September 11, 2001

I chose to participate in a blogging project called 2996 that was to include 2996 blogs, each giving a tribute to a fellow American lost on 9/11/2001. I was fortunate enough to be able to learn about Michael David Ferugio, who I compiled a story about from numerous sources in my previous blog. This is my personal tribute to Michael and all of the other victims of the 2001 terrorist attacks and is based on what this process meant to me.

This was an amazing process for me, as even 8 years later, my heart still hurts from the events of that day. Every year since I began the 2996 project I think of Michael and this song by Jimmy Eat World comes to mind:

Hear You Me by Jimmy Eat World

There's no one in town I know

You gave us some place to go

I never said thank you for that

I thought I might get one more chance

What would you think of me now

So lucky, so strong, so proud

I never said thank you for that

Now I'll never have a chance

May angels lead you in

Hear you me, my friends

On sleepless roads, the sleepless go

May angels lead you in

So what would you think of me now

So lucky, so strong, so proud

I never said thank you for that

Now I'll never have a chance

May angels lead you in

Hear you me, my friends

On sleepless roads, the sleepless go

May angels lead you in

May angels lead you in (May angels lead you in)

May angels lead you in (May angels lead you in)

And if you were with me tonight

I'd sing to you just one more time

A song for a heart so big

God wouldn't let it live

May angels lead you in

Hear you me, my friends

On sleepless roads, the sleepless go

May angels lead you in

May angels lead you in

Hear you me, my friends

On sleepless roads, the sleepless go

May angels lead you in

On sleepless roads, the sleepless go

May angels lead you in

Michael, though you are no longer physically on this Earth, you still live on through your legacy and memory, even today. You are never forgotten and you have not died in vain. Americans from all over this country are still remembering and learning through you.

Thank you Michael David Ferugio. I will never forget you, as long as I live.

Michael David Ferugio

It is so hard to believe that 8 years has passed. This has been my tribute every year on September 11th for fellow American Michael David Ferugion who was a victim of the terrorist attack on the World Trade Center. Rest in peace Michael and know that you are never forgotten.

So many of us were so far away from NYC on that tragic day eight years ago. Even though I was a thousand miles away, I still cry today when I see the footage just as I did as a wide-eyed innocent 17 year old high school senior. But even though I have never stepped foot on an inch of NYC soil or saw the twin towers with my own two eyes, I still feel connected to all of the victims and thier families, especially Michael. It is through this process of learning about him and his family that I too feel like I lost someone special eight years ago. All of America mourns for you and your families. We never forgot...nor will we ever forget.

Michael David Ferugio was a 37 year old insurance broker for Swett and Crawford and was at a meeting in the Aon Corporation offices on the 105th floor in the World Trade Center on the morning of September 11, 2001. He was a high school graduate of Pottsville Area High School and a 1987 graduate of Penn State. He continued to be a Penn State fanatic after graduation and his love for the university and football program was apparent to everyone who knew him. His wife had found an entry in his address book that read: "Ludmilla, cleaning woman, 31st floor-WT2, son is at Penn State!" Notes like this were only a small example of his kind nature and care for other people. Michael grew up remembering his roots and had never forgotten where he had come from, regardless of where his life would take him. His grandfather had been a coal miner and his father, a steam pipe fitter. It was from these humble beginnings that Michael got his down to earth demeanor.

Michael met his wife in 1991 where they worked at the same insurance company in the World Trade Center following his graduation and move to Brooklyn Heights. His wife described him as "bright-eyed, bushy-tailed kid from Pottsville" where she was the conscious city kid who made decisions with her head. They would each find other jbos outside of the World Trade Center. Despite their different approaches to life, the couple married on New Years Eve 1997.

I found a few quotes made by family that seemed to paint a picture of the person that Michael was:

"Mike loved people and all walks of life. None was too high, and none was too low." --Michael's mother.

"Michael didn't have to be reminded to call his mother, or to hold a door open for an elderly gentleman, or to volunteer his time." Tony Sleva, Michael's Brother in-law

In a story on Michael, Tony gave a suggestion for the best tribute to Michael's memory. "The most fitting tribute to Ferugio would be to imitate him by treating everyone with respect, love, and understanding." There were three requests that he made for the tribute: "When you finish reading, call your mother and tell her you love her. When you see someone in need, help them, before you retire for the night, ask yourself, 'What did I do for my fellow man today?"

Eat Your Heart Out Microsoft

Dear Microsoft,



I hate Windows Vista and consequently I hate you. You make my life hell.



Yours Truly,



M. Thomas

What The F?

Is EVERYONE that I used to be even remotely associated with married?!?

Recent Pics

More Thoughts

I have been going through more of my things...old pictures and journals just reflecting on all that has happened. Maybe I am going about all of this the wrong way. Last year was bad, truly horrible but a lot of good things came out of it. I know in my heart that I had quit loving the ex a long time before I moved to Amarillo. I thought it was normal for things to be icky. Oddly enough, I thank god the ex cheated on me while my uncle was dying in Austin. I would have never moved to Denver and would not have fallen in love with the canadian.

The truth is the canadian moves me. I had given up on the idea of the love my grandparents had--the soul consuming til death do us part kind of love. He makes me want to wake up everyday. He makes me feel like I can do anything. He has given me so much support in all areas of my life. He fulfills my every need and I would wait forever just to share a moment together. He values my opinions and listens to my advice--he actually seeks it out. We never fight at all. Our disagreements, though few and far between, are civil and respectful--he doesn't attack me--a far cry from my last relationship. My family loves him and my grandmother adores him--which is awesome because the ex and some of my family did not mesh well. Getting her approval was truly magnificent. I know he feels the same way for me too--we have been out to look at rings several times in the past few months and actually looked at some in Tulsa a few weeks ago. He had planned to propose while we were in Houston last week but apparently my ring size is freakishly small (like has to be factory made small). I love him so much. He treats me like a princess. I can't wait to meet his family and his kids. Its as if I already know them because he has told me so much about them. I feel like I have finally found the answers I have been searching for--I just have to be patient and wait for the next year to pass--I graduate in December with my masters, will finish my teacher certification program, and plan my wedding for next spring. By this time next year everything will be in its place. It is just so hard waiting when you know exactly what it is you want most in the world.

So maybe I am going about all of this in the wrong way. In reality...a lot of people are not as happy as they put on. For once in my life, I think I will focus on my life, my road and not how it measures up to everyone else. Screw the Joneses...

Fate

Its late. I am sitting in the living room enjoying a pear cider, a recent favorite courtesy of my beer-loving friends in Denver. I have been going through re-organizing the parentals house. I can't help it--I have become a bit of an organization freak in the past year. I guess moving three times in a year will do that to you. As I was cleaning out the family computer desk, I stumbled upon old cards that I had made for both of my parents, report cards, and letters; one was from my grandmother to my parents 6 months before my grandfather died, another was from a neighbor who was checking up on my mom after my dad had been sent to California for a year for work. It was so strange to see figments of my childhood from an adult point of view. I think the thing that struck me the most was a balance book from the early 90s. I was amazed at the balance of the bank account and I realized exactly how much my parents struggled to keep it together in our early years. There was never much more in that account than there was in mine when I started my job at Baker last year. How they juggled a household and two small kids on that amount is beyond me. It made me wonder if I could have done as well as they did under the same pressures. It really puts things in perspective for me. Your twenties aren't supposed to be fabulous and glamorous. Fun? Yes. Orderly? No.

Perhaps I expect too much. Is it too much to want the cake, the car, the kids, the house, the career, and the marriage? I suppose that it all happens in its own time. I just feel like mine is dragging out...I am in my eighth year of complete chaos and lack of structure. I haven't gotten even a piece of the life I had hoped to have. I have traveled, lived in lots of different places, and have gotten a wonderful education but all of those things don't keep you warm at night. I most certainly have the canadian but even he isn't mine quite yet. There is always something delaying us...some obstacle. We can't be together all of the time because of the chaos within the company--they don't know when or if they will move him stateside. We can't live together before we are married because of what happened the last time I lived with someone before I got married--which ended well (insert sarcasm here). And we can't just get married because, well, his family is in Canada and plane tickets to Canada are expensive. So I just have to wait...

I just keep wondering: how is it all supposed to work out?

Home Again?

You can't go home again...or can you? It is apparently entirely possible if your country is in the middle of a god-awful recession (thank you Wall St.) And so it is that I have found myself sitting in the living room of my childhood home with half of my stuff back in my old room (the other half still in my condo in Downtown Denver). But this time it isn't the same, as Tom Wolfe pointed out in the early 1940s book. The difference is that it has been 7 years since I have lived here. My room is no longer my room but is the family storage space for all their junk without a home. All of my friends here are pregnant, married, and/or have kids. They all have jobs and families, etc and so forth. I have been in and out of Midland for the past few weeks and have only managed to see 1 old friend. No phone calls, no mid-weekend coffees, no girls nights. Quite frankly, I am a little disappointed. I mean, I guess I understand--everyone's lives have evolved and most of them without me factoring into the picture. So much has changed and I am not sure which one it is: Me or Home?

I have to admit coming home has been a big pill to swallow (think horse pill). I know that it isn't necessarily my fault, that these things happen for a reason. I mean after all the recession and my consequent layoff were no fault of mine but I can't help but feel like a failure. It doesn't help that after being laid off and moving home that I have to continue to search for jobs that I am either "Over-Qualified," "Under-Qualified," or "lack experience" for. I feel like I am being crucified for all of my hard work and dedication in school--I can't even land a job answering phones. They literally throw my resume in the trash. It is infuriating.

I really shouldn't complain: This gives me time and the focus to work on my thesis and finish it. I have a fantastic family that took me back in when my chips were down--which is not something that everyone has. I have a wonderful and loving boyfriend who makes me feel more alive than anything else ever has. I know that in the next year I will get to move back to a city, plan my wedding (for reals this time), and land a real job but I am just so tired of waiting. Everything is so transitional--I will be 25 in two and a half weeks--and I can't create any form of stability for myself and by myself. I want to move forward. I want my own space to breathe in a place where I feel alive. I want to be with Todd.

Yadda, Yadda. I will be writing more often now that I am back in Midland. And unemployed. And lonely.

Out of Place

It is a Monday morning and I am sitting here by the window. In true Denver form, it is snowing. Tiny white snow flakes scatter in the air slowly as if time had slowed some how. I feel like I am in a snow globe. I find it ironic that on one of my last days in Denver it is snowing and it is nearly May. Things have become so complicated....well, perhaps they never stopped being complicated over the course of the past year. I don't know. When I left last year for Denver, I never pictured things happening this way. I don't want to portray it as if I haven't gotten a lot from coming here because I have...I just never expected everything to fall apart so quickly.



On Wednesday I am coming back to Midland, possibly for good and possibly only temporarily--only time will tell. I am still waiting to hear on a job in Oklahoma City. Not only that, Todd might be moving to OKC. I just wish I knew where I was supposed to go...what I am supposed to do.

Nervous.

Well the good news is that I actually got a job at a law firm here in Denver. I am pretty relieved considering how worried I was about getting a job at all this year. But at the same time I am really, really nervous about this new job. They handle accounts for banks who have people who essentially stopped paying their bills and my job would be to actually file the lawsuits against these people for the firm. I am just worried that this job is "too good to be true" so to speak and that they aren't as legitimate as they seem. I guess that is a pretty reasonable concern considering the economy and how people are so easily being taken advantage of these days. I don't know how to feel. I mean on one hand I am really, really lucky to have a job and this at least keeps Todd and I seeing each other regularly but on the other hand I am so afraid of being stuck in a job that sucks. I mean I would have a super hard time getting another job this year. I don't know--I think this whole situation has me completely bewildered: the layoff, the economy, and the job hunt. I think that I am a little shell-shocked. I am just ready to get back to normal again. I am tired of worrying all of the time and feeling vulnerable. I am hoping that this new job will be ok and that I am just anxious because I have gotten so used to working at Baker downtown both of which were really comfortable for me. I just have to remember that at least the people at the interview were really nice to me and it seemed like an ok place to work. I start on Monday so I guess I will see soon enough.



I guess I really just feel discouraged and a little home-sick. My core has been shaken and it is natural to go back to something that is familiar.