May 30, 2002 - New York City

Lacy Sampson looked at her watch. It was nearly time. God, that's all I've got now?lots of time.

"Mom, are we leaving today?"

Lacy looked down at her middle child. Five year old Mandy looked so much like Rachel that Lacy ached every time she looked at her daughter. Her two other children stood quietly behind Mandy, expectant faces raised. Eight year old Ronni, her biological child, was tall for her age, slender and fair, with startling blue eyes and tow-headed. She definitely had the Sampson genes. Mandy and her three year old brother were Rache's biological children and they had Rachel's dark eyes and hair. Yet, somehow, Ronni had Rachel's playful, mischievous personality while Mandy seemed to be much more serious. So far, Daniel seemed to be an easy-going little boy.

Swallowing hard, she looked at her three children and realized this was the reason to keep going. "Yes, sweetheart, we're going today. You three will stay with Aunt Jackie today and then we will go exploring."

Her close friend, Jackie McBride, walked up and put her arms the three younger kids. "I'll make sure they don't get into any trouble today. Are you going to be okay today?" Jackie struggled to keep her voice even. She knew how lucky she had been. She had not lost anyone in her immediate family, but she had lost many friends, including paramedic Rachel Lovato, Lacy's best friend and lover for the last ten years.

"I haven't been down there since? I guess, three or four months. I need to have closure. She pulled on her white gloves and dusted the bill of her cap. She briefly looked down at her uniform and at the neat creases in her trousers. Rachel had always made sure their uniforms were clean and ready. The last eight months had been hell. It still hurt.

Jackie hugged the tall woman. "You've lost weight. You need to eat."

"Now you're sounding like?," she fought back the tears.

"Like Rachel, I know. Go now before we both start crying. Matt's waiting downstairs. We love you." The two women embraced. No other words were spoken. They had already shared enough tears, frustration, anger, and words of encouragement to last a lifetime.


"Well, Lace, I guess it's nearly time," Matt McBride said. Both stared down into the bottom of the huge pit and watched the people gathering around the ambulance. The gray-haired officer looked at his partner and asked, "Sure you won't change your mind? I'm not sure how I will get through morning roster. May not make it 'til retirement." A questioning smile briefly crossed the grizzled detective's face.

"Matt, I want to go home," the tall woman answered. "I want to get away from here and let the kids have a place to grow up without these memories." She hesitated and then continued, "I need to get away from these memories. We need to go home." She put on her hat and stepped into line next to her partner. She looked at the people lining the road from the pit. "Too many memories."

Putting her sunglasses on against the glaring sun, she slowly looked over the faces of colleagues, friends and survivors. She had come to New York after college and become a cop on the beat in New York. Nearly fifteen years later, she held the rank of sergeant and would be eligible for promotion if she would stay on. So many lives had been lost last fall that too many promotion spots had opened up.

Fire fighters and police officers from all the boroughs lined the ramp. All had seen too much loss of life. All had attended too many funerals. Unfortunately, they had also attended too many memorial services for those who were never found. Like Rachel. God, I miss her. It still hurts.

Lacy had to stop her thoughts. It was a familiar road that left her empty and desperate. She had not had a drink in the last three months. Every day was a struggle, but she now knew would survive. She continued to look at the solemn faces standing around her. We will survive!

"You can have desk job if you want," Matt McBride offered. Seeing the strained looking face of his good friend he added, "I can't imagine going to work without you."

Before he could answer, a bell clanged. 10:29 a.m. Both police officers snapped to attention. People along the graded road straightened and fell silent. No one spoke as the solemn ceremony began. Below in the rubble cleared area of the pit, an honor guard carried a flag draped stretcher to the bottom of the road. Slowly the group carrying the stretcher made their last walk up the hill. The empty stretcher representing over seventeen hundred victims who had not been found signaled the end of the effort to find bodies. The end of the months of cleanup. Families and friends of victims had gathered in small and large groups near the top of the road. Many of these people would have no one to bury. They could only stand and watch and grieve. The last vehicle contained the flag-draped steel beams representing the last of the debris.

Lacy Sampson could hear the uncontrolled sobs near her. She would be strong today. Rache, I love you! I will always love you. The tall officer had promised herself that she would not cry. She had spent the last eight months fighting the drinking, the loneliness, the despair. The kids, her friends, the grief of so many had kept her alive. We may be leaving New York but you are going with us. The flag draped stretcher was slowly approaching. Out of the corner of her eye she saw Matt slowly raise his arm in salute. She followed, standing stiff in the warm morning sun, her heart in shattered pieces that only effort kept together. The sobbing nearby became louder. She understood the pain. As the honor guard passed, she slowly returned her arm to her side. I've got to go. I won't survive here without you. I can't look at the skyline without seeing you, without missing you. You are everywhere. Please understand. I need to get the kids away from your parents. Over and over she had argued with herself over the months. In the cavity that had once been her heart, she knew New York was no longer her home. Rachel had always been her home, her harbor.

Ten minutes into the ceremony the silence was broken by the sound of taps being played. The mournful sound floated over the entire area. A bugler from both NYPD and NYFD had been chosen for this moment. NYPD helicopters flew in formation over the site. At the top of the ramp, the stretcher was loaded into a waiting ambulance. Months of pain and a city's tears were in the ambulance driving away from the site.

People on the ramp relaxed and talked softly. "Matt, good luck. If you and your wife ever decide to come out west, you are welcome to stay with us." Lacy Sampson removed her hat and gloves. This would be her last day in this uniform. The truck was packed. She only had to change clothes and pick up the kids.

Matt McBride grabbed the proffered hand. Instead of shaking his partner's hand, he pulled her into a close hug. "Damn, I'm going to miss you. You better stay in touch and you better believe we will be out there." He pulled back and wiped the tears. "What are you going to do with the money?" Millions of dollars had been set aside for the victims and their families. The ladder company Rachel had been with had insisted that Lacy take the money for the kids. She and Rachel had been accepted as part of their extended family, their relationship taken for granted. They wanted to take care of their own. Lacy and the kids were still part of their family. She was still invited to weddings, funerals, parties. Initially she went to still connect in some way with Rachel, but lately she had gone because they had become part of her family. They also made sure she got taken care of financially.

She hated the thought of the money, but she wanted the kids to be okay in case anything happened to her. She had learned how precious life can be. "I've set up accounts for each of the kids. My dad has taken care of it. We'll live for awhile on my parents' ranch but I'll probably buy a place. I want them to have their own home. The youngest is still having nightmares."

In twenty-four years on the force, Matt McBride had never been as close to anyone as he had this young officer. He would miss her. Putting his hand on her shoulder, he added, "Good luck, Lace. May the sun shine on you and your family or something like that. I think there is something about the wind too." He smiled, "Well, it's part of an old Irish blessing. Don't remember the rest."

"God, what kind of Irishman are you? You prefer wine to beer. Your favorite food is pizza. And you listen to opera."

"I know you are not questioning my genealogy!" This was familiar teasing. "Besides I think you may have more Irish in you than just whiskey."

The two friends laughed. Years of working together had built a close friendship and they had become part of each other's families. The past year, however, would bind them together forever. Somewhere in his old Irish heart he had not given up hope that Lacy Sampson would return. That would be an understandable loss, but one he was not ready to acknowledge.

"Are you questioning my genealogy?" Lacy teased back.

"Well, you've got to admit you are pretty hard headed."

The two friends laughed even harder. "I will keep a spot on the force for you," Matt promised.

"Matt, I?"

"No, Lace, don't make any promises?or threats," he smiled before adding, "I just want you to know you have options. And who knows. Maybe, someday?." Maybe someday when she can remember and not hurt. Yeah, when we as a city we can do the same. I don't know if we will ever not hurt. And I know I will never forget.