Sculpting a book: from bare outline to fully formed story

When I am asked about the writing process, I like to use the analogy of a sculptor.

Just as a sculptor starts with sketches or small scale models, I began this project by making notes on the general structure of the book, following the main paths of Beverly Eckert's story. And just as a sculptor working in clay fashions a wire frame in the general shape of the final piece, I put together an outline listing the main parts, chapters, episodes of the story. To add texture and depth to the bare wire frame, the artist pinches off pieces of clay and smoothes them onto the frame, layer by layer, getting closer to the final design. As in all good works of non-fiction, the story told in No Truer Hearts is made up of facts, which I am drawing from interviews, emails, documents, articles, books, films, electronic media and other sources. I use these sources to add detail, insight and color to the basic outline, layer by layer, chapter by chapter, episode by episode. It is a process, in a way, of creative accretion, a gradual and deliberate adding on of color, shape, substance, soul.

In the end, there will be something that is both pleasing to the senses, and sturdy enough as an object of historical analysis to stand the test of time, a goal that Beverly and I both shared.

Beverly Eckert and her sisters: citizen advocates fighting for the average American

Washington is awash in lobbyists.

Wealthy corporations and groups funnel rivers of cash to slick lawyers, former Congressmen and well-connected ex-government officials to grease the skids of special interest political influence. It is a story as old as politics itself, and too often it results in policies that benefit the rich and powerful rather than promoting the high ideal of government of the people, by the people and for the people.

That is why the story of Beverly Eckert and her fellow 9/11 family members is so compelling. Average citizens faced with an epic catastrophe responded by almost singlehandedly compelling the government to better protect its citizens. Without the commitment, skill, and persistence of the family members, the system that allowed 9/11 to happen would have continued to function for the most part in its old, dysfunctional way.

(And even after intelligence reforms were passed, the bureaucracy and private corporations have found new ways to put their interests above those of the nation, and once again make us all vulnerable to future attacks, as reported in a special Washington Post series this week.)

Now comes an update on the similar reform work by family members of Flight 3407, including Beverly's sister's Karen Eckert and Susan Bourque. In it, Associate Press reporter Joan Lowy describes exactly how this latest effective band of citizen advocates were able to convince members of Congress for the need to improve airline safety:

As a group, they have made more than 30 lobbying trips to Washington at their own expense over the past 17 months since the crash in Buffalo, N.Y., united them in grief — with a determination to try to fix what had gone wrong.

They've met with 88 senators or their staffs, and two dozen House members or their aides — many of them more than once. They've attended every congressional hearing with any connection to aviation safety. They've watched from the House and Senate visitor galleries as lawmakers debated reforms, an unmistakable island of red sweaters, ties and jackets — their chosen color — with photos of their loved ones pinned to their chests.

In March, when Sen. Bob Corker, R-Tenn., threatened to block a vote on the bill because he objected to a labor provision affecting FedEx Corp., which is headquartered in his state, about 20 family members descended on his office. In a tense meeting with Corker's chief of staff, they demanded he explain why the senator was putting the interests of a company ahead of safety. They held out pictures of the loved ones they'd lost, told of the children who would grow up without fathers.

Ten minutes after the meeting ended, family members were still standing outside Corker's office trying to decide what to do next when an aide called them back in to tell them Corker had reached a compromise with Democratic leaders. The threat to block the bill had been dropped for the moment. Family members don't take credit for Corker's decision, but they say they believe their actions helped.

Starting up again, after an unexpected break

My work on this blog, as well as on the book, ground to an unexpected halt some months ago because I suffered a deep personal crisis from which I am at last recovering. For a while, I was unable to work, to function normally, because my 25-year marriage had broken apart.

From now on, though, I will redouble my efforts and push hard to complete this endeavor, to keep my promise to Beverly. The blog will come alive, and each day the pages of the manuscript will increase. This story will be told.

I feel I must apologize, for this book has been much delayed, for a variety of reasons. But the days of delays are over. In the coming days you will read about how this project arose, what Beverly's thoughts were about it, and how I will go about making our dream a reality.

Feel free to contact me with questions, suggestions and information about Beverly's life, her 9/11 reform work, and the Family Steering Committee. I'm eager to get back on track and to organize this mountain of material into the 9/11 story everyone will want to read. Onward!

A Year after the Crash of Flight 3407: A Walk to Remember, A Walk to Promote Airline Safety

On February 12, 2009, Continental Flight 3407 fell from the sky onto a house in Clarence Center, NY, extinguishing 51 lives. One year later, those touched by the tragedy began a day of remembrance at the snow-covered crash site on Long Street, now a peaceful plot of land. They gathered to recall their loved ones with fondness and joy, and walked the ten miles from Clarence Center to Buffalo Niagara International Airport, completing the journey on behalf of those who perished that awful, snowy night. But in addition to keeping bright the memories of those lost lives, the walkers and many onlookers in neighborhoods along the way were also expressing support for the aviation safety reforms that had yet to be implemented by the FAA and Congress, reforms meant to prevent such calamities as that which befell the victims of Flight 3407.

Some of Beverly Eckert’s relatives and friends gathered that morning along with many others at the Clarence Center Fire Hall, whose volunteers were first on the scene of the crash, just 750 feet away. Beverly’s sisters Karen Eckert and Susan Bourque were there. They had spent much of the previous year following closely the official crash investigation and pushing for solutions to the many problems that contributed to the crash, which was operated by regional carrier Colgan Air. Karen and Susan are working with others who became active in promoting airline safety after the crash took their loved ones, and this group was also involved in planning the day’s events. Laurin Maurer had died in the crash, and her father, Scott, and her boyfriend, Kevin Kuwik were active in this group, Families of Continental Flight 3407. But much of the work of planning and putting on the day’s events was done by John Kausner, who lost his daughter, Ellyce (Elly to all). Kausner and his family spent many hours finding local businesses to donate supplies and facilities, coordinating with local jurisdictions to provide safety on the roads, and publicizing not just the event, but the cause of airline safety. Kausner’s daughter, Laura Kausner Voigt, had founded a group called Elly’s Angel’s, whose members handed out red scarves and ribbons to the Flight 3407 family members at the fire hall before the walk, and assisted in many ways during the events of the day.

The day’s events began with the placing of a simple wreath of red and white carnations on a wire stand in the snow at the center of the crash site. Some family members offered impromptu additions to the program. Patrick Pettys, who lost his sister Mary, stood next to the wreath, stretched his arms out to the sides, and fell back into the snow to make a snow angel to symbolize his sister. Someone else then scattered red rose petals on the crash site. And then the walkers walked.

Out front of the procession was Jeffrey Skiles, co-pilot of US Airways Flight 1549, which dramatically ditched in the Hudson River with no loss of life about a month before the crash of flight 3407. Skiles had been working with Families of Flight 3407 in past months because he saw the pressing need to improve regional airline safety through such measures as better pilot training and fatigue management. Skiles told the University at Buffalo’s student newspaper: “I’ve made real friendships here with these people and anybody who knows me knows I do not like to be called a hero,” Skiles said. “People call me a hero – I am not. These people are. You are all my heroes, you will always be my heroes.”

Beverly's sister Margot had decided to undertake this journey in a pair of warm, black boots. They were not quite her size, but because they had belonged to Beverly, she felt it would be meaningful to walk them along this special route.

No one knew quite what to expect along the way. The organizers had initially envisioned a simple affair with just a few family members walking the symbolic path to Flight 3407's destination. But once others heard about the project, it snowballed, so to speak. Not just family members and friends, but members of the community, business leaders and others wanted to participate. And so a simple commemoration grew to be a community-wide call for aviation safety.

Hundreds of people participated in one way or another. There were those who walked, those who helped, and there were many hundreds along the route who waved, held up signs, or otherwise showed their support. About the halfway mark, a group of school children stood in a line along the route and offered their upraised hands to high-five the walkers. "They really invigorated everyone, " said Karen afterward. "The heartwarming thing was that you saw so much support from the community," she added, noting that the Public Broadcasting Service's Frontline series had just aired an excellent program called "Flying Cheap." The hour-long program examined the issue of regional airline safety lapses, with particular attention to the case of Flight 3407. Karen, Susan and other Flight 3407 family members had appeared on the program. It's no surprise that the program was closely followed by the Buffalo-area viewing audience, and that their awareness of the need for airline safety reform was high, said Karen.

There was great relief at the end of the walk. For some, it was taxing both physically and emotionally. "I walked to the point of exhaustion that day too," said Margo Eckert, "the ache in my legs matching the ache in my heart. How can it be that I miss her more now?"

At a press conference at the airport, there were words of gratitude, love and encouragement from family members and political officials. Sen. Charles Schumer had worked with the family members through the year on their safety reform efforts, and had glowing words, greeted by enthusiastic applause. “I am honored and humbled to be in the presence of these families and I pledge in every way to see that their goal – to make sure this never happens again by passing sensible laws and applying the same laws that we apply to the big, commercial airliners, to the commuter airlines – becomes the law of this land” Schumer said.

At 8:30 p.m. there was a ceremony at the Clarence Town Hall where the first responders presented a slide show of their efforts that terrible night, and where family members could offer their words of thanks. The final event of the long day brought those touched by the tragedy back to the plot on Long Street where so many loved ones perished. In the darkness and cold and lightly sprinkling snow they came bearing candles, lit luminarias bearing the names of the victims arranged on the cold, hallowed ground in the shape of a large, looped ribbon as Karen recited the names of the departed, slowly, solemnly. At the moment of the crash, at 10:17 p.m., church bells from near and far began to peal 51 times, but their song was interrupted by the loud roar of a plane flying directly above the crash site.

Margot Eckert said it was the last plane she heard that evening in the flight path. "Snow was falling," she added, "those big flakes, like tears."

Karen later said that in the days leading up to the anniversary, and on the day of the walk itself, she could hear Beverly's voice in her head, saying, "Do the right thing... Make sure this won’t happen again.. I’m gone; you can’t bring me back, but you can do something... It’s important, and the anniversary is an important time to call attention to the fact that things still have to be done..."

So often in life we don't listen hard enough to the voices of the ones we love. But if their message is strong and true, their words will survive even death.

Such joy, such life

I think of Beverly every day.

One year ago, her life ended, but her story was carried on by those whose lives she touched. The story of the jump-roping, hop-scotching sister; the high school poet/artist/basketball player; the strong-handed potter; the assured insurance executive; the partner-for-life of her beloved Sean; generous and exuberant friend and neighbor. And in the final chapter of her life: volunteer and citizen-activist extraordinaire.

And so we will remember Beverly in our own ways. When she remembered Sean, it was with gratitude for their life together, and with a sense of the joy he brought to her life and the lives of others. Today I want to remember Beverly with that same sense of joy. It’s not a difficult thing to do. Looking at the smile on her face puts a smile on mine. The gusto with which she lived her life inspires me to skip, dance and immerse myself in the wonder of something so simple as a setting sun.

Think of Beverly and the snow! A born and bred Buffalo gal, she loved the snow, and missed it when she wintered away from the cold Northeast during her Caribbean cruises. And when she was home, she would immerse herself joyfully in the season. In December 2008 she wrote: “Holidays are a wonderful escape – recapturing the magic of childhood can be intoxicating, and who can resist snow, family gatherings and Christmas trees?” One wonderful wintery image in particular is etched in my memory: Beverly, head tilted back in a full-throated laugh, riding down the small hill in her backyard last January in the most unlikely of conveyances – the hull of a Sunfish sailboat! Just like a kid. “Instead of just storing it,” she wrote, “here’s something I discovered that you can do with a sailboat in wintertime. This is cutting-edge stuff – I just know it’s going to catch on!”

Think of Beverly on the water! One of her favorite ways to relax (“I love the serenity”) was to spend time in her kayak. And like everything else she did, Beverly jumped in with both feet. In the summer of 2004, she wrote: “Kayaking yesterday turned out to be more exciting than I anticipated. One of my friends capsized, dumping herself and a full load of supplies into Long Island Sound. Luckily, we were still close to shore, but that meant we had a large audience of beachgoers, not to mention the eager services of the local lifeguard. Anyway, it was hard to get the kayak out of the water and drained because we couldn't stop laughing.” And other simple joys were never far from the surface of the water. In the autumn of 2008 she wrote: “While kayaking Sunday, I caught a turtle with my bare hands. A tiny turtle, but nonetheless untamed by man until I came along.”

Such joy, such life. Such a joyous life.

A Touching Memorial to a Wonderful Life

Beverly Eckert touched many lives. And especially in this first holiday season without her, I'm struck by how she was able to bring so much to so many.

First and last, she was an eternally devoted wife to Sean Rooney. To the members of her family, she was loving and joyful and constant. Outside of this close family circle, the luckiest ones were invited into the warmth of her friendship, the generosity of her soul, the kindness of her heart. Those who worked at her side -- feeding the hungry, sheltering the poor, improving her neighborhood, tutoring children, making the country safer -- were impressed by her talent, diligence and determination. If Beverly joined in the effort, things got done. Others only knew of her, that she had lost the love of her life on 9/11, worked through her grief to make the country safer, and then died herself in a plane that plummeted from icy skies near the places in Buffalo where, during the course of her wonderful life, she had played, learned, fallen in love and reunited regularly with her loved ones for such occasions as holidays, weddings, births and deaths.

One person who was touched by Beverly is Anne Goslin, who was one of the principal organizers of a modest and touching event October 31st during which Beverly's memory was celebrated and set into stone. Anne had at first known Beverly only casually as a neighbor in the Glenbrook section of Stamford. But at one meeting of the neighborhood association Beverly spoke about her work for Habitat for Humanity, and encouraged Anne and others to join her on a project in Slidell, Louisiana. During their brief days hammering and sawing and raising the walls and roof of a fine wooden shed, warm bonds were established among the neighbors who were now part of a construction team. "We had such a good time together," Anne recalled recently. Beverly and Anne kept in closer contact thereafter, and on one occasion Anne was touched when Beverly had invited her and her husband for dinner, and she prepared everything from scratch.

After the shock and pain of Beverly's death last February gave way to warm memories of her life, many people whose lives she touched decided there should be some fitting ways to remember her. Employees of the City of Stamford and local businessmen with whom Beverly worked on a number of neighborhood projects came together and created a memorial plaque set into a block of granite. The plaque matched the one Beverly had erected to remember Sean at the Glenbrook train station where he used to depart for his job in the city.

On a cool but pleasant October morning, then, relatives, friends, neighbors and others gathered at the station as part of a city-wide "Make a Difference Day," of cleaning up, recycling, beautifying. They also came to remember a woman who lived a wonderful life and in some way touched them all.

Anne spoke first, recalling those qualities of Beverly's that would be on display if she were taking part in this "Make a Difference Day." She would have been involved in organizing things, Anne said, setting the course, guiding the effort. But Beverly was never one to sit back and let others do the heavy lifting. As Anne had seen firsthand in the hot Louisiana sun, Beverly was more than willing to get her hands dirty. She would have been there, picking up trash, spreading mulch, planting daffodil bulbs. Recalling the way she had met Beverly, and the ease with which Beverly gathered others to herself, Anne said that Beverly would also have made some sort of meaningful personal connection with someone at the event. Finally, after all the work was done, Anne said Beverly would probably suggest a convivial and memorable gathering, perhaps at Monster B's, a lively watering hole hard by the Glenbrook station.

That was Beverly: the organizer, the worker bee, the easy friend, the center of a celebration.

The city's mayor, Dannel P. Malloy recalled Beverly as well, and recounted her legacy of service and selflessness. State Representative Carlo Leone was there. Beverly's family of course helped with the ceremony, as did other members of the neighborhood association. Karen Eckert said the family had set up memorial benches in the town, in places that were special to Beverly. Some 4o lives that Beverly had touched, in large and small ways, gathered, celebrated a life lived well, and dedicated a plaque that now sits like a bookend opposite the station's first memorial plaque. They all sang "On the Street Where You Live," because it was a special song to Beverly and Sean. They planted dozens of daffodil bulbs, which would bloom early in spring and bring color and joy and perhaps touch the lives of those who passed by and saw them in the sun, saw their yellow faces look up to the sky, surrounding the bookend plaques commemorating bookend lives.

Some airline safety measures sought by Flight 3407 families win passage in House

Beverly Eckert often said that she was working hard for 9/11 reform measures because her husband, Sean, did not make it home on September 11th, but she wanted to make sure "someone else's 'Sean' gets to go home" because America would be safer. After Beverly was killed in the crash of Flight 3407, family members of those lost, including Beverly's sisters Karen Eckert and Susan Bourque, vowed to find out why the plane fell so suddenly out of the sky, and how future crashes could be prevented. Karen and Susan have been working hard so that someone's "Beverly" lands safely.

That hope came a step closer to reality on Oct. 14, when the House passed by a wide margin HR 3371, a bill aimed at fixing some of the problems that led not only to the crash of Flight 3407, but of other regional airline disasters. The bill includes provisions to improve pilot training, reduce pilot fatigue, and improve pilot training and licensing records.

Beverly's sisters and other Flight 3407 family members were surprised when the announcement came that the bill was coming up for a vote, and a bit worried that some pilot-training provisions had been altered due to pressure from flight schools. According to an article by Jerry Zremski in the Buffalo News:

But the behind-the-scenes addition of that new language — included at the request of a powerful Florida lawmaker whose district includes a prominent flight school — didn't exactly thrill those who lost loved ones in the February crash of Continental Connection Flight 3407 in Clarence Center.

"This is kind of out of the blue," said Susan Bourque, whose sister, Beverly Eckert, was among the 50 people who died in the crash.

When Karen Eckert learned of the impending House vote, she rushed to Washington so that she could witness it along with other Flight 3407 family members. As she sat in the gallery high above the House chamber and watched the votes in favor mount, she let a photo of her sister Beverly dangle over the railing, so that Beverly could see the legislative victory, and so that the lawmakers could see Beverly.