Five years has come and gone. It was, then, a normal school day, teaching anatomy, when a student who had gone to her locker on a pass returned and said "Turn on the t.v.!"
At that time we had cable in our rooms due to Channel 1 and what we saw just stunned us. We saw the towers burning, and then we saw them fall. We just sat there, wondering what had happened.
Little did we know, at that moment who was there. One man was there, and this post is about him.
Captain Frederick Ill, Jr. was in those buildings, doing his job. The job he choose to do, to save life, not to take it.
Captain Ill was the personification of a New York firefighter; father, husband, solder, son, a person who, just like myself, went to work on that beautiful clear day in September. Only he didn't go home.
Captain Ill, didn't ask to become a hero, he just became one. By his deeds, his selfless service to others. His desire to help others who needed it.
To be brave is to do what is terrifying and scary and still doing it.
Once, I read the head stone of another captain, one who gave his life for his country. At that time, I was older than he was when he died. That young captain died in 1863. One day, another young man will look at Captain Ill's photograph hanging in the hallway of his firehouse and wonder about him. Wonder about that long ago war that started in his city. Wonder what his life will be and wonder if he can live up to Frederick's standard.
Today's post is dedicated to Captain Frederick Ill Jr. A member of the FDNY.
You can read more about Capt. Ill at the following web site: