Sept. 11 anniversary brings back flood of memories

The following column originally ran in the Anchorage Daily News and is reprinted her with permission from the author:

I don’t know what to do with my grief. Sept. 11, again. I’m recalling being home in a suburb of Boston in the ‘70s and a history teacher and coach named Jim Trentini. I remember his love of learning and his extremely positive attitude. He would arrive early to practice and be first on the field. He Knew kids’ names and would ask, “How are you?” He’d smile and hug – a teenager.

Today I’m watching an A&E Sept. 11 special with citizens arguing among one another about democracy and free speech, then hugging and expressing “what do we do with this grief?”

My tears now flow freely. I remember Jim and his wife, Mary, having spaghetti dinners for athletes and families. He’d wear an apron and silly chef’s hat over his Marine crew cut – with a smile. “How ya doing today, Mags?” he’d ask my five younger male siblings (the Maguire boys) with an eye for the remaining four Maguire sisters.

After my dad passed in ’78 Jim would always go out of his way to support “Mrs. Maguire,” as he would call her. It was odd hearing a man my mom’s age refer to her as “Mrs.” A form of respect, I imagine. At my father’s wake Jim said: “call us, we’ll be there for you – anytime, anywhere.” They were. Many days after dad’s death it was “chicken or gas” for my mom, meaning “how do I spend what little money is left?” For months my family found fruit baskets and money in envelopes dropped overnight on the porch, no note or signature – nothing. We knew, though, Jim and Mary had stealthed onto our property!

I returned to college, having tried to be “dad” after my father’s death. My sibs told me, “You’re not our dad!” Jim had it down, though – being their dad without them knowing. He knew “how to be” with sibs and how to anticipate their needs. He kept an eye on “the Maguire boys,” knowing what adolescence could bring. He’d be sure my brothers had a ride home from practice, would put an arm around them and laugh, cracking corny jokes! He always had a big smile and was positive. Yeah, “the boys” had a positive male role model who knew “who he was” and “what mattered.” Jim’s message: Kids mattered – love them, talk to them, know their names, laugh them and hug them – be a friend.

On Sept. 11, 2001, I rushed into my living room and saw the second plane crash into Tower II. Then, the phone call on Sept. 12. Apparently, Jim and Mary offered his son and daugher-in-law a break from their young kids in California. They flew out of Boston headed to California on the 11^th to babysit the grandkids.

Suddenly, they became hostages as their plane flew into Tower II.

I imagined them in those last few moments of sheer fear – Jim shoulder to shoulder with Mary, hugging her close and holding her hands with a look of love. I’ll bet they faced their fate with courage and calmed each other … praying. They knew “who they were and what mattered” and had lived one commandment: “Love one another.”

On a Sunday shortly after Sept. 11, the Anchorage Daily News posted random photos and names of Sept. 11 victims. I was at home in Palmer drinking coffee and opened the paper to find a large photo of Jim and Mary together, shoulder to shoulder and smiling among many other victims. They are both “glowing” with great big smiles, happy to be together?

My family weeps today – tears of love and thanks – for Jim and Mary. God bless them and our kids.

Paul Maguire, Ph.D lives is a resident of Bradley Lake in Palmer.