I was in the 8th grade at Crossroads Middle School, in Monmouth Junction, New Jersey. It was just like any other morning. I was sitting in my science class, dreading the school day, not knowing it was about to get much worse. Our principal came over the speaker and said that a plane had crashed into one of the two towers. In a panic, my teacher turned on the tv and went to the news. A minute later, we saw the second plane hit the other tower. At that moment, everyone new this was something more than just an accident. The classroom was silent. Complete, terrifying silence. I don't know how much time passed but the next thing I knew, my name was being called because my mom had come to school to get me. As I walked towards the front of the school, a thousand thoughts flew threw my head. My dad worked in manhattan. I don't know how close to the towers he is. I hope he's ok. I reached the car and the very first words mom said were "Don't worry sweetie. Dad is ok." He worked several blocks away. Far from the towers, but he was still stuck in the city. Then mom reminded me that our neighbor Ken worked in the towers. Mom had gotten me because she needed my help.
Ken and Mary Ledee lived next door to us. They had a 3 year old girl named Olivia, who I baby sat every Monday night and whenever they needed me. I loved this girl. She was hilarious and so sweet.
Mom said that she needed me to watch Olivia because Mary needed her help. I was only 13 so I didn't really realize what was going on. Everything was going to be fine, I thought. I just saw Ken last night. He had to be fine. I just played with Olivia and told her that everything was ok, even though it obviously wasn't. What I didn't know was, next door, Mom and Mary were trying to call Ken, his co-workers, and anyone who he might contact, to find someone who had spoken to him. Mary was looking for peace. She just wanted to know that he was ok. That peace would never come. She held onto hope for so long, that he was in a hospital somewhere. He wasn't gone. I spent night after night, playing with Olivia, trying to keep her upbeat and smiling. She could tell that something was wrong though. She new that something was happening. A few weeks later, our entire neighborhood participated in a candlelight ceremony for Ken. Mary made a huge banner that said "Come home, Daddy" and we all wrote little notes to Ken on it. We prayed that he was ok and he would be found and everything would go back to normal. It didn't though. Eventually, the hope that he was alive turned into hope that he would be identified and hope for some closure. Olivia and I spent so much time together. Her mom was, rightfully so, distraught. Olivia would sometimes walk over to my house, knock on the door, and ask to play. I never turned her down. 5 minutes later, Mary would frantically knock on our door and say "Is Olivia here?! I was in the shower and she was gone when I got out." I'm sure that was the last kind of scare Mary needed, but she was always with me. One day, Olivia asked me "Is my Daddy in heaven?" I've never been more terrified in my life. I didn't know what to say. We didn't know for sure that Ken was gone. She was 3 years old. How do I explain this to a 3 year old?
Months and months went by, and no word. Life started to resemble something of normalcy, but it was still this cloud hanging over us. Finally, it happened. Mary was contacted. Dental records confirmed, Ken was gone. There was a funeral. A memorial. Ashes were buried. There was closure. Olivia's daddy was in heaven. Olivia and I remained buddies until they moved to Virginia when she was 5. We visited them once, in Virginia. I loved seeing Mary and Olivia. That was the last time though. It's been 10 years since the tragedy. Olivia is 13 now. She's the same age I was when it all happened.
I wish so much that I could see her and Mary now. I want them to know how much I still love them and think of them often. I want to tell them about how I moved back to Texas, grew up, got married, and now I have a little girl. A very special little girl named Olivia.
When my Olivia grows up, I will tell her the story of Olivia Ledee and she'll know that she was named after a very sweet and very brave girl.
September 11th changed so many peoples lives. I pray for the families who are missing their loved ones even more on this sad anniversary.
In Loving Memory of
Kenneth Charles Ledee.
A friend, a father, a hero.
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