National September 11 Memorial and Museum Tribute

I don't know how many times Beverly would say, "I'm just not a writer." And every time I read one of her eloquent speeches or letters or recollections, I would tell her, "yes, you are."

The National September 11 Memorial and Museum has a page paying tribute to Beverly, and it contains an eloquent piece Beverly had written in July 2006 about her love for Sean, and that final call. It reads like a loving and poetic prayer.  

He was calm, so she didn't cry. He told her to give his love to his family. They spoke of their life together, all the happiness they'd shared. Over and over, he whispered that he loved her. They tried to live the rest of their lives in the few seconds they had left. Tried to make time stand still. Then, through the phone, she heard the tower begin its collapse.

Afterward, she tried not to think about what she lost - but what she'd had.

I am indebted to Jan Ramirez, Chief Curator and Director of Collections for the memorial and museum, for bringing the group's tribute to Beverly to my attention.

A first and last meeting with President Obama

Beverly was in breathless, mind-racing, adrenalin-fueled, post-meeting download mode when I spoke to her for the last time. She was taking a taxi from the White House to National Airport, having just met President Obama as part of a group of relatives of terrorism victims on February 6. As we (she) spoke, I could envision her balancing her cell phone on her shoulder as she went through her notes, the words tumbling out fast.

It was vintage Beverly, and this image of her will stay with me always.

We had many times gone through this same drill in the past few years. After press conferences, hearings, meetings, memorials and other events dealing with 9-11, we she would talk on the phone or in person about what had happened, and what would happen next. Sometimes she her enthusiasm bubbled through the phone lines. Other times she would complain about being tired, frustrated, disappointed. But once she set upon a course of action, she would see it through to the end.

Beverly was not a political animal before her life changed. But it did not take her long to focus her intellect and instincts on the questions that mattered to her most: What went wrong on 9-11? And what does our country need to do to prevent another such catastrophe? To the very end she was fighting the good fight, from Stamford to Washington and every place in between. Some news accounts have described Beverly and the other family members as "amateur lobbyists." The only thing amateurish about Beverly was her working without salary.

"Wait," she suddenly said during this last call. "The sun is setting and we're just passing the Lincoln Memorial. It's so pretty... let me take a picture!" My smile turned to laughter as I pictured her craning in the back seat of the cab, angling her camera to get a fleeting shot of this scene that caught her eye. "Beverly," I said, "just buy a postcard!"

A couple of days later, Beverly sent me a long email describing the meeting with Obama. I had told her I wasn't taking notes during our phone conversation, and asked if she could write down her recollections. She was always eager to give a full account of her activities. I will use these last words to me as a basis for an article describing a courageous 9-11 activist's last stand. The meeting with the president has received a good amount of media coverage. This CNN piece offers some details absent in most articles, including the mention of the letter Beverly presented to the president, explaining her view on closing the Guantanamo detention facility.

Beverly was a member of September 11 Families for Peaceful Tomorrows, and in the photo above, another member of that group, Valerie Lucznikowska, is seen between Beverly and the president. Lucznikowska talks at length in this video clip to a Democracy Now reporter about Beverly's support of the president's decision to close the detainee camp.

A perfectionist with a keen eye for detail

Beverly Eckert liked to have everything just so.

You could see it in they way she decorated her house, the way she dressed for an important event, the care she took in preparing the many written statements she read in front of gatherings large and small.

And just now, I made a small change in one of my earlier blog entries that Beverly had asked me to make. It illustrates her attention to detail, and her desire to leave behind an accurate record. This quality is of course golden to an historian, who values accuracy and a sharp observer's eye. In any case, I had written that there was a "small picture" of Sean looking down on us in the living room of Beverly's house. In the course of a telephone conversation a few weeks ago, Beverly mentioned, almost as an aside, that it would be nice if i could remove the word "small." She did not want people to think that she had any sort of diminished appreciation for Sean's pictorial representation in her house. 

I had said "small" because the photograph, sitting on a shelf, was unobtrusive, in scale with its surroundings, perhaps four by six inches in dimension. There were larger pieces of art on the walls, and I suppose I had subconsciously compared Sean's photo to these when I wrote those words.

I thought at the time of Beverly's remark that it was a small quibble. But upon reflection I realized that this was one of the most important things she could convey: her great appreciation and love for Sean. My use of "small" in connection with the photo of her husband had deeper significance than I had at first imagined. And so I learned a lesson in perceptions and sensitivity and perspective. And the keen eye of a perfectionist.

Another thing that has made working with Beverly over the years such a pleasure was her deep desire to present the truth with great honesty, to lay down the elements of her story and let the chips fall where they may. She did not shy away, for example, from discussing times of disagreement and dischord among members of the Family Steering Committee. Nor did she pull punches regarding her own shortcomings or foibles. Above all, she was concerned about making sure credit for 9-11 reform efforts was given where credit was due.

So readers of No Truer Hearts can expect an account as honest and meticulous as Beverly, one of the book's main sources. And, by the way, as straight and balanced as the perspective of the author. These days following Beverly's death have imbued accounts of her life with glowing praise without exception. And on an emotional and psychological and personal level that is to be expected. (But I can just imagine Beverly complaining about this blog's recent focus only on her.)

But as the time comes to put her story down on paper, the account will hew closely to what the sources provide -- all the sources, not just Beverly. That is what both she and I wanted most.

Remembering Beverly...

Beverly's tragic life story of enduring love and searing loss is told briefly and sparely by Charity Vogel of the Buffalo News. And here, a small detail speaks volumes: the fact that Beverly never removed the special wedding band she received from Sean. It had been on her finger the morning of their final goodbye. And she wore it all the years since, until her final day on this earth.

Margot Eckert, talks about her sister Beverly's grit and determination in this interview for Boston's Fox affiliate. She also mournfully talks of the loss. "She was my sister," said Margot, "I went on vacations with her. I had picnics with her. That is the hole she is leaving. Those are the holes being left by the people that died."

The quiet, humble, yet warm side of Beverly emerges in the comments of Canisius High School President John Knight in this Newark, NJ Star-Ledger article by Leslie Kwoh. "I would say she was very understated," said Knight. "She didn't draw a lot of attention to herself.... She's a phenomenal person, a very warm presence, a lovely smile and a kind word for everyone."

A small number of reporters got to know Beverly through their coverage of 9-11-related stories, and they have been painting more detailed and intimate portraits in their articles than those who never met her. Beverly's many accomplishments are inspiring; her humanity and grace are deeply affecting. Peter Urban has been covering the Washington beat for the Connecticut Post, and he has written a touching column about his reaction to Beverly's loss. When he learned of Beverly's death, writes Urban, "...my stomach churned, and it was tough to fight back the tears." And in an article, Urban notes the many tributes offered by those who knew Beverly and worked with her on government reform. "She was smart, analytical, decent and indefatigable," said Betsy Hawkings, chief of staff for Rep. Christopher Shays of Connecticut about Beverly. In No Truer Hearts, I will present the hitherto untold story of how 9-11 family members and congressional staffers formed a powerful and mutually supportive alliance which was able to overcome strong opposition from other members of Congress, the White House, and government agencies.

Beverly's husband, Sean Rooney, graduated from Canisius High School in 1969. In 2002, Beverly had established a scholarship in Sean's memory to give an opportunity for a student with potential who has financial need. More details about this aspect of Beverly's efforts appear on the page "Canisius Remembers Beverly Eckert."

And finally, (for today, at least) I will mention with mixed feelings the new Wikipedia article about Beverly. It is, like most Wikipedia articles, poorly written, unevenly sourced, and just factual enough to convince the reader that the whole thing is accurate. At some point, I will write a proper summary of Beverly's life, most likely on the forthcoming web page for No Truer Hearts. 

Beverly Eckert: a life lived with love and purpose

In media reports, the poignant details about Beverly's life and the things she would have done had she lived keep emerging in bittersweet portions. 

On Friday, Tom Brokaw painted a warm, thoughtful and inspiring portrait of Beverly, in the regular NBC Nightly News segment, "Making a Difference." Brokaw called Beverly's last conversation with Sean "haunting and heartbreaking," and the veteran newsman, who had interviewed Beverly and kept in touch with her over the years, walks viewers though Beverly's long, loving relationship with Sean, the events of that terrible morning, and Beverly's new life afterward. It is painful to see Beverly's anguished face describing her moment of loss, but uplifting and even joyful to watch a parade of Beverly's old family photos, and videos of her 9-11 activism. Brokaw at his best.

One of Beverly's incredible qualities was to easily make a personal connection with a total stranger in a matter of minutes. Upon learning of Beverly's death, journalist Michael Howerton recounted how Beverly comforted him as he began to cry during an interview not long after 9-11 in which Beverly talked about her last conversation with Sean. It is a beautiful, brave and honest piece of writing. Yesterday, the Stamford Advocate reprinted the Sept. 19, 2001 article Howerton had written after his emotional interview with Beverly.

Today, Beverly would have been celebrating Sean's 57th birthday with family and friends in Buffalo. A Buffalo News article by Maki Becker and Steven T. Watson gives other details of Beverly's past and plans for her future. Kathleen Delaney, a close friend of Beverly's from their days at Sacred Heart Academy, was going to have Beverly over for "pizza and wine and lively conversation" on Friday, the day after her planned arrival, according to the article. The two women and other classmates were then going to talk about their 40th reunion at a dinner planned for last night. Sacred Heart officials were planning to present Beverly herself with the 2009 Distinguished Alumna award in May. Now, the award will be posthumous. 

Margot Eckert, of Springfield, MA, said she of all Beverly's four siblings spent the most time with Beverly. In an interview with Springfield's WWLP, Margot said of Beverly, "She was absolutely fearless in talking to authority, talking clearly, talking plainly, and she was an example to all of us that one person can make a difference."

Beverly's two other sisters (Karen Eckert and Susan Bourque) and her brother, Ray Eckert, appear in this brief but edifying interview with Don Postles of Buffalo's WIVB-TV. In telephone conversations with Beverly, before her trip to Buffalo, Karen Eckert said, "There was just laughter in her voice talking all the time throughout the week, what we were going to do and how we were going to do it." They talked about her courage, about the way Sean's courage in the face of death inspired Beverly, and how Beverly's resolve gave them strength.

One of Beverly's longest-lasting relationships among the 9-11 activists was with Mary Fetchet, with whom she co-founded the advocacy group Voices of September 11th in October 2001. Sheyenne Rodriguez of WTVD-TV, Raleigh-Duham, NC, put together a very nice video segment in which Fetchet pays tribute to her departed friend. A fuller video report, which contains more of Mary Fetchet's comments, can be found on abcnews.com and typing "remembering beverly eckert" in the search box.

Reflections on a remarkable life...

In the coming days, the media accounts of Beverly's life and works will continue, and I will try to find the most notable. 

Beverly's quickly mastered skills as a "citizen activist" were admired by those with long experience in the political arena, among them, Timothy Roemer, who became a 9-11 commissioner after serving as a Member of Congress for 12 years, representing the 107th District in Illinois. In a Los Angeles Times article by Bob Drogin, Roemer says of Beverly: "She really redefined for America how to be an effective activist and committed citizen." He adds, "When she started, she didn't know if the House or Senate was bigger. Ultimately, she was leading strategy sessions, meeting editorial boards, leading rallies." I especially like the photo of Beverly that accompanies the article: she's squatting gracefully next to pile of lumber, clad in a white work shirt, jeans, sun-visor and tool belt, working in Slidell, La. on a Habitat for Humanity project. [Photo by Matthew Hinton, AFP/Getty Images.]

Tragedy forged a special connection between Beverly and the people of Slidell, La. For Beverly, it had been 9-11, and for the people of Slidell it was Hurricane Katrina. Habitat for Humanity projects helped the people of Louisiana and the Gulf Coast recover from the devastating storm. An article by Doug Mouton describes how a 9-11 memorial established by the people of Slidell deeply touched Beverly. "Out of everything you folks have been through," she said, "that you still want to do this 9-11 memorial is just, really, it just moved me, and I said 'I'm thanking the city with my heart, but I'm thanking you with my hands as well." Christine Harvey of the New Orleans Times-Picayune added more details to Beverly's Slidell connection. 

The photo above by Matthew Hinton shows Beverly working in Slidell with her Habitat colleagues. A slideshow with wonderful photos of Beverly's activities in the area has been assembled Hinton, of the Times-Picayune. Hinton also recorded an accompanying narration by Beverly, in which she described her work, and the inspiration she drew from Sean. This multimedia package sensitively evokes Beverly's love, strength, courage and expansive spirit.

There are some lovely and illuminating words from people who knew, loved and respected Beverly in this Hartford Courant article by Jesse Leavenworth. Beverly's long-time partner in 9-11 struggles and victories, and friend, Mary Fetchett, said, "Beverly's friendship, spirit and commitment were an inspiration to all those who had the privilege to work with her. It was an honor to know her and her friendship will be sorely missed." Others spoke of Beverly's multiple interests, stressing that she was not solely interested in 9-11, but her community as well, and the world at large. And when her major political battles were won in Washington, she gave herself a well-deserved break by setting off on other adventures, including long-distance sailing trips.

"She made a difference: Beverly Eckert became a force for good after her husband was killed on 9/11" reads the headline over the editorial in today's New York Daily News. So true. The accompanying photo makes me smile, even now. Beverly is beaming, sundrenched and windblown, an American flag crossing her heart. It is a wonderful way to remember her...

This thoughtful article by Jim Dwyer of the New York Times is warmed by his acquaintance with Beverly, and his genuine admiration for her accomplishments. And we are treated to another facet of her complex personality: "She had the rare ability to separate the part of her that was grieving from the part that was rational, objective, analytic," said John Farmer, a senior counsel to the 9-11 Commission.

"Flight 3407 tragedy silences Beverly Eckert, voice of 9-11" is the apt headline over Michael Daly's fine column in the New York Daily News. And he lets us know that Beverly "proved to have a unique gift" for bringing together 9-11 activists with varied political views, "bridging the differences between civilians and firefighters, liberals and conservatives, all of them hurt and angry."

Keith Olbermann of MSNBC provided an incisive and earnest report on Beverly's work, and the video clip, with footage of Beverly, contains high praise from Secretary of State Hillary Clinton.

An article by Charity Vogel in the Buffalo News about some of the plane crash victims has this from Beverly's sister, Karen Eckert: "[Beverly] was an extremely intelligent, competent person. When she was faced with what she faced, and saw a reason to do something, she put her many talents toward that.... But she wanted balance in her life, too. She said 'Every day is precious.'"

The New York Times obituary by Sewell Chan adds a few details to his previous article about Beverly.

Beverly Eckert, 1951-2009

Dear Beverly,

Let me write you one last letter, after the many we have exchanged over the years. My fingers falter and tremble, so this may take a while, and my vision is blurring now and then. (Kleenex helps, and so will the comfort of loved ones, and time. It really is true what they say about time and broken hearts. But you know all that so well. Sadly, the relief that comes with the years is only partial.)

What does it mean that the first thing I saw when I turned on the television this morning was your face? You sometimes talked to me about omens, about signs, strange coincidences that made you struggle for an explanation. During one of our interviews for the book, you told me that years before 9-11, as you were walking in the shadow of the Twin Towers, you craned your neck and looked up at them and asked Sean if they would ever fall.

For a split second, when I saw the photograph of your face on TV this morning, I thought they were doing a story about Guantanamo. You had excitedly described to me on the phone last week that your meeting with President Obama had gone well, that you and the other family members got to voice your views, and that the president showed care and concern for your opinions and feelings. I could tell that you were exhilarated by the day's events, not just meeting the new president, but working together once again with the other members of the FSC. In a way, you told me, it was like old times. I was eager to get details about the meeting from you so I could write an article with the theme "the work goes on...."

But the TV report was not about Guantanamo. The reporter said you were one of those who died in that terrible plane crash outside of Buffalo. 

It felt like a brick had fallen on my heart. With hardly any air in my lungs I choked out a whisper to Michelle, in the next room, "Oh my God, Beverly's been killed..."

My mind raced to catch up with what I was hearing -- bad weather, no survivors, the last radio contact. The newscaster's words washed over me as I watched in a daze the footage of the burning wreckage.  Beverly, I know you're gone, but I'm not yet ready to say goodbye. We have a lot of work still to do.

We sat together for many hours of interviews, Beverly, during which I not only learned about your deep enduring love for Sean, and your tireless work to keep his memory alive after he perished. I also heard the voice of an intelligent, thoughtful, accomplished woman. You had an eye for detail, an open and active mind, and a generous heart. I knew from our earliest conversations that this would be an extraordinary book because you were an extraordinary person.

So we will be together again in the coming months, as I continue to transcribe your words onto the page. So many, many words. I know my heart will break a little over and over as I hear your living voice telling your story. And I will read your many emails and letters and articles, the long, long paper trail of your prodigious 9-11 reform efforts. And there will be the interviews with your FSC partners, people on the Hill, friends, family. So much more work to do. 

But be assured, even though all I have now are the words you left behind, No Truer Hearts will tell your story some day. You were always a careful and cautious person, even more so after 9/11. And I remember that you gave it a lot of thought when I asked if you would like to work with me in the writing of this book. One reason you agreed to go forward was that you wanted a "full and balanced" account of the FSC and the 9-11 Commission, and you felt I could do that. I have been ever humbled by your trust. I know how much this story means to you. 

Another reason was Sean. 

I know he was always in your heart. Who could imagine two lives so lovingly intertwined as yours and Sean's? Sometimes, you had told me, you could imagine him standing in a doorway in your house, arms crossed, smiling contentedly at you, and that image gave you comfort. You had told people how brave Sean had been during that final conversation, as he faced his death, giving you strength, professing his love, urging you to continue living a full, happy life. And then, after that terrible day, you continued to say goodbye to him, in large ways and small, planting some trees here, creating a scholarship there, commissioning a mural at the train station where he stood in Stamford every workday morning. 

Your life has been a testament to Sean. The love you shared carried you forward, strengthened you, inspired you. People sometimes wonder about love, but it is simple: love is the good things you do. And your love was great.

Dear Beverly, your life, your good works, your kind soul have sent out ripples far and wide. Thank you for the great honor of working with you, knowing you, becoming your friend. I will do my best to make this book a worthy memorial to Sean, as I know you wanted. And now, after this heartbreaking day, it will be as well a testament to you. 

Your tragic and inspirational  life, your enduring example of love and devotion, and the expansive richness of your soul will live on.

With tears of loss, love and admiration,

t

[Photo by Derek Gee, Buffalo News.]

Some coverage of Beverly Eckert online: 

An early account of the crash appears in this Buffalo News article. And here's a very nice summary of Beverly's life by Sewell Chan of the New York Times. And this Associated Press article by Devlin Barrett contains some wonderful quotes about Beverly. The Chicago Tribune's Washington Bureau assembled some evocative photos of Beverly, including one of the pastoral mural at the Stamford train station to honor Sean. A summary from the Daily News, with a couple new details.

Some of the news accounts mention that Beverly was "fragile" and that she would on occasion cry during her public appearances, especially when talking about Sean. It's true, when deep emotions arose from Beverly's heart, they clearly appeared -- in the tears in her eyes, the furrow in her brow, the break in her voice. This happened a number of times when we spoke about Sean and her reform activities. Sometimes I joined her in shedding a tear, in silence. So trust me: her shows of emotion came from deep within her, unbidden. She had, after all, a big heart. Only those who did not know Beverly, or who are cynical beyond redemption, say that she used her tears for effect. 

And another thing was clear to those who knew Beverly, or stood on the other side of an issue: there was nothing fragile about her. Yes, she was kind and sensitive, but at the center of her being was a solid steel core of conviction. I love this quote from her friend and fellow 9-11 family member, Bill Harvey: "She would never shy from the good fight or negotiate what she knew to be right." It appears at the end of a short Daily News piece.

The comments of Lee Ielpi in this Bloomberg Press article by Alex Nussbaum and David M. Levitt cut to the core of Beverly's success in her many post-9-11 endeavors. "She was an inspiration to me and so many others," said Ielpi. "She wasn't one where you were going to see her name splashed all over, but she was the type of person who was able to talk and guide people, steer them in the right direction, and stay out of the limelight." Ielpi lost his son, firefighter Jonathan Ielpi, on 9-11.