Jerry DeVito. He was 67. That’s what THE LIST says. It says that he was 67 and that he was a Driver. That’s it. A name, and an age, and what he did. I looked. I looked. I looked so HARD….
A N Y T H I N G.
Is that what 9~11 has become?
It has over 2996 names on it. Name after name, after name.They are all there, in neat little letters. All tidy. So precise.
m o r e……
heart wrenching red eyed puffy faced snotty nosed dripping chin
Jerry. He was 67. He was a Father. He was an Uncle. He was a Friend. He was a Husband. He was a Son. He was There. He was alive.
Now, he’s part of it.
I want him to be
Because he’s been lost in all those letters, and ages, and places, and jobs. Lost in that horrible cloud of grey suffocation. Lost in the roar of plane engines. Lost even in the flags that flew for months after.
I did find a few things about Jerry.
Things written over three years ago by people who knew him. loved him.
I don’t know why there wasn’t
Maybe those people have moved on, and don’t need to rethink and revisit that day. I don’t think that I would want to if I were them. I don’t think that they have forgotten. I don’t think that their pain has lessened. I know that for them,
Jerry IS more.
He was always making others laugh.
He was always taking care of friends.
He was a Baseball fan.
He was giving.
He brought donuts EVERY TUESDAY.
He was a hard worker.
He loved life.
He told really good stories.
He worked in Hollywood once upon a time, and owned a cigar store once.
Everyone came to his retirement party even though he really never did REALLY retire.
I know Jerry. I have Grampas like him. Always there with a smile, a laugh.
Hardworking, and full of integrity.
You know Jerry.
He’s the man next door. The guy who you can count on to follow through.
I know that you have heard it before.
Live everyday like it is your last.
I didn’t know Jerry,
but I can tell you that from what I was able to learn about him,
I am pretty sure he did.
I have lived by this rule for quite some time now.
I think though, that I will be adding Donut Tuesday to my list. It’s not much, but it’s a sweet way to remember. To keep Jerry from being swallowed up.
It’s easy to say that you will remember, but it’s easy to let the names and the ages and the places and the planes and the news and the interviews push the
i n d i v i d u a l
To the Friends, and Family, and Nieces, and Nephews, and Daughter, and Son, and Grandchildren, and Wife, and Co-Workers….. I have not forgotten.
I have flown the flag since that day. It never comes down. I have added Jerry’s name to the edge of that flag. And we have Donut Tuesday at our house now. The second Tuesday of every month. May his memory bring you smiles and good thoughts.