, stand ye ready;

It cannot be ever said ye

For the battle were not ready;

Stand and never yield!

By 9:03 a.m., under Rescorla’s leadership, many of his people had gotten out of the tower – or were at least on their way down – when United Airlines Flight 175 took a sharp left turn in the lower Manhattan sky and plowed into 2 World Trade Center, causing it to sway from side to side like a piece of tin foil on impact. As the building snapped back to vertical, people made a run for the nearest stairwell. It was filled with smoke and panic was setting in. The comforting sound of Rescorla’s voice over his bullhorn, urging them to be calm – there was another staircase. Once he verified that the second stairwell was clear, he reminded everyone to follow what they’d practiced during countless prior drills – to stay calm, get a partner, and move down stairs and out of the building as quickly as possible. As they streamed into the stairwell, Rescorla’s voice belted out the songs he’d sung many times before. Some often wondered why he was always singing. Today, they were grateful to hear his familiar baritone voice belting out, “God Bless America.”

Shortly after, Rescorla paused momentarily to call his bride, who was sobbing almost uncontrollably.

His voice was confident and comforting. “I have to get all of my people out, and if something happens to me, I want you to know you made my life.”

The call had been short, but long enough for Susan to hear a certain finality in his voice just before the line went dead.

Dan Hill reached Rescorla one more time, pleading with him to get out of the building. When the second plane hit, any notion that this had been an accident was shattered. The United States of America was under attack.

“I’ve got people to take care of,” he said, asking his best friend to call Susan and calm her down. The connection was lost when the line went dead again.

Rescorla persisted in evacuating the building as the heat continued to build in the stair well. But he never removed his jacket. Never quit singing. And never quit comforting all who were weary, scared, tired and without hope.

“Today is a day to be proud to be an American, tomorrow the world will be looking at you,” he said.

Fellow co-workers pleaded with him to leave the tower. He obliged them all, adding but one condition:

I’ll get out – after I’m sure everyone else is out.

Rescorla headed back up the stairwell with his deputy Wesley Mercer and two security guards. He may not have talked much about his days as a soldier, but in his heart, he was still a warrior, willing to sacrifice his own life if it meant no one would be left behind. Rescorla was continuing his ascent in the stairwell at 9:59 a.m., when 2 World Trade Center imploded.

Rick Rescorla’s remains were never located. But 10 years later, he lives on in the hearts of all who remember him. We will never forget.

Author’s note: The life of Rick Rescorla has been written about in “We were Soldiers Once… and Young”, by Gen. Hal Moore and Joseph Galloway; “Heart of a Soldier”, by James B. Stewart;  and “Touched by a Hero”, the just-released journal written by his widow, Susan Rescorla. The opera, “Heart of a Soldier”, based on the book by the same name, opened at War Memorial Opera House in San Francisco on Sept. 10, 2011.  —Beth Underwood

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9/11 Tribute: Remembering Louis Inghilterra

September 11, 2001 was moving day for Louis Steven Inghilterra and his
family. With renovations to their home in the community of Chappaqua, NY, now complete, Louis left the family’s apartment in Ossining for the last time and headed for his office on the 95th flolouis_inghilterraor of 2 World Trade Center.

Senior vice President and Treasurer of Fiduciary Trust Company, it probably goes without saying that Louis was a man with an eye for detail, not only at work but at home, as well, where he’d taken a hands-on approach to the remodeling. A lover of carpentry, he built bookshelves and refurbished armoires while scrutinizing final trim work.

But there was much more to Louis Inghilterra than his job or attention to detail. Certainly his self-made success was a source of great pride. Nevertheless, he spoke to his wife Diane about leaving the corporate world behind to strike out on his own.

A guitar and bass player since his teenage years – whether on stage (he played in nightclubs and at weddings during college) or at home – he loved listening to jazz and classic rock, collected guitars and records and revered Frank Zappa.

He was also a devoted father to his 2-year-old son Sam, who loved to listen to his father read and play music. His co-workers referred to him as an achiever and teacher who inspired a spirit of excellence at work as well as in his own life and the lives of his family and friends.

I can only presume that he’d left for work with grand thoughts for his future with Diane and Sam in their newly renovated home. He’d called Diane shortly before 8:46 a.m., to see if the movers had arrived. He watched as the first airliner struck One World Trade Center and relayed what had happened, but immediately apologized for telling her. He didn’t want her to be worried. There was a lot of noise in the background, then silence as the phone went out.

Louis Steven Inghilterra’s life ended that day at the age of 45. It is my hope that his story lives on, that his family knows Americans meant what they said eight years ago: We will never forget.

Remembering Louis has been written for Project 2996, a tribute to the victims of 9/11.  Dale Challener Roe initiated the project several years ago, relying on the help of thousands of bloggers to remember the lives of each person killed on that day.

I never met Louis, so I relied on research to learn more about him. BlogMeister and The Reluctant Prophet wrote about Louis in 2006. The New York Times published a short profile on him in 2002. A tribute written by his wife and posted on the website of Fiduciary Trust no longer exists. More recent coverage focuses on the memorial in his hometown of New Castle, which was dedicated in 2008.

Although his name surfaced hundreds of times, I didn’t uncover anything necessarily new – only his name on countless memorials. I wish I could have learned more. At the end of the day, it occurs to me that I do, in fact, now  have a sense of who he must have been – and could have been – had his life not been taken on that dark day in American history. I will remember you, Louis, and your family this Friday, Sept. 11, 2009, and suspect I always will.

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Hot off the presses!

I love a good story, don’t you? Especially when I can read it inside of 20 minutes or less. Even more so when I learn something new, improve my overall outlook, or catch a wave of inspiration. If you could use a little more of all of the above, I invite you to check out the first Kindle publication from 26 Letter Press:

American Grit: Anthology of Timeless Poems and Stories that Shaped a Nation’s Character

COVER1 American GritThe first thing I noticed when I started exploring the public domain was the fact that there must be a blue zillion books to choose from. Well maybe not a blue zillion, but you get the point. There are a lot of books in the public domain, which means there are plenty of authors—and subjects—to pick from. So how does one decide where to start?

For me, this first choice was easy. As a avid student of American History, my first publication had to contain stories of life in America. I found some of those stories in two books. One is a collection of poems collected by Brander Matthews. The other is a collection of short stories by Lawton B. Evans. For good measure, I included the Declaration of Independence, the US Constitution and Bill of Rights, and Patrick Henry’s “Give me Liberty” speech.

Some of these stories will be familiar, even if you haven’t heard them in years—stories of Nathan Hale or Sergeant York, Henry Clay or Lewis and Clark. Others may be new to you—the Moore boys and General Schuyler’s Daughter. These aren’t just stories you’ll enjoy, you’ll be able to share with your children and grandchildren.

To me, these are the true gifts of the past—stories of individual greatness; of courage and faith, ingenuity and integrity. They remind us that while we have little control over our surroundings, we are in full control of our responses. Ultimately, it’s our character as individuals that shapes the greater character of our communities, the nation and even the future itself.

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