Two Short Speeches at Darien’s 9/11 Memorial Observance

Two speeches were delivered at Darien’s 9/11 memorial observance Thursday morning: Monuments and Ceremonies Commission member Nanci Natale and First Selectman Jon Zagrodzky each spoke.

Here are the full texts of each speech, as prepared:

Zagrodzky’s Speech

In July this summer, I spent the better part of a day at the 9/11 Memorial and
Museum in New York City. I’d like to take a few minutes and tell you about
that visit.

The first thing that struck me upon arriving was how much it resembled just
a city park. Benches and landscaping. Food vendors. Bicycles and dogs
everywhere. Stroll a little further, though, and you come across those two
giant square pools, calm and serene like the rest of the park, but the site of
unimaginable death and destruction 24 years earlier.

The generational gap was all too apparent. While kids ran and played,
unaware of what had transpired, those old enough to remember gazed
down into the void where water cascades out of sight, their hands on the
chilled bronze railings etched with the names of victims. As architects of the
memorial pools called it, “absence made visible.”

Time passes – you are at least approaching 40 if you have a clear memory
of those awful events. Hard to believe that much time has passed. For
many of us, it was yesterday.

The museum itself is largely underground, with much of it carved out of the
building foundations. Very quickly the memories come flooding back,
sometimes in your face, other times with a gentle reminder.

The one that hit me first was a massive wall covered with 2,983 tiles, each representing a
victim. Designed by the artist Spencer Finch, each tile is a singular and
unique shade of blue, meant to capture the memories of how blue the sky
was on that beautiful morning.

Other exhibits were more stark. Like the crushed helmets of firefighters who
lost their lives, an ash-covered seatbelt from one of the planes, a fire truck
burned and melted on one side, a segment of the antenna from the North
Tower.

The hardest one for me was an audio exhibit, a continuous loop of
voicemail messages left by individuals trapped in the towers or on planes,
all of whom would be dead a few minutes later.

“Baby, you have to listen to me carefully. I’m on a plane that’s been
hijacked. I want to tell you that I love you. Please tell my children that I love
them very much. And I’m so sorry baby. I don’t know what to say. There’s
three guys, they’ve hijacked the plane … we’re turned around and I heard
that there’s planes that have been flown into the World Trade Center. I
hope to see your face again, baby. I love you. Bye.”

Once back outside, I saw some of New York’s finest, stationed at the park
for security. I told them who I was and asked what they thought of that
police duty assignment. Each one counted it as a privilege, thankful for the
opportunity.

Whether it was providing directions, answering questions, or
standing watch over someone touching the engraved name of a loved one,
those officers appreciated being there, and being part of our effort to keep
and hold the memory of that day.

The story of 9/11 is two-sided: tragedy and resilience, pain and healing,
loss and recovery. As the memory of that time fades, the park and museum
exhibits do an excellent job of capturing the horror of those attacks. But
they also remind you of how the nation united to help those in need, and to
face the challenges that brought us to that point.

As you reflect on that day, whether you have vivid recollections of it or not,
take some time to remind yourself that whatever your troubles, you can
persevere. And if you see such troubles in others, reach out and lend a
hand. When we take care of ourselves, and do the same for those around
us, we can endure any difficulty. 9/11 showed us the way.
Thank you.

Natale’s Speech

On Monday, Sept. 10, 2001, we all woke to a sunny start to our week — our routine was going to work, going to school, doing errands, staying home — normal life in America,

Then came Tuesday, and our world as we knew it changed forever. There was no more normal routine — a new version would come later — there was shock, disbelief, misery and a form of anger at these brazen acts. Were we at war, and no one told us?

These were four coordinated terrorist attacks on our beautiful country, killing almost 3,000 people, including many residents of Darien. The two towers, the Pentagon and Fight 93 in Pennsylvania that was aborted when brave heroes on board the plane took over, and they crashed in a field killing all on board.

I was working at GE Asset Management at the timem and the company new many of the financial advisers with offices in the two towers who would regularly be guests with our portfolio managers and senior executives. Beyond our neighbors here in Darienm we new these people, worked with them, laughed with the, shared time and space with them. And they were just gone.

Our incredible emergency response teams — police, fire, ER — they were there to respond. Out of their comfort zone — out of the normal — they responded. Ambulances lined up to help with the injured — leaving empty, as there was no one for them to help.

But people helped. Our first responders were the heroes of that day and long days after. Even the service dogs helped — collapsing exhausted wherever they could — little booties on their feet to protect them from the heat and debris as they continued searching for any signs of life — finding none.

We watched the horror from our TV screens as dust and debris covered people walking en masse from the towers, watching people choosing to jump to their deaths over a fiery death inside the buildings — then watching in dismay as the towers fell, almost sighing to the ground, and then they too were gone.

I’m sure many vividly recall the three firefighters who put our flag up as a marker to people everywhere — we were Americans, and though stunnedm we would not let this destroy us.

As years, now decades, go by, people forget — but those of us who witnessed this do not forget, and it’s our job to remember those we lost, and honor those who helped — firemen, policemen, ER personnel, ambulance drivers and people who showed up to do what they could — simple gestures to ease suffering in whatever way they could. And so today we are here — not to relive the pain, but to remember.

[Moment of silence to mark the time of the first attack in New York City]

I want to take a moment for a special thank-you to Josh Doying, the [then] teenager who conceived, funded and built the beautiful monument to 9/11 that stands behind me. We ask that you lay your eroses theree in respect and honor for those we are here to commemorate and remember.

Thank you to all who attended today.