Never Forget

I don’t think I’m alone when I say that I’d much rather be talking about football today.

I’d much rather be thinking about how the Jets will exploit the injured secondary of the Dallas Cowboys than thinking about September 11^th. But I can’t do that. This day conjures up such a wide range of emotions for me that I apologize in advance if I screw this up. Over 3,000 people died on this day 10 years ago, but one especially remains in my memory.

Her name was Giovanna "Gennie" Gambale.  She was a native of Carroll Gardens in Brooklyn, NY. She went to elementary school at PS 58. She was born on July 5^th. I tell you all this because she and I have all these three things in common. I never met her, I don’t know her family, but on this day I feel a great loss.

I tried to find out about her through newspapers and other research. One blog entitled “purple fish guts” did an outstanding tribute to her. They make mention of a Newsday article written about her. I came to find out she was a Mets fan and loved the game of baseball:

"Gennie knew her baseball." Studying strategies, trades and team management in her spare time, Giovanna Gambale had an in-depth knowledge of the game, her father said. The 27-year-old vice president of conferences and events for eSpeed seldom lost debates with family members who were Yankee fans and taught some of the men in her family a few things about baseball."She wasn't a casual fan," her father said, as he remembered listening to the outrage in his oldest daughter's voice after a Mets loss or a bad trade.

As a Yankees fan, I’m sure we would have found things to argue about. I’m also positive that I would have looked forward to those debates.

When I think of September 11, 2001, I remember this as being the only day I ever saw my father cry, the tightest my mother ever held me, and Giovanna "Gennie" Gambale. For weeks and months after, I saw her picture everywhere I went. I feel such sadness that she was taken from this earth far too soon. 10 years later, I remember her face as if it were seeing for the first time.

I know this is supposed to be a football blog, but it’s almost impossible not to acknowledge the devastation of this day. In the grand scheme of things, whether or not Mark Sanchez becomes a facsimile of Peyton Manning is irrelevant. A football game will be played tonight, but the greatest victory will not be achieved by the Jets or Cowboys, but by the millions of people who are alive and continue to exemplify the resolve of this great country.

My family will watch the game. My mother and I will root for the Jets. My father will root for the Cowboys. We will mock him for this, but we will take comfort in the fact that he is here and that we are together. We will also mourn those who are not.