Brian J. Jordan - The Ground Zero Cross

THE
GROUND
ZERO
CROSS

BRIAN J. JORDAN, OFM

Copyright 2017 by Brian J. Jordan, OFM.

Library of Congress Control Number: 2017906458

ISBN: Hardcover 978-1-5434-1859-0

Softcover 978-1-5434-1858-3

eBook 978-1-5434-1857-6

All rights reserved. No part of this book may be reproduced or transmitted
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Copyright 2015 Catholic News Service Origins CNS Documentary Service Reprinted with permission of CNS.

This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places and incidents either are the
product of the authors imagination or are used fictitiously, and any resemblance
to any actual persons, living or dead, events, or locales is entirely coincidental.

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Rev. date: 05/20/2017

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CONTENTS

Chapter 6Origin And History Of The Cross
At The World Trade Cen ter

This book is to dedicate d to:

THE UNION CONSTRUCTION WORKERS WHO SERVED AT GROUND ZERO THAT WAS EIGHTY PERCENT OF THE RECOVERY WORKFORCE

Special Remembrance of Edward. J. Malloy, past president of the New York City Building Construction and Trades Council

NEW YORK CITY POLICE DEPARTMENT; FIRE DEPARTMENT OF NEW YORK CITY; OFFICE OF EMERGENCY MANAGEMENT OF NYC AND THE PORT AUTHORITY POLICE DEPARTMENT

Special Remembrance of Richard Sheirer, a dedicated public servant for many years

FAMILY MEMBERS OF THE VICTIMS OF 9/11 AT THE WORLD TRADE CENTER WHO HELPED SAVE THE GROUND ZERO CROSS

Immense Gratitude To Jane Pollicino

I would like to thank the following people who were extremely influential on the writing and publication of this book. First, my parents Gerard and Eileen Jordanwho not only cooperated with Gods plan of Creation to bring me into the worldbut also taught me how to pray and to fight for worthy ca uses.

For the friars of Holy Name Province of the Order of Friar Minor and especially for our past provincial, John Felice, O.F.M, who graciously led us through the horror and pain in the aftermath of 9/11. He was the spiritual anchor that kept our Franciscan friars together. For Kevin Tortorelli, O.F.M., who meticulously proofread this manuscript and participated in the Final Blessing of the Cross into the National 9/11 Memorial Museum on July 23, 2011.

For the well-known authors, Peter Quinn and Terry Golway. Their expertise and publication experience were generously shared and proved to be invaluable. Both Peter and Terry influenced this middle-aged Irishman to write with purpose and firm convic tion.

For my colleagues at St. Francis College, Brooklyn, Professors Francis Greene and Gregory Tague. Their helpful comments were a guiding light for the development of this manuscript. Victoria Prestia, a St. Francis College graduate, edited and professionally arranged this manuscript to be in excellent shape and reader frie ndly.

For the friars of Immaculate Conception Province of the Order of Friars Minor especially Patrick Boyle, O.F.M., Orlando Ruiz, O.F.M., and Joaquin Mejia, O.F.M., with whom I live in fraternity in Our Lady of Peace Friary in Gowanus, Brooklyn. I am grateful to them for their unswerving fraternal support, patience with my writers block and compassionate understanding when I had an occasional Dark Night of the Soul. They were real brothers in Our Holy Father St. Francis of As sisi!

Finally, for all my brothers and sisters who are union construction workers in the greater New York City area! I am truly inspired by your patriotism, prayer and professionalism. I hope and pray that someday the whole world will know that you met and overcame one of the greatest challenges in contemporary history of New York City. In late September, 2001, you were given a mandate for the demolition and cleanup of Ground Zero within a certain period of time that most experts considered this impossible. Not only did you complete this mandate under budget and well before the time allotted but you did this under extremely delicate conditions without a single fatality nor serious injury during those nine months. I respectfully request that the keepers of the New York City archives include this unique legacy in present and future history books. Do not forget the amazing contribution of union construction workers at Ground Zero!

CHAPTER
The Cross September 11, 2001 February 14, 2002

History, Stephen said, is a nightmare where I am trying to awake from.

- James Joyce, Uly sses .

On the morning of September 11, 2001, the Franciscan friars of St. Francis of Assisi Parish on 135 W. 31 st St. in Midtown Manhattan of which I, Brian Jordan, am a part of, began Morning Prayer at 8:10 AM in the lower church of the parish. Laypeople and friars prayed together the Liturgy of the Hours which lasted about ten minutes. Immediately after prayers, my fellow friar, Father Mychal Judge, who was seated in the same pew as I was, sprang up with his ever present smile and said to me, Hey Brian, have a good day. See you later! That was the last I ever saw Mychal Judge, my good friend and mentor. I first met him when I was a junior at Siena College, Loudonville, New York in early September, 1976 twenty five years later, nearly to the day, on September, 2001, I said goodbye to him forever and did not even realize it until later that day. Mychal went to his room to take care of his head cold while I went on a hospital call up in Washington Heights, Manhattan. Like the rest of New York City, none of us expected what was about to happen within the next few h ours.

After attending to a child from the Dominican Republic who received a life-saving heart surgery at New York Presbyterian Hospital through the generous assistance of Governor George Pataki, New York State Surgeon General, Dr. Antonia Novello MD first informed me that both Towers were hit by airplanes as was the Pentagon. Three planes in three key locations is more than a coincidence, I said to myself. I then bolted through the doors and attempted to get downtown by subway. I discovered that subway service was suspended in Manhattan. Even though I was a marathoner, I was not about to run in my Franciscan habit and in sandals from 168 th St. back to St. Francis of Assisi. I decided to take a cab but there were no yellow cabs to be found. I managed to share one of the livery cabs around the hospital with a young Latina mother who was also trying to get downtown (she was trying to get to her daughter who was a sophomore in a gifted West Side high school). While we were journeying down Broadway, the driver put on radio channel WINS 1010. Radio reporter John Montone graphically and dramatically described the collapse of both Towers. Tower II, the second to be hit, was the first to go down at 9:58 AM. Tower I, the first to be hit, was the second to go down at 10:28 AM. The driver, young mother and I were equally devastated by this stark revelation. How could the Towers come down so quickly? We thought they were invincible. I will never forget the words, the syntax, and the emotion in John Montones voice that morning of September 11, 2001 (henceforth, this date will be called 9/11). I am not sure whether I should thank him or hug him. Perhaps both? Someday, I will.

At Broadway and W.72 nd St., traffic came to a halt. The traffic lights were not working and crosstown traffic was heavy. I could not wait any longer. I paid my fare and jumped out of the car. I walked south on Broadway, on the left-hand side. All I saw were dazed and confused pedestrians walking north either trying to get to their destinations or fleeing from the World Trade Center. Roughly one third were covered in dust, partially or completely. All of a sudden, a strange realization came over me. At Broadway and W. 59 th St., it seemed like I was the only person walking south towards the World Trade Center. To this day, this memory remains as one of the eeriest and loneliest moments of my entire life. It was not until W. 44 th St. that I met another person walking briefly southward, then a left for the Port Authority Terminal. I turned south on 7 th Ave. and finally made it back to my office, the Franciscan Immigration Center, at St Francis. The whole church was filled with people frightened because they could not get home. All public transportation was suspended. My brother friars gave the people water, use of the bathroom, and a few welcoming words no one knew what the next few hours would b ring.