09/09/11 FORGET ABOUT THE GREENWICH TIME: If You Really Want To Know Whats Going On In Greenwich, Then You Have To Read The Out Of Town Newspapers

HARTFORD COURANT: Greenwich Remembers September 11 Ten Years Later; World Trade Center Attacks Still Resonate In Town

By

Christopher Keating

GREENWICH - Every year on September 11, Ed Dadakis drives to the waterfront park at Greenwich Point to read an essay he wrote about how he avoided death that day.

He pulls out the detailed, seven-page essay that explains why he missed a morning meeting in his office on the 105th floor of New York City's World Trade Center, which collapsed in the worst attack on America since Pearl Harbor.

The terrorist attacks cast a pall over the entire nation, but it struck particularly hard in Greenwich - the town with the highest casualties among Connecticut's 169 cities and towns. Overall, 12 Greenwich residents and 14 others who either grew up here or had ties to the town perished. The attacks shook the nation to its core and set off a rapid chain of events for wars in Afghanistan and Iraq. Citizens around the world were shaken, but here in Greenwich, the impact still lingers today.

The re-reading of the essay serves as an annual reminder for Dadakis at a beach with a direct view of the Manhattan skyline. As an employee at Aon Corp., Dadakis was scheduled to make an important presentation in his office in the south tower at 8 a.m. over the telephone to an insurance client in Malaysia - halfway around the globe. But after working late on the night of September 10, Dadakis suddenly decided that he would instead participate in the conference call from his home in Greenwich.

The last-minute decision saved his life.

When terrorists crashed a plane into the south tower, 176 of Dadakis's fellow Aon insurance employees perished.

"I'm lucky to be alive,'' Dadakis said in an interview. "Things were building up for me to be there at that time. I do realize I'm pretty lucky. ... I was told that the message had gotten out that I had died. I was supposed to be there. There was all this confusion as to who had lived and who had died. It took days before it was sorted out.''

Now, 10 years later, Dadakis still thinks regularly about that fateful day.

"I read it every September 11. I want to remember what happened,'' Dadakis said. "It's something in the background all the time. It was cataclysmic. It was life-changing. It was the defining moment of our generation. It was our Pearl Harbor.''

Dadakis, now 56, recalls being overwhelmed by the jammed-full answering machine of emotional messages from colleagues who were relieved that he had survived. He saved the tape, which included plaudits that are normally delivered in eulogies that most people never get to hear in their lifetimes.

Across Greenwich today, some still view the day with profound sadness. Some express anger. Others say they still get chills just talking about it 10 years later.

"I would say it's never gone away,'' said author William J. Clark, who has written extensively about Greenwich and serves as the town's unofficial historian. "Every time we take the ferry [to two town-owned islands], we look at the New York City skyline, and there's a big gaping hole. It's a daily reminder of that terrible, terrible day. It's a constant reminder.''

Clark traveled last week on the town-owned ferry to Great Captains Island, a largely undeveloped spit of land one mile off the Greenwich shore. On the island's southeastern tip, the town has erected a memorial to the 26 residents who perished on September 11. Each of their names is stamped on the memorial, which depicts both the Statue of Liberty and the twin towers. The memorial is positioned facing southwest - with a direct view of where the twin towers had stood. The New York City skyline, now dominated by the Empire State Building, is clearly visible on the horizon.

The simple memorial is a slab of granite on a semi-circular stone patio with two green benches facing toward Manhattan. Clark sat on one of the benches after arriving on the small, open-air ferry that runs only three months per year and can dock only at high tide.

"You really have to want to come here,'' he said, noting the small window of time when the ferry operates to the remote island. "It's extremely peaceful. It's such an appropriate place, where you can sit in God's peace and God's quiet.''

Almost every day during the summer season, citizens arrive to visit the memorial. The island's caretaker for nearly 10 years, Mike Nickerson, sees them as they approach the lighthouse, but he says he does not bother them and allows them to reflect in peace. He attended school with the sister of one of the victims, Tommy Galvin, who captained the Greenwich High School varsity golf team before graduating from Georgetown and then working as a senior vice president at Cantor Fitzgerald, the bond company that lost 658 employees on September 11.

The memorial was not unveiled until nine years after the attacks, and it might not have happened without the Fisher family - a prominent and large clan that raised the most money and served as the drivng force behind the memorial.

Bennett Fisher, a Yale University graduate like his grandfather and father before him, was the oldest of seven children and a well-known sailor who had become impassioned in his final years about restoring the lighthouse at Great Captains Island. When he died in the tower collapse, his wife, Susan, designated that one of the places that contributions could be sent was the fund to restore the lighthouse. Before long, the family had raised $275,000. Overall, more than $1 million was spent to restore the lighthouse and create the adjacent memorial that was unveiled only one year ago.

For Fisher's younger brother, Harry, it is time for the September 11 attacks to begin moving out of the spotlight. He realizes that the biggest attack on America since Pearl Harbor 60 years earlier was an international calamity, but he is hoping for a more low-key commemoration in the future.

All of the September 11 families handle it in different ways. Some stay completely out of the spotlight. Others speak with reporters on a limited basis, and some have almost stepped forward as representatives of the families.

For Fisher, it is a time to try to remain in the background.

"I'd like to see it all start to become more of a private matter for the relatives of the victims,'' Fisher said. "At some point, it needs to recede more to be more private. I think it's time to stop reading the names'' every year at the site of the attacks in lower Manhattan. "I'm stuck with a public day that I would rather be more private. That's reality.''

Fisher, 58, has never attended the annual ceremony in which thousands of names are read by various officials as family members gather to remember their loved ones. And he has also avoided watching documentaries or reading the many books on the attacks. Fisher's brother, who was 58 ten years ago, was a hero as he was seen helping others to safety in a stairwell in the final hour before the towers collapsed. A senior vice president and portfolio manager at Fiduciary Trust International on the 97th floor, Fisher had survived the 1993 bombing of the trade center and had experience in helping others inside the towers.

"He did what I would have done. Both of us were always designated as the fire marshal on our floors,'' Fisher said. "We found out about how Ben died. He went from Tower 2 to Tower 1. In Tower 1, he found the fire command center. Then they moved the fire command center to the Vista Hotel [adjacent to the towers]. In early January [2002], they found him with the firemen. ... When Tower 2 came down, it sheered off the front of the hotel. That's what crushed them all down.''

"For me, it's the day I lost my brother, and I must have gone to six other funerals for people I knew or the kids of people I knew,'' Fisher said as he sat in his rocking chair on his front porch in Greenwich. "Maybe why I don't need to read anything is we got pretty good closure on it. I know as much as I need to know to move forward, and now it's about getting rid of the bad guys. That's all I really care about.''

Fisher also has a request about how the day is remembered.

"I'd love to see us return to calling it September 11 and not 9-11,'' Fisher said. "We don't say 12-7. We say Pearl Harbor Day. It's the Fourth of July. It's not 7 - 4. If we call it September 11, it has a higher level of respect.''

All throughout Greenwich, the reminders of September 11 are not far away. By outward appearances, on a day to day basis, there are few outward, physical signs 10 years later. But underneath the surface, it is never far away from the minds of Greenwich residents.

Inside the firehouse in the Glenville section of town, away from the view of anyone driving by, are two framed memories. One is a collection of postage-stamp sized portraits of all 343 New York City firefighters who lost their lives - mug shots of each firefighter killed that day. On an adjacent wall is a large, framed flag with the names of all emergency services personnel who died, including New York City and Port Authority police officers. The Glenville firehouse will be the resting spot for an actual piece of steel from the World Trade Center that will be unveiled Friday. On a recent tour outside the station, a small concrete slab has been poured where the piece will be placed. But the piece has been kept out of sight and will remain secret until the unveiling.

Down the street is the local Veterans club, where one of the largest American flags in Greenwich is emblazoned across the side of the building - measuring about 13 feet by 15 feet.

Sam Romeo, a longtime resident, still gets upset when he thinks about that day. As an elected member of the Representative Town Meeting, Romeo was among those voting at the time on the controversial issue of whether to install lights at the Greenwich High School football field for night games. After the attacks, he received a postcard in the mail from a person who asked him to support the installation of the lights - and he soon realized it was from one of those who had died in the attacks.

"We had almost 30 killed, murdered by those terrorists,'' Romeo said. "I call them homicide bombers. They're murderers. It was disgraceful. ... Right now, just thinking about it is bothering me. You think it's 10 years, and you move on. I get goose bumps just thinking about it.''

Soon after the attacks, Romeo left town and went to his vacation home on Lake George in upstate New York. While there, he purchased some of the hottest-selling items - large beach towels that were emblazoned with the American flag. Today, he keeps them draped over a couch.

"Every day I look at them,'' Romeo said.

For L. Scott Frantz, a longtime business investor who became a state senator three years ago, the memories are not far away. Like many residents, Frantz is an avid boater who is regularly out on Long Island Sound and immediately notices the gaping hole in the New York City skyline.

"It never will go away for people down here, and that's because people either work in New York City or have a direct view of it'' or have other ties, Frantz said. "It devastated the town emotionally to literally see this happen. It was absolute shock. No one could believe what was happening so close to our town. There was fear, every day, that we would hear of more people.''

Clark, the unofficial historian, said that September 11 was so huge that time has not healed all of the wounds.

"We in Greenwich feel the echoes of 9-11 inside of us almost every day. Let me change that. Every day,'' Clark said. "It seems like everywhere you turn, if you're conscious and look for it, there are reminders.''

"Time does not always diminish some things,'' Clark said, "and even 10 years later, this is one of those things that time has not diminished.''