An autopsy of the president's failed effort to close Guantanamo

Beverly Eckert had more reason than most Americans to seek justice for those responsible for the 9/11 attacks. And she felt strongly that terrorism suspects should be tried on U.S. soil rather than being held indefinitely at Guantanamo or put before military tribunals. So she was a strong supporter of President Obama's call to close Guantanamo and try the suspects in U.S. courts. But his plans gradually unravelled, as shown in a lengthy analysis in the Washington Post. In short, the plan was not presented effectively to the public, and efforts to counteract strong congressional opposition failed because the White House did not have a strong, coherent, and convincing game plan. When Congress fought the closure, the White House blinked.

Beverly Eckert and her colleagues learned quickly how to win in Washington: know your subject; hone your message; build durable coalitions; and never ever back down.

Arnold Korotkin's 9/11 List-Serv: A one-man news service for the community

One of the most powerful tools wielded by Beverly Eckert and the other 9/11 activists was information. They learned early on that half the battle against entrenched interests like the Congress, the Pentagon, the airlines, and the Port Authority of New York & New Jersey was mastering all the facts.

Enter Arnold Korotkin, a sociology professor from Little Falls, New Jersey. A profile of Korotkin on baristanet.com sums up his work:

Korotkin’s work with the 9/11 community began when he was Director of Community Building for the United Way. His goal was to reach out to families that had lost loved ones as a result of the terrorist attack. “I quickly realized that many 9/11 families had ceased reading, listening to and/or reading the news,” explained Korotkin. “I began the 9/11 List-serv to provide family members access to news and relevant information about services and resources.”

Beverly and other 9/11 activists subscribed to the 9/11 List-Serv, and it provided a crucial source of articles and other information about issues they were working on. In addition, Korotkin distributed announcements, press releases and other materials produced by the family members and other 9/11 groups. It was a two-way channel of crucial 9/11 information.

I recently posted a request on the list serv for information about Beverly from people who knew her. Arnie was among those who wrote back, eager to express his admiration for Beverly, whom he first met when she testified before the 9/11 Commission at its raucous and controversial New York City hearing.

In the years that followed this first meeting, Beverly and I - in conversations and over coffee - would discuss myriad topics including where we were in the 60's, and to my surprise Beverly revealed that she made pottery in her "hippie days" - perhaps this was a way for her to express her warmth and compassion!

I was always impressed by Beverly's warmth, compassion and commitment. She was a friend who was taken from us too soon and her memory and dedication to 9/11 issues lives on!

anthonytoth.com goes live

I have set up a web site containing information about me, my work, and this book project. There is a brief biography of Beverly Eckert, as well as a summary of No Truer Hearts. There are also pages about my journalistic and academic experience. Thanks for visiting!

Beverly's Christmases Past

For someone who lives life with enthusiastic joy, who relishes celebrating with loved ones, who thrives on creating beautiful things for others, Christmas cannot come sooner each year. When Beverly and I spoke about her early years, she remembered to me Christmases past, each story lighting her face and animating her voice. There was the cardboard fireplace set up each year by her father, so Santa would have a ready entryway into the Eckert house. And the raucous holiday parties, the kids fueled by cookies and chips and bottles of pop cooled in a basement sink filled with ice. There were cherished presents, remembered forever, like a favorite doll, a trusty bike, a handy wagon. Always, there was music, loved ones gathered around the piano, singing carols in a close and familiar harmony tuned finely from years of practice.

One Christmas, Beverly put her artistic talents to full use, creating with her hands a set of Victorian carolers for her sisters' families, each family member carefully assembled -- from top hats and shawls, faces formed from clay, hair snipped from a reluctant Sean and others, and clothing and shoes painstakingly fitted together. Love is the things you do, you make, you pass along -- at Christmastime and all the year through. The group in the photo is the one Beverly made for her sister Karen and her family. Their heads are perpetually tilted up, singing in unison a familiar carol, just as Beverly and her loved ones used to do.

Merry Christmas, everyone!

Rosemary Auricchio Rooney, July 12, 1924 - December 13, 2010

The Sean Rooney that Beverly Eckert had fallen in love with was once a small boy who doted on his mother, Rosemary. So close was the boy to his mother that on one occasion, when he was asked to sit on the steps of the family house for a few seconds for a photo, he began to whimper because he could not be close enough at that moment to his mama. His sour expression is caught for eternity in the snap of that camera's shutter.

Rosemary Rooney told me this story with a sense of pride when I visited with her and with some of Sean's siblings in Buffalo in October, and she showed me that photo. She clearly relished the closeness she shared with the young Sean, and this closeness lasted until the very end of his life, on September 11, 2001.

And as Beverly grew to love Sean in the months after they met, she also grew to love Rosemary, who opened her house and her heart to her at a time when openness and warmth were in short supply on the home front for Beverly. In the Rooney household, Beverly was charmed by the relaxed, lively and generous spirit of a family in which good food was shared at the dinner table, along with large helpings of love, good humor and mutual respect between each child and parent. Beverly told me how loving and gregarious Rosemary was, what an easy, informal and good-hearted relationship she had with Sean and her other children.

Rosemary Rooney passed away on December 13 at her home, among children she loved so dearly. News of a grave illness came out of the blue a few weeks previous, and so her family had time to prepare for the inevitable goodbyes. They had a chance, a welcome, precious time to return a small portion of the great mountain of love she had doled out during her long life to Sean and Beverly and all her children and grandchildren and others close to hear large and generous heart.

The departure of every soul from this sweet earth is different. We never know whether there will be time to say goodbye to those who hold a part of our hearts. Best, then, to cherish the ones we love each day, so they always know, no matter what happens, how much they mean to us.

Here is the Buffalo News obituary for Rosemary.

Back to Buffalo, Part 4

Beverly had close friends going back to her grade school years in Buffalo, and I had the good fortune to speak with two of them: Kathleen DeLaney and Carol Bauda. They offered some wonderful memories of Beverly during her school days. Kathleen and Carol told stories of a Bev who, in addition to being a stalwart and big-hearted friend, was the instigator of pranks, a skilled athlete, an articulate and intelligent public speaker, a poet and writer, and an artist who revelled in the free atmosphere of the art room in Sacred Heart Academy. Here, the girls could find refuge from the strictures of the rest of the school, and listen to records, gossip, dream, and let their creative juices flow sitting at their easels.

The stories I was told will help me paint an accurate portrait of a life lived fully and well.

Back to Buffalo, Part 3

During my visit to Buffalo, I was guided to some of the places that were important in the life of Sean Rooney by his sister, Cynthia Blest. Certainly a formative influence on Sean's life were his years at Canisius High School. In the photo on the right, Cynthia is pointing to Sean's portrait in the Class of 1969 picture, which hangs in a large room outside the auditorium/gym. In a number of media accounts, including this article in the New York Times, Canisius is given as the place where Sean and Beverly first met at a dance. So I was eager to see the gymnasium, where such dances were held. But after speaking with several people, I learned that the 16-year-olds actually met at a dance at another school. (You can read the book to find out which one!)

Another place I was taken to was the first house in which Beverly and Sean lived. Here began a tradition of grand nest-feathering, with Sean taking the lead and Beverly ably assisting in home renovation projects large and small. The fine wooden beams that Sean had created in the kitchen were still there.