Joseph Conor Reagan

"So how's your project going?" Nikki asked Sean.

"I'm short a subjects, but I'm going to film Detective Baker's story Tuesday afternoon while we're out for the in-service day," Sean replied.

Henry suddenly looked up at Frank. "What did you do with Joe's journals?"

Frank looked at Sean. "Didn't you say your teacher said you could use your mom's story?"

Sean nodded since he had his mouth full then swallowed the food. "She did, but I've heard enough from the rest of the family to cover her story." He shrugged. "To tell it again when everyone was so good with it would be a waste."

Frank nodded. "Joe's story is in his journal. Remind me after dinner and I'll find it for you."

After dinner, Frank led his youngest grandchild to Joe's old room and opened the top drawer of the dresser there. He lifted a leather bound book from the drawer and handed it to him. "I didn't find this until after he died," Frank told him. "On days he thought were important, he would fill so many pages with detail. This book," he gestured to the volume he had just given Sean. "Is just about that day."

Sean flipped through it to find that every page was filled with his uncle's neat writing. "Wow," he breathed. "Have you read it?"

"Some of it," he replied.

"I don't know if I can use all this."

"You don't have to read the whole thing on camera," Frank said. "But there are some interesting stories in there from that day."

Sean nodded. "I'll check it out," he said. "Thanks Grandpa."

"You're welcome," Frank replied.

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"Are you ever going to turn the light out?" Jack asked his brother.

"I'm almost done," Sean replied. He glanced at the clock to see that it was almost midnight. "OK, I'm done now."

"What is so interesting?" Jack asked as Sean flipped the lamp off.

"Uncle Joe's journal," he replied.

"What did he have to say?"

"There's a lot of stuff about that day," Sean said. "But I think I know what passage I'm going to use."

"You need any help with it?"

"Yeah," Sean replied. "I could use some help." He sat up to peer through the darkness at his older brother. "It's due Friday and I'll still need to edit it."

"Go to sleep and we'll figure out something tomorrow," Jack ordered.

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Sean finished fiddling with the camera and locked it down to frame Jack the way he wanted to be framed himself.

"I coulda done that," Jack told him.

"I know," Sean replied. "But I'm kind of particular about how I want this done."

Jack nodded as he looked into the tiny screen. "It looks perfect," he said. "So you're just going to record yourself reading the story at his grave?"

"No, I'm going to record a voiceover tomorrow morning to put over some footage of Joe that the producer has over at CBS This Morning, Poppy Morgan, that dad sent me to," he told him. "I'm just going to do an intro here."

"Then I take it you're ready," Jack said. Sean nodded and Jack started the camera recording.

"Not everybody with a story about 9/11 is here to tell it," Sean began. "Like my Uncle Joe." He touched his uncle's gravestone before he went on. "Some died from various illnesses associated with the debris scattered throughout Manhattan that day. More victims of the tragedy. Some, like my uncle, were killed or died for other reasons. Joe was part of the New York Police Department and he was killed eight years after that day in the line of duty." He stopped to hold up the journal. "But he left us his story. This volume is Joseph Reagan's 9/11. In reading the pages, I found his view of my grandfather's story and my father's story and even a bit of the story my mom might have told had she still been here. I haven't the time to read the whole thing for you, but I found a story in it that I thought you would find interesting." He paused to let the hand with the book fall back to his side. "I want to thank Poppy Morgan and the team at CBS This Morning for helping me with the voiceover and finding footage and pictures of my Uncle Joe on that day." He fell silent then nodded for his brother to turn off the camera.

"That was great," Jack told him. "When do you do the voiceover?"

"Tomorrow morning after the show gets over," Sean replied.

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September 11, 2001. Morning breakfast, most important meal of the day, Joe wrote on the first page of his new journal. Two eggs, four sausage, two toaster waffles and a cream-filled donut with sprinkles. I get the feeling I'm going to need it. Weather: clear and sunny. 7:30 a.m. and I predict a wonderful day…

Joe closed the volume and set the pen down before heading out to his job as a NYPD police detective. Later, he would reflect on the word that began what should have been a regular, ordinary day.

What seemed like a lifetime later, Joe stood in front of St Paul's Chapel, covered in dust and looking out to where the World Trade Center Towers had been. He took a deep breath through the protection of the dust mask he wore but could still smell the smoke. In the moment of respite, he heard a girl calling out.

"Mom!" she yelled, sobbing. "I'm here! Please don't be dead!"

Joe grabbed her arm. "Are you OK?"

She looked at him, tears streaking across her dirty face. "I'm looking for my mom," she told him. "She works in the South Tower."

Joe could tell that she hadn't been there when things came down, but he wasn't about to leave her. "Let's go take a look around and see if we can find her," Joe told her.

She nodded furiously and Joe pushed an errant blond hair behind her ear. "What's her name?"

"Maja," the girl replied pronouncing it Ma-ya. "Her name is Maja Janko."

"What's your name?"

"Edit," she replied. "But everyone calls me Eddie."

Joe took her hand a led her into the church. "How old are you Eddie?"

"Seventeen," she replied.

"I take it you go to the high school down the road?"

She nodded. "Do you think my mom was here?"

Joe nodded and debated his next words carefully. He didn't want to say that she might be dead. "If she was hurt," he said. "She probably would have come through here." He stopped next to his sister-in-law. "Linda," he got her attention.

"What's up?" she asked.

"Has a Maja Janko been through here?"

Linda looked at her list and Eddie piped up, "She would have spelled it M-A-J-A," she told the nurse, on the verge of tears. "It's Serbian."

"I'll look for that spelling, too," she smiled at her. She flipped through the pages and didn't find the name. "I don't see it here."

"Maybe she was OK and went to find you at school," Joe suggested. "It's not far."

Eddie nodded furiously and turned to leave. "Let me walk you back," Joe said.

"You don't have to do that," Eddie said. "You're needed here."

"I could use the break," he replied so Eddie nodded.

Walking in silence, Joe escorted the girl back towards her school. "My dad was in the North Tower when it started coming down," Joe told her. "But he made it out."

"Really?"

"Yeah," Joe replied. "He's a cop, too. And my brother." He paused for a few steps. "My other brother is going to school to be a lawyer, but my grandfather was a cop, too."

"That's cool," Eddie said. "Did you go that way because you wanted to or because it was expected?"

"Oh, I wanted to," Joe said. "I wanted to help people the way that they do and did. Help people like you."

"I want to help people," Eddie said.

"That's good," Joe replied. "I hope you do. I'm glad I was here for you, today of all days."

They talked for the remainder of their walk. Eddie told Joe about her mom and dad and Joe spoke about his job. When they made it back to the school, Eddie's teacher ran out and pulled her into a relieved embrace.

"Edit Marie Janko," she said as she pushed the girl away. "Where did you go?"

"She was just looking for her mom," Joe told the teacher. "She's OK."

"Thank you," she replied. "For bringing her back."

"I just pointed out that her mom would probably be looking here for her," Joe said.

"That's true."

"I'm sorry, Mrs. Barnes," Eddie said.

"You OK now?" Joe asked.

Eddie nodded and watched as Joe walked away.

Mrs. Barnes turned to lead her back into the school and Eddie stopped. "Does someone have a key to the snack machines?"

"I think Principal Dawson does," her teacher told her. "Why?"

"I have an idea," Eddie replied as she let Mrs. Dawson lead her back into the school.

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"A couple of hours after I got back to the chapel," Sean read from his uncle's journal. "Two janitors from the school came to the chapel with a couple of ball bins full of food, water and soda. It seems the girl had thought of a way to help us by raiding every snack machine in the school building and sending it down to us with every bottle of water they could find. I'm going to have to send that school a thank you letter."

Sean closed the journal as Poppy gave him a thumbs up. He came out of the sound booth and into the control room.

"It sounds great," Poppy said. "That was a cool story."

"You don't know just how cool," Sean told her.

"Oh yeah?" Poppy said as one of the technicians handed her a USB drive. She gave it to Sean. "This has all of the audio you just recorded plus the video we found for you."

"There will be more than one surprise," Sean said.

Poppy looked thoughtful. "Do you think anyone would mind if we send a news crew over for the presentation?"

Sean looked surprised. "It's just a school project!"

Poppy nodded. "I know but the PC will be there, and I think the surprises you spoke of would make a great human interest story for the show."

"You'd have to call my teacher," Sean said. "And my grandfather."

Poppy nodded. "If they don't like that idea, you should still film it to get the audience reactions to your surprises."

"I'll think about it," Sean replied.