Today is Tuesday...

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Remembering David, Ron, Daniel....

 

Video description:

Uploaded on Sep 5, 2008 These tiles were put up on the fence across the street from St. Vincent's, the hospital in the Village where they waited to take care of the survivors who never came. In case you can't read it, the name on the tile I walked up to at the end is David Reed Gamboa Brandhorst, who was only three years old. His fathers Daniel R. Brandhorst and Ronald Gamboa died with him. I didn't know any of them. I just walked up at a certain point and pointed at the first tile that caught my eye. RIP.

It has been said, "time heals all wounds." I do not agree.
The wounds remain. In time,
the mind, (protecting its sanity), covers them with scar tissue and the pain lessens. But, it is never gone.
-Rose Fitzgerald Kennedy

Ron, Dan,.......David.

“Just five more minutes, Daddy…”
-David

Remembering Today...

....Never forget.

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11

The date of the terrorist attack is frozen on a calendar covered in ash at a bank on Broadway, about a block from the World Trade Center. The bank has not reopened. (By David Karp, AP)

Wordsmith's 9/11 Tribute Video

A bit of a fast edit since.....um....9/11/2007 is almost over.





Crossposted at Flopping Aces

In Honor of David Reed Gamboa-Brandhorst

How many of you remember what it was like to be 3 years old? How many of you can remember what you did just 3 years ago? How many of you have projected 3 years into the future, thinking that 3 years was a long time away to be planning for, that far in advance? How many of you have ever imagined what it would be like if 3 years was the average life expectancy? How would you spend your time if 3 years was all that you had left to live? 4 years to graduate from high school...4 years is the norm to earn an undergraduate degree from college. What could 3 years give you? What could you give back to the world and to your country, in just 3 short years?

David Reed Gamboa-Brandhorst was born June 23, 1998. That same month, an enemy of the United States few Americans knew about, Osama bin Laden, was placed on the FBI's most wanted list. 2 months later, on August 7th, the world saw simultaneous bomb attacks on US embassies in Kenya and Tanzania. 224 were killed, including 12 U.S. citizens. Worst was yet to come...

When I first learned about the 9/11 Tribute, I did not respond right away to it. The idea of blogging a memorial tribute for one of the victims of September 11th seemed too intimidating and too big of a responsibility to commit to. Plus, I had already written a bit about Ronald Gamboa in my 9/11 blogpost last year. But as summer was fast approaching, and it appeared that many bloggers were still needed to fulfill the goal of 2996 bloggers, one for each victim, I decided I did not want to see such a noble effort falter. So I contacted D.C. Roe, the orchestrator and mastermind of this monumental project. I had set my heart on blogging about Ron Gamboa, since that would make my post personal. When D.C. Roe wrote back to me that Ron was already taken, he knew of the personal nature of my request and interest in blogging on Ron. He mentioned that Ron's life partner of 13 years, David Brandhorst, was also taken; but that their 3 year old son, David, was not. I immediately sent back my reply that I would write my tribute post on David.

First, a little background on how I came to know Ron. In the mid 90's, sometime after college, I had taken a part-time job doing security work for The Gap. I traveled the district at first, helping managers train their sales staff in the area of loss prevention. In this way, I began crossing paths with Ron, who was a store manager. When I settled into the Wilshire Gap store, and took a step down to being a part-time lead cashier, I would occasionally see Ron pop in for a visit from his store. The turnover rate for the management staff is rather high. Not necessarily people being fired or quitting; just transferred around. When Ron became my new store manager, he was already familiar to me. Because I only worked Fridays and the weekends, and store managers almost always scheduled themselves for the weekends off, I really didn't see Ron very often. Just on Fridays, and sometimes on a Saturday. He was always in good spirits and smiling at his own wittiness and biting humor...his playful insults always clever, never cruel.

One of the most vivid conversations I remember having with Ron, was one day in his office, he asked me if his son was too young for gymnastics (my primary job was and is coaching at a competitive gymnastics club). I bragged about the benefits of gymnastics training, and Ron bragged about the physical prowess of his son, as only a proud father can do. He felt his son would love gymnastics, and that gymnastics might be good for his son. I told him his son wasn't too young, and that we had programs for babies as soon as they can start walking. I promised to bring him a brochure, which I eventually did, and left in his manager's folder.

I believe September 7th was the last day that I saw Ron. That would have been a Friday. I probably worked the weekend through to Sunday. If I had said goodbye to him that day, it wasn't with the foreknowledge of permanence. I wasn't scheduled to be at the Gap again until the next Friday. Tuesday, our country was reeling and in turmoil. Thursday evening I had the TV on Channel 7, the local ABC affiliate news, and the name of Ron Gamboa was mentioned and I looked up to see briefly a picture of Ron and the front of our Gap store on Wilshire and 20th Street, where a makeshift memorial was set up with an American flag wrapped around a tree and candles and cards and flowers all around it. It was then that I learned that Ron had been a passenger aboard United Airlines Flight 175, the second plane to hit the World Trade Center. Friday morning I went in angry that I was not informed about Ron's death. The managers apologized, saying no one had my current phone number to let me know. I learned that Ron had not been alone, but that he had his partner, Daniel, and their son David with him.

This is very hard to type...

I cannot tell you how painful it is to see so many images over and over again of that second plane hitting the South Tower. That was the moment we all knew it was no accident, and that we Americans were under attack. And for me, any images of that 2nd plane is an image of the moment of murder of Ron, Daniel, and David. It never fails to water my eyes or choke up my voice when I see an image still. The videos can do it too, but there's something about a picture, where it's frozen in time exploding into the Tower that is difficult to stare at without my eyes welling up.

There was a national noonday prayer that first Friday after 9/11, and our store closed its doors shortly before 12pm. I raged inside as we sat around the Memorial outside the store, before we all headed across the street to a local church to bow our heads in national mourning. There I sat, sulked, and smouldered.

I don't handle grief too well, in terms of "letting it out". I'm the kind that bottles it all in and withdraws from others. I skipped the Memorial Service for Ron, Daniel, and David. I knew family members would be there, but I just couldn't bring myself to go (I'm sorry Jeannie). When the Gap Company held a candlelight vigil behind the store, including burying a time capsule in honor of Ron, I reluctantly went, but was mostly withdrawn in my own private grief, aloof and unfriendly.

Well, so that's a little background on the personal nature of why I am deeply proud and honored to be able to celebrate the memory of Ron and Daniel's 3 year old son, David.

Here is what one commenter who knew David wrote at a September 11 Victims site on Sept 13, 2002:

I want ot tell all of you a little somthing about David. My son has had manny surgerys on his feet and gets tired from time to time. David and my son went to the zoo just 2 months before his death. My son was so excited to be with his best little friend David however would get tired from time to time and had to stop and rest. Being that it was David's first time at our Zoo in Seattle I am sure he wanted to take it all in as fast as he could. But as my son would cry that he had to stop and rest and tell his little friend David to go on and he will catch with him. David refused and sat by My 3 years old side and held his hand for what seemed like minutes.What three year old does that???? It is simple and clear to me......a little angel names David. May god bless him and his papa and daddy. We miss you all so much. One small child has changed my babys life and tought him that people will except him the way he is.
Trishana

Another comment on the same site, by Kevin, writes on 3/24/2003:

I took my two small children to a Los Angeles park today for a birthday party. While there, I saw a boulder with a plaque. The plaque explained that the park was dedicated to David Reed Gamboa Brandhorst, who lived nearby and played there often. David would have been about the same age as my son is now. Another boy was sitting on the boulder. He asked his dad what the plaque was for, and the father began to explain, "Well, you remember when those buildings were knocked down?..." It was the kind of talk I've had with my son many times since September 11th.

So David, you are missed and remembered and being met anew every day. A beautiful park is bears your name. And your story will bring home September 11th to other children for decades to come.

Rest in peace.

Since I had pretty much lost contact with all of my old Gap associates who knew Ron, and with so little time to do the fingerwork of tracking people down through myspace (*blech* and *shudder*), I did manage to Google and successfully make contact with one of Ron's sisters, Jeannie Gamboa Merwin. She is my primary source of knowledge on David. Without her help, there would have been precious little concrete information on David.

August 1st was when I signed on to this project; and August 3rd was when I made contact with David's aunt, by e-mail. So I had about a month to write up my post. It pretty much came down to the wire here. Jeannie admitted that this was more difficult than she had thought it would be and I feared I was being intrusive and opening wounds. But she proved gracious enough in answering a series of questions I posed to her 5 days ago. I thought about paraphrasing and reiterating; but I think it would be better to listen to her in her own words. Here it is:

So sorry about the lateness of my reply, but I guess it is harder than I thought it would be. Talking about the events brings everything so close to the surface and all the media attention makes it hard to ignore. To be honest with you, that is the best way I have found to get me through these years without my brother, pure avoidance of the subject of 9/11. I love to talk about Ronald, Dan and David and we remenisce about them often, but the thought of the awful things they went through that day makes me physically ill. I'll do my best to answer your questions:

1. How David came to be adopted and into Ron and Daniel's life.
Ron and Dan adopted David from a relative of Dan's sister's husband. They brought her to California to give birth.

2. A bit about Ron and Daniel, as a background for David.
Ron and Dan had been together for 13 years at the time of their
deaths.

They first met in Hoboken, NJ where they lived until Dan was
transferred to the Los Angeles branch of Price/Waterhouse Coopers where he was an attorney and Ron relocated there with his company, the Gap where he was a store manager. They first had a home in Century City, until they had David and then moved into a bigger home in Hollywood Hills. Dan traveled alot for work and Ron was in charge of running the household. They had a Filipino nanny to help care for David when they were both at work. They were both very family oriented. Every year, even before David was born, we would all go on ski trips together and we'd spend every Thanksgiving and Christmas together, even though we all lived so far apart. Ron, Dan and David attended Catholic mass together as a family every Sunday, even though Dan was not officially Catholic. Dan was like a brother to me. I even named my only son after him and Dan was my son's Godfather. David called Ron "Daddy" and Dan was called "Papa". Ron phoned our mother almost every day just to say hi and to see how she was doing. They were very close and he was her only son. Our father was diagnosed with Colon cancer in June 2001 and Ron came home to Kentucky each month to see him. When we were cleaning out their house, I found 4 more airplane tickets to Kentucky, one each for the next 4 months.

3. Your first memory of David
My sister and I were lucky enough to be visiting them in LA when David was born. We were at the hospital and met the birth mother while she was in labor, and we all went out to dinner a few days after she gave birth. We first saw David in the nursery when he was just a few hours old, and we were there when they brought David home for the first time. David was so beautiful, yet such a big baby! His birth mother was very tall and his birth father was even taller. His hair was blond and his eyes so blue, totally opposite from his Filipino Daddy. They needed a little help taking care of a newborn, as my sister and I already had children of our own. But they were natural fathers and were so excited to finally have him home.

4. Your impressions of the relationship between the 3

Ron and Dan doted on David. He was the world to them, especially to my brother. Ron was always so good with his neice and nephews, so he was a terrific dad. In fact that's why they were in Boston again. They were there 2 weeks before and David loved it so much that he wanted to go back.

His Daddy and Papa loved him so much that they gave him what he wanted and took him back to Boston...

5. David's personality. What he was like; what he liked and disliked.

His favorite things: David was a sweet little boy. Actually, not so little. He towered over his older cousins, but was so loving and gentle. He loved to eat vegetables (my brother was very health conscious) especially tomatos and carrots. At his cousin Nicholas' birthday party, he chose cherry tomatos over cake and ice cream. But when Ron wasn't looking, David would sneak into his grandmother's bedroom and take a few potato chips and he'd tell her "Don't tell Daddy."

6. Any photos/video clips you'd be willing to share.
Will send ASAP. [Jeannie was gracious enough to send two beautiful photos that just brought tears to my eyes and heart- the one above of David sitting on the porch with his toy; and the one below at the end, of him kissing Daddy. I am eternally grateful to Jeannie for her trust in sharing personal photos with me. There have been precious little on the internet.- Wordsmith]

7. Any fond memories of David: The last time I saw David was at Aspen. We had met them there for a ski trip in March 2001. It was his first time skiing and we watched him go down the bunny slope over and over again. He really liked it. After dinner that night, he pulled on me and asked me to sit with him and watch "Toy Story". He was so lovable and cuddly.

8. Anything you'd like to say/add about all 3 of them. Your final
conversation, when you first heard the tragic news, etc.
The last time I talked to my brother was about 2 weeks before he died. He called me on the phone to ask me a question about an old movie. We did that alot, qoute lines from old movies and sing lines from old songs, and when one of us couldn't remember the lyrics or who sang it or what movie it was, we would call the other to find out. It was a quick conversation: "Jeannie, what was the name of the movie with Audrey Hepburn and Humprey Bogart that they just remade?" "Sabrina", I answered. Ron said, "That's it. Thanks. Talk to you later. Bye."

I was at work in Philadelphia when it happened. There was a tv in the waiting area and someone told me about the first crash. I was busy so I didn't think much of it and then someone said that another one crashed and it was a passenger plane from Boston. I called Ron at his home in LA because I knew that Dan travelled so much for work. The nanny answered and said he was not home yet. They were on the way back from Boston. My heart sank and I almost fainted. She said not to worry, they always flew on United and they thought the plane was American Airlines. I said ok and to tell him to call me as soon as they got home. Then I tried his and Dan's cell phones and I kept getting busy signals. I called United to find out if any other flights from Boston had landed safely and they couldn't tell me anything. I called my Mom and sisters but they couldn't reach him either. And it was not like him to not be able to reach. In fact, he would always be the first one to call us. By that afternoon, me and my family were packed in the car and on the way to Kentucky. We still hadn't heard anything from Ron, and by then we knew that it was a United plane that hit the second tower. In wasn't confirmed until 8pm that night that they were on that plane. The next few days were a blur. By November 2001, I had sold my house and business in Philadelphia to move back home to Kentucky to be with my parents and family.

Life will never be the same without Ron, Dan, and David. We miss them so dearly and the pain never ends. We haven't been on a ski trip since Aspen, and the holidays still are sad. They will never be forgotten, and we thank you for honoring David this year and for remembering my brother in the past and future.

Jeannie

Ron, Daniel, and David were 3 fellow Americans who lost their lives on September 11th, 2001, out of 2,996 victims. I thank everyone who has taken the time to read this, to honor their memories; to know that the world was robbed of 3 beautiful souls, one of which had only known the joys of life for 3 years on this earth. In that 3 years, David was blessed and nurtured with a stable, loving family environment; and in kind, he blessed and enriched the lives of his fathers, and everyone who came in contact with him. Even today, 5 years after his passing, he continues to affect lives. Our lives. I hope celebrating the story of his short life on my blog will have affected your life. His memory will always and forever be, engraved upon my heart. God bless Ron, Daniel, and David Gamboa-Brandhorst. God keep their families in grace. Thanks to DC Roe for making sure that the memories of our fellow Americans are remembered and honored.

Jeannie: Thank you! Thank you! Thank you!

Never forget...


I do not see posts up yet, but Daniel and Ronald are to be honored by the following:

Daniel R. Brandhorst is honored by VegasQueen (I have tried Googling, but cannot locate VegasQueen; I have written to DC Roe about the problem). Ronald Gamboa is honored by John Williford

UPDATE (09-15-06): I've been moved by the comments I've read for this post. Some brought tears to my eyes all over again. My thanks to everyone for honoring the memories of David, Ron, and Daniel. I'd like to make mention of a couple of blog posts I found that are noteworthy:

The Saddest Tribute by Jenna. She links to my post and identifies with David's biological mother; she ponders the emotional guilt and grief that a firstmom might feel in having given a child up for adoption, then having that child's life end so abruptly and tragically. It is a very emotionally charged post, Jenna being a firstmother herself.

A recent commenter from Los Angeles, Circuit Mouse, links to my tribute and had written his own observations of 9/11 and remembrance of the California victims; Daniel, Ron, and David in particular. I found this passage fitting to add to this tribute post to the memory of David. Circuit Mouse visits the section of the park renamed the David Reed Gamboa-Brandhorst Children's Garden:

There are flowers adorning the boulder by the playground in West Hollywood Park that serves as a monument to David Reed Gamboa Brandhorst and his parents, Ronald Gamboa and Daniel Brandhorst. For all its simplicity, the boulder with a brass plaque is possibly the most fitting and eloquent monument to 9/11 that I have yet to see. The last words at the bottom of the plaque are familiar ones of David's at the playground, frequently pleading, "Just five more minutes, Daddy."

Remembrance 4 Years Later

4 years to the day. And here we are.
I realize that many on the planet have moved on. After all, other countries have suffered many such losses of their fellow citizens as we had, many times over, through constant warfare, instability, and genocide. But this is our tragedy. And those were our citizens.

When I was younger and less wise, I used to look at the world through a Star Trek utopian idealism. I placed my loyalty to the human race over my loyalty to my fellow countrymen. I don't know if that makes sense. In an ideal world, the boundaries that separate people and nations from one another should just dissolve. We are, after all, brothers of mankind. But the problem is, we do not live in an ideal world. So long as there are corrupt regimes, communist nations, and dictatorships, it is far better for the human race if my loyalties to America come first. What is good for my country, I believe, is good for the world. That may sound arrogant. But after reading Jean Francois Revel's "Anti-Americanism", I feel like a veil has been lifted from my eyes and I see that all the blame-America and self-guilt we have been brainwashed into believing in....is misguided at best. Throughout my schooling, I've been taught to be ashamed of America for enslaving blacks, for continuing to "keep them down", for the genocide of native Americans, for the persecution of other minority groups including the imprisonment of Japanese-Americans into concentration camps (accurate, but not a good choice of connatative wording, considering what the Jews went through under the Nazis); and it continues on into today, in the 21st century. We are told the rest of the world hates us. And we worry about it. We wring our hands over it.

As Jean Francois Revel puts it, America's seeming unilateralism, is due to the rest of the world having failed in our collective, global security. It is America who stands between the civilized world and those who wish to obliterate it.



When university students protest violently against U.S. presence in South Korea, it is utterly mind-boggling that these Korean idealist know-it-alls live in such ignorance of their own history. I can only chalk it up to them having the same brainwashing liberal professors in their schools as we have in our own. Liberal professors who do nothing but theorize and conjecture and are absolutely removed from what has actually worked in the real world. The European model of socialism has been a disaster for Europe. And still...they refuse to listen to facts.

That rant was a bit unexpected. What I really want to talk about, of course, is 9/11.





(Click on the photo)


Credit to PebblePie.






None of us should ever forget; nor allow the memory of that day ever to fade into a faint scar. Should that happen, you should take a knife to it and make fresh the wound....the anger....the loss. I don't ever want that pain to diminish so long as the task of defeating terrorism remains unfinished. Sounds like an impossibility, you say, defeating an ideal? A way of thinking? If you believe that, then you are already defeated.









I wrote the following post on a message board I frequent, back on September 11, 2003:

9/11 Respects and Remembrances

I don't want this to turn into a political debate and I don't mean to get everyone down, but I just felt this was something important to post; something important to me.

Yesterday I was listening to the radio on my drive from work, and the talker was describing an experience of digging through the Twin Towers rubble and finding the body of an adult clutching onto a child's hand...that's all that was there was the child's hand holding hands with the adult; no body. It shook me back to the reality of it all and I felt the tears blur my vision as I was driving. Until then, I hadn't really thought of the "anniversary" of 9/11. It's not like it was a year later. Many Americans, myself included, seem to have short attention spans.

It's important we get on with our lives, but it's also important that we, especially those of us in the United States, not forget. Especially on this day, let's take the time to honor those who fell.

I knew a guy named Ron Gamboa. He traveled with his male companion and their three year old adopted son on the second plane to hit the Towers. He had gone on a weekend trip; a vacation he didn't even want to be on. And just like that, he is gone. I remember the following week of the tragedy, the cover of the TV Guide was a photo of the moment the second plane hit; and all I could think of was that I was staring at the moment of death of someone I know, as it happened.

I don't cry often. In fact, I cry very rarely. But when I think of Ron and his 3 year old....when I think of the image of that little child's hand without a body clutching the hand of the adult's... I feel the tears well up inside like a tidal wave. Personally, I hope those tears will always flow fresh and painful on 9/11 so that I am reminded of what was lost and reminded about how much I love my country.

Was it the poet Dunne, who said, "Every man's death diminishes me, for I am involved in mankind"?

Anyway, I had to let this out. I hope everyone takes a moment out of the day to reflect. God bless those we lost, those who serve, and God bless us all...not just in the US, but all over the world.

(Click the Photo)


And in a mass e-mail that same year, I sent this out to my friends and even to just anyone in my address book who I thought might care even one iota to take pause and listen (some of it reads, essentially the same as what I wrote in that post to the message board):

It's 2:49am as I write. Can't sleep.

Yesterday while driving from the gym, a person on the radio was describing how sifting through the rubble of the Twin Towers, he found an adult body; and in one hand, the adult was clutching the tiny hand of a child....there was no body of the child; just the child's hand. That image shook me back to the reality and horror of that day. The tears blurred my vision as I drove home.

I knew Ron Gamboa. Ron was on a weekend vacation trip he didn't even want to go on. He traveled with his male companion and their 3 year old adopted son. All three perished on the second plane to hit the Towers.

When I think of Ron and his 3 year old...the image of the tiny hand holding hands with the adult's...and when I think of all those who are no longer with us, but should be with us...and those who have had to go on in their absence...it brings back a flood of tears.

The week after the tragedy, I picked up the TV guide and took pause. I looked down at the cover as I dropped it on the counter to pay for it. The cover was a photo of the exact moment the second plane hit the Tower. I was looking at the moment of death of someone I knew; a picture of him being murdered in grand fashion.

I hope this pain never diminishes in me. Not on this day. I want to remember vividly so that I can cherish the moments I have with everyone around me.

On this day, we have nothing to apologize to the rest of the world about.
God bless those who fell; those who have survived on in their absence; those who serve and defend; and those who proudly and unashamedly call themselves Americans. God bless us all.


This is basically two photos showing the moment someone I knew was murdered in senseless, wasteful violence. I cannot fathom what he and his loved ones were going through. Again, his son was only 3!!!


One final tribute....here are thoughts I wrote out, just minutes ago to add (and which I submitted for the remembrance site linked to Ron's picture up above):

I worked with Ron. I knew him when I was a security specialist for the Gap, and he was a manager for another Gap store. When I stepped down to a lead cashier position at the Wilshire Gap, I saw many managers come and go. Eventually, Ron was assigned to my store. I can't say that we had a lot in common or even that we carried on a lot of conversations that weren't work related. But I remember his humor and his respect of me and what I brought to his store; especially, taking into consideration, my previous experience helping the company in the loss prevention department. One personal conversation I do remember having with him, though, is him inquiring and wanting information on gymnastics for his son. He seemed quite serious about it. I taught at a gymnastics club, and brought him a brochure from the gym.

I remember the last time I saw Ron. I think I treated him a bit harshly over something or other. I didn't realize that it would be the last time I would ever see him.

Tuesday, Sept 11th, came and went. I only worked part-time for the Gap, and hadn't been there since the weekend, if memory serves. Apparently the store didn't have my current telephone number (a constant problem for I don't know how long!). Thursday evening, on the news, I heard a mention of "Ron Gamboa" and it was the first I heard about his death. I couldn't believe it. I went into work the next day, and for someone who is known for having a calm and collected personality, I was quite upset and some of my anger spilled over at the staff for not letting me know; for not contacting me about it. I think there was a 12 noon prayer service at the church down the street; maybe it was a national moment of prayer. I remember being numb and going through the motions of it all.

A tree outside the front of the store became the focal point of everyone's grief and condolences. Cards, flowers and candles held vigil over the store there. I remember wandering out to that spot in the middle of the night for no reason other than to weep and stare in silence. Sometimes others would be there. Some that I knew. Some that stopped by were absolute strangers, but bereaved as fellow Americans and as fellow human beings.

Some time later, and a year later as well, we had a Memorial service at the store. It was hard for me. I keep things bottled in and hold back from sharing my grief, other than privately.




My favorite picture.


"If there must be trouble let it be in my day, that my child may have peace."
-Thomas paine

One of the most moving tributes: The Blood of Heroes. Nothing chills me with the searing memory of that day than this piece of work. It makes it personal.



Sometimes when I hear about another death, another tragedy....I am strangely detached. But 9-11....those deaths and that tragedy brings pain to my soul as though I had suffered the loss of members of my own family. And that's as it should be.

Peace and grace to my fellow Americans as we mourn our fallen brethren. Love and mercy to all who have sacrificed, great and small, for the good of this Nation. God forever bless America, Land of the Free.....Home of the Brave.

Amen.


.

"The tree of liberty must be refreshed from time to time with the blood of patriots and tyrants."- Thomas Jefferson