On Monday morning, just as every Sept. 11 before it since 2002, I reached out to my best friend, Nick, to impart a few words of consolation and encouragement.
“Rest in Peace, Lt. Andy Desperito. Here if you need anything brother,” I texted.
Nick’s beloved uncle, City Fire officer Andrew Desperito, 43, father of three young children at the time, sacrificed his life in service of others at the World Trade Center on that heinous Tuesday morning.
And with each passing year, it doesn’t get any easier for those left behind to collect the pieces of shattered lives.
“…still running through my head non-stop,” Nick replied less than a minute later. “16 years. Still feels like yesterday.”
According to a New York Times report, Desperito stayed behind helping victims in One World Trade Center, even after Two World Trade Center had collapsed.
Desperito and the men of Engine Co. 1 were on the 23rd Floor of One World Trade Center when he and the Bravest he was leading heard a roar and were told over their department radios that the other building had come down.
The men heeded the call and headed outside, but Desperito stopped and ordered them ahead after coming across a woman having trouble making her escape.
“During his final hours, Lt. Desperito escorted a woman to safety from the north tower of the World Trade Center, and then ran back inside to search for others,” The Times reporter wrote in a profile of Desperito published on March 8, 2003.
Then, floor after floor, as if a mighty mythical hand were slowly pounding it into the soil below with a hellish hammer, One World Trade Center gave way. And Andy Desperito, who gave up everything for strangers, perished in its collapse.
“I always knew he was a hero,” said his wife, Laura. “He was incredible, and I’m drawing my strength from him.”
I’ll never forget Uncle Andy’s wake in Patchogue. I’ll never forget him in that casket, in his crisp lieutenant’s garb. I’ll never forget the faces of his children – Nicole, Anthony, and David. The funeral home took on a dark azure hue thanks to the sea of dress blues inside the chapel; literally thousands of firefighters came to pay respect to a fallen brother. I’ll never forget that I couldn’t even begin to fathom how many of these events these same faces would feel duty bound to attend over the next few weeks.
The FDNY lost 343 members on Sept. 11, 2001.
Andy Desperito was a cop in this city for three years before making the move to the Fire Department, which he served with distinction for 14 years.
He was a man who I respected and admired just as much for the way he lived as the way he left us. That’s why 16 years ago I made a quiet, solemn promise to myself that I would never forget him.
I couldn’t, even if I tried.
Sixteen years. Still feels like yesterday.
