Remembering Sean Rooney (10 Years Later)

Note: this post, reposted each year at this time, is here as a part of the 2996 Project, a tribute to all the victims of September 11th. Please visit this link for more stories.



Everyone remembers where they were that fateful morning. I was still living with my parents. ES1, then my fiance, had come over as soon as the news broke, so that we could be together. That afternoon, there was in my parents' house, as in many places, a flurry of telephone calls. Everyone was calling everyone else to make sure they were alright.

Our friend AM, who once dated my best friend Pat, called me up. She asked if I had heard anything from Pat's family, since his uncle works in the WTC. I said I hadn't, and proceeded to call his family. I spoke with his mother, who told me a harrowing story.

My best friend's uncle, Sean Rooney, was indeed in the second tower of the WTC. When the first plane hit the first tower, he and his coworkers were told to stay put.

When the second plane hit, they were trapped.

He called his wife, Beverly Eckert. They spent some time talking. Finally, he told her that it was time to say goodbye.

A few seconds later, she heard an explosion, followed by a whoosh. Suddenly, the line went dead.

She turned to her television to see her worst fears confirmed.


A few days later, a memorial service was held at Pat's parents' house in East Aurora. Many stories were told. I spoke with some of his family members to get a few more. Here are a handful, which may perhaps shed some light on this man's life.

Sean Rooney was not a man to waste time. Sean Rooney was not shy. He loved people, he was very outgoing, and he always had one question on his mind: "What can I do to help?"

In the winter of 2000, Sean & his wife drove in from Connecticut to visit. Pat's parents noticed a large object on top of their car. It seems that the last time they were in town, Sean had decided that their bathroom needed a new vanity. He secretly took measurements. Upon his return to Connecticut he proceeded to build one. He then installed it, along with some new tiling. It was called a Christmas present.

He was one of the last true Jacks-of-all-trades. He was known on sight at his local Home Depot. At his own home, their dining room holds a gorgeous table which he built. Every cabinet in their kitchen was installed by him.

His talents also extended to cooking as well. He did all the cooking. One Thanksgiving he made a Turkey dinner for 17 people. Nobody ever turned down one of his meals.

His interests also included golf. Golf was, however, apparently about the only thing he wasn't good at. Nonetheless, he enjoyed it immensely. One day, on a trip to Nantucket, he and Pat's father hit the course. No more than 4 or 5 holes were played before a thick fog rolled in. Sean decided that the course diagram on the scorecards should be accurate enough for navigational purposes. As long as they stayed on the green, they could simply follow the path in the dew to find their balls. They used this method to play the next 4 holes before finally giving up.

One couldn't say enough about his generosity. A friend of his, who lived near him in Connecticut, took a job in New York City. His new abode did not have room for any of his furniture, leaving him with nothing. Sean took his outdoor furniture, which was padded for comfort, and one day drove in and said "here."

Above all, he never dismissed anyone. Not even the person who bagged his groceries escaped his attention. Everyone was treated as a person who was worthy of personal contact. No person was overlooked.

One day, Pat's parents were on a visit to Sean & Beverly's home in Connecticut. Outside the local supermarket, a street person was pushing a cart full of cans. He hit the curb, overturning the cart, as well as himself. His cans rolled out into the middle of traffic. Without hesitation, Sean stepped out into traffic. With one hand, he held the traffic back. With the other, he helped the others load the cans back into the man's cart.

Most of all, through the memorial service and speaking with his family, I saw the love. I saw the love that he had for his family, friends, and human beings in general. I felt the love that he inspired in all those who knew him. Most of all, I felt myself to be a lesser person for never having known him.

Today, his name lives on. With the help of the Jesuits, Sean's family established a scholarship at Canisius High School, which was Sean's alma mater, as well as Pat's and my own. This scholarship goes to an incoming freshman who either graduated from the Catholic Academy of West Buffalo, or lives on the West Side of Buffalo.

This scholarship was dedicated at a ceremony in his honor. It turned out that Sean's high school friend, Tom Fontana, who had watched the entire event from his home in New Jersey, wanted to help out. He brought along a movie he had just completed, Judas, and it was screened at the event. Also at the event, the first student was given the scholarship. This student had fled with his family from Rwanda in 1995. His parents were from different warring tribes. He was the ideal first recipient.

Sean Rooney's legacy continues to touch the lives of those who knew him, and many who never knew him. He was a great man, whose life was cut short by blind hatred. His memory and legacy, however, will live on long after those who murdered him are forgotten. Standing in contrast to those who hate, is the memory of a man who knew only love. Decades from now, when the names of the violent are confined to grade school textbooks, his legacy will touch the hearts and lives of many deserving young students in the hallowed halls of Canisius. Even then, those who knew him will remember a man of infinite kindness, infinite generosity, and infinite love. Today, let us all take a moment to remember Sean Rooney. He was what we all aspire to be.

A tribute video of him is posted here.

Update: 2009

The Sean Rooney Memorial Scholarship has been running quite smoothly for several years now. I ran into Beverly, who I always knew simply as Aunt Bev, at the funeral of my mentor, Fr. James P. Higgins. She was attending with the family of the first scholarship recipient. Fr. Higgins had been instrumental in setting up the scholarship. We spoke of how life was going. ES1 & I had only 6 months earlier brought our daughter into the world - on the very same day as Pat and his wife Melonie. We were sad that Fr. Higgins had never had a chance to meet either of them.

Only two weeks later, we awoke in the morning to hear that there had been a plane crash near the Buffalo Airport. We were shocked, but didn't think much of it. When we went downstairs to eat breakfast, ES1 checked FaceBook, and saw Melonie's status that she was still shocked about the news. We didn't speak what we were both thinking. We didn't have to. A few minutes later, Fox & Friends announced that Beverly had been on Flight 3407. The statement from her sister, Pat's mother, was "We know she was on the plane; now she is with Sean."

My own post from the time is here. The official website is here. She was instrumental in continuing efforts to determine exactly what mistakes allowed the murderers to do what they did. Her sisters now carry on that work. Never did any of them ever seek vengeance. The only mission was to make sure that no one else had to suffer what they did. Any who knew them are blessed. We continue to be blessed by the knowledge that their work will live on. What neither Sauron, Voldemort, Palpatine, nor the White Queen understood, they have proven: love does indeed conquer all.

Updated 9:02 PM 9/11/09 to correct flight number

Here is an NPR story in which Aunt Bev describes there conversation with Sean on this day.

Remembering Sean Rooney

Note: this post, reposted each year at this time, is here as a part of the 2996 Project, a tribute to all the victims of September 11th. Please visit this link for more stories.



Everyone remembers where they were that fateful morning. I was still living with my parents. ES1, then my fiance, had come over as soon as the news broke, so that we could be together. That afternoon, there was in my parents' house, as in many places, a flurry of telephone calls. Everyone was calling everyone else to make sure they were alright.

Our friend AM, who once dated my best friend Pat, called me up. She asked if I had heard anything from Pat's family, since his uncle works in the WTC. I said I hadn't, and proceeded to call his family. I spoke with his mother, who told me a harrowing story.

My best friend's uncle, Sean Rooney, was indeed in the second tower of the WTC. When the first plane hit the first tower, he and his coworkers were told to stay put.

When the second plane hit, they were trapped.

He called his wife, Beverly Eckert. They spent some time talking. Finally, he told her that it was time to say goodbye.

A few seconds later, she heard an explosion, followed by a whoosh. Suddenly, the line went dead.

She turned to her television to see her worst fears confirmed.


A few days later, a memorial service was held at Pat's parents' house in East Aurora. Many stories were told. I spoke with some of his family members to get a few more. Here are a handful, which may perhaps shed some light on this man's life.

Sean Rooney was not a man to waste time. Sean Rooney was not shy. He loved people, he was very outgoing, and he always had one question on his mind: "What can I do to help?"

In the winter of 2000, Sean & his wife drove in from Connecticut to visit. Pat's parents noticed a large object on top of their car. It seems that the last time they were in town, Sean had decided that their bathroom needed a new vanity. He secretly took measurements. Upon his return to Connecticut he proceeded to build one. He then installed it, along with some new tiling. It was called a Christmas present.

He was one of the last true Jacks-of-all-trades. He was known on sight at his local Home Depot. At his own home, their dining room holds a gorgeous table which he built. Every cabinet in their kitchen was installed by him.

His talents also extended to cooking as well. He did all the cooking. One Thanksgiving he made a Turkey dinner for 17 people. Nobody ever turned down one of his meals.

His interests also included golf. Golf was, however, apparently about the only thing he wasn't good at. Nonetheless, he enjoyed it immensely. One day, on a trip to Nantucket, he and Pat's father hit the course. No more than 4 or 5 holes were played before a thick fog rolled in. Sean decided that the course diagram on the scorecards should be accurate enough for navigational purposes. As long as they stayed on the green, they could simply follow the path in the dew to find their balls. They used this method to play the next 4 holes before finally giving up.

One couldn't say enough about his generosity. A friend of his, who lived near him in Connecticut, took a job in New York City. His new abode did not have room for any of his furniture, leaving him with nothing. Sean took his outdoor furniture, which was padded for comfort, and one day drove in and said "here."

Above all, he never dismissed anyone. Not even the person who bagged his groceries escaped his attention. Everyone was treated as a person who was worthy of personal contact. No person was overlooked.

One day, Pat's parents were on a visit to Sean & Beverly's home in Connecticut. Outside the local supermarket, a street person was pushing a cart full of cans. He hit the curb, overturning the cart, as well as himself. His cans rolled out into the middle of traffic. Without hesitation, Sean stepped out into traffic. With one hand, he held the traffic back. With the other, he helped the others load the cans back into the man's cart.

Most of all, through the memorial service and speaking with his family, I saw the love. I saw the love that he had for his family, friends, and human beings in general. I felt the love that he inspired in all those who knew him. Most of all, I felt myself to be a lesser person for never having known him.

Today, his name lives on. With the help of the Jesuits, Sean's family established a scholarship at Canisius High School, which was Sean's alma mater, as well as Pat's and my own. This scholarship goes to an incoming freshman who either graduated from the Catholic Academy of West Buffalo, or lives on the West Side of Buffalo.

This scholarship was dedicated at a ceremony in his honor. It turned out that Sean's high school friend, Tom Fontana, who had watched the entire event from his home in New Jersey, wanted to help out. He brought along a movie he had just completed, Judas, and it was screened at the event. Also at the event, the first student was given the scholarship. This student had fled with his family from Rwanda in 1995. His parents were from different warring tribes. He was the ideal first recipient.

Sean Rooney's legacy continues to touch the lives of those who knew him, and many who never knew him. He was a great man, whose life was cut short by blind hatred. His memory and legacy, however, will live on long after those who murdered him are forgotten. Standing in contrast to those who hate, is the memory of a man who knew only love. Decades from now, when the names of the violent are confined to grade school textbooks, his legacy will touch the hearts and lives of many deserving young students in the hallowed halls of Canisius. Even then, those who knew him will remember a man of infinite kindness, infinite generosity, and infinite love. Today, let us all take a moment to remember Sean Rooney. He was what we all aspire to be.

A tribute video of him is posted here.

Update: 2009

The Sean Rooney Memorial Scholarship has been running quite smoothly for several years now. I ran into Beverly, who I always knew simply as Aunt Bev, at the funeral of my mentor, Fr. James P. Higgins. She was attending with the family of the first scholarship recipient. Fr. Higgins had been instrumental in setting up the scholarship. We spoke of how life was going. ES1 & I had only 6 months earlier brought our daughter into the world - on the very same day as Pat and his wife Melonie. We were sad that Fr. Higgins had never had a chance to meet either of them.

Only two weeks later, we awoke in the morning to hear that there had been a plane crash near the Buffalo Airport. We were shocked, but didn't think much of it. When we went downstairs to eat breakfast, ES1 checked FaceBook, and saw Melonie's status that she was still shocked about the news. We didn't speak what we were both thinking. We didn't have to. A few minutes later, Fox & Friends announced that Beverly had been on Flight 3407. The statement from her sister, Pat's mother, was "We know she was on the plane; now she is with Sean."

My own post from the time is here. The official website is here. She was instrumental in continuing efforts to determine exactly what mistakes allowed the murderers to do what they did. Her sisters now carry on that work. Never did any of them ever seek vengeance. The only mission was to make sure that no one else had to suffer what they did. Any who knew them are blessed. We continue to be blessed by the knowledge that their work will live on. What neither Sauron, Voldemort, Palpatine, nor the White Queen understood, they have proven: love does indeed conquer all.

Updated 9:02 PM 9/11/09 to correct flight number

Remembering Sean Rooney

Note: this post, reposted each year at this time, is here as a part of the 2996 Project, a tribute to all the victims of September 11th. Please visit this link for more stories.



Everyone remembers where they were that fateful morning. I was still living with my parents. ES1, then my fiance, had come over as soon as the news broke, so that we could be together. That afternoon, there was in my parents' house, as in many places, a flurry of telephone calls. Everyone was calling everyone else to make sure they were alright.

Our friend AM, who once dated my best friend Pat, called me up. She asked if I had heard anything from Pat's family, since his uncle works in the WTC. I said I hadn't, and proceeded to call his family. I spoke with his mother, who told me a harrowing story.

My best friend's uncle, Sean Rooney, was indeed in the second tower of the WTC. When the first plane hit the first tower, he and his coworkers were told to stay put.

When the second plane hit, they were trapped.

He called his wife, Beverly Eckert. They spent some time talking. Finally, he told her that it was time to say goodbye.

A few seconds later, she heard an explosion, followed by a whoosh. Suddenly, the line went dead.

She turned to her television to see her worst fears confirmed.


A few days later, a memorial service was held at Pat's parents' house in East Aurora. Many stories were told. I spoke with some of his family members to get a few more. Here are a handful, which may perhaps shed some light on this man's life.

Sean Rooney was not a man to waste time. Sean Rooney was not shy. He loved people, he was very outgoing, and he always had one question on his mind: "What can I do to help?"

In the winter of 2000, Sean & his wife drove in from Connecticut to visit. Pat's parents noticed a large object on top of their car. It seems that the last time they were in town, Sean had decided that their bathroom needed a new vanity. He secretly took measurements. Upon his return to Connecticut he proceeded to build one. He then installed it, along with some new tiling. It was called a Christmas present.

He was one of the last true Jacks-of-all-trades. He was known on sight at his local Home Depot. At his own home, their dining room holds a gorgeous table which he built. Every cabinet in their kitchen was installed by him.

His talents also extended to cooking as well. He did all the cooking. One Thanksgiving he made a Turkey dinner for 17 people. Nobody ever turned down one of his meals.

His interests also included golf. Golf was, however, apparently about the only thing he wasn't good at. Nonetheless, he enjoyed it immensely. One day, on a trip to Nantucket, he and Pat's father hit the course. No more than 4 or 5 holes were played before a thick fog rolled in. Sean decided that the course diagram on the scorecards should be accurate enough for navigational purposes. As long as they stayed on the green, they could simply follow the path in the dew to find their balls. They used this method to play the next 4 holes before finally giving up.

One couldn't say enough about his generosity. A friend of his, who lived near him in Connecticut, took a job in New York City. His new abode did not have room for any of his furniture, leaving him with nothing. Sean took his outdoor furniture, which was padded for comfort, and one day drove in and said "here."

Above all, he never dismissed anyone. Not even the person who bagged his groceries escaped his attention. Everyone was treated as a person who was worthy of personal contact. No person was overlooked.

One day, Pat's parents were on a visit to Sean & Beverly's home in Connecticut. Outside the local supermarket, a street person was pushing a cart full of cans. He hit the curb, overturning the cart, as well as himself. His cans rolled out into the middle of traffic. Without hesitation, Sean stepped out into traffic. With one hand, he held the traffic back. With the other, he helped the others load the cans back into the man's cart.

Most of all, through the memorial service and speaking with his family, I saw the love. I saw the love that he had for his family, friends, and human beings in general. I felt the love that he inspired in all those who knew him. Most of all, I felt myself to be a lesser person for never having known him.

Today, his name lives on. With the help of the Jesuits, Sean's family established a scholarship at Canisius High School, which was Sean's alma mater, as well as Pat's and my own. This scholarship goes to an incoming freshman who either graduated from the Catholic Academy of West Buffalo, or lives on the West Side of Buffalo.

This scholarship was dedicated at a ceremony in his honor. It turned out that Sean's high school friend, Tom Fontana, who had watched the entire event from his home in New Jersey, wanted to help out. He brought along a movie he had just completed, Judas, and it was screened at the event. Also at the event, the first student was given the scholarship. This student had fled with his family from Rwanda in 1995. His parents were from different warring tribes. He was the ideal first recipient.

Sean Rooney's legacy continues to touch the lives of those who knew him, and many who never knew him. He was a great man, whose life was cut short by blind hatred. His memory and legacy, however, will live on long after those who murdered him are forgotten. Standing in contrast to those who hate, is the memory of a man who knew only love. Decades from now, when the names of the violent are confined to grade school textbooks, his legacy will touch the hearts and lives of many deserving young students in the hallowed halls of Canisius. Even then, those who knew him will remember a man of infinite kindness, infinite generosity, and infinite love. Today, let us all take a moment to remember Sean Rooney. He was what we all aspire to be.

A tribute video of him is posted here.

Update: 2009

The Sean Rooney Memorial Scholarship has been running quite smoothly for several years now. I ran into Beverly, who I always knew simply as Aunt Bev, at the funeral of my mentor, Fr. James P. Higgins. She was attending with the family of the first scholarship recipient. Fr. Higgins had been instrumental in setting up the scholarship. We spoke of how life was going. ES1 & I had only 6 months earlier brought our daughter into the world - on the very same day as Pat and his wife Melonie. We were sad that Fr. Higgins had never had a chance to meet either of them.

Only two weeks later, we awoke in the morning to hear that there had been a plane crash near the Buffalo Airport. We were shocked, but didn't think much of it. When we went downstairs to eat breakfast, ES1 checked FaceBook, and saw Melonie's status that she was still shocked about the news. We didn't speak what we were both thinking. We didn't have to. A few minutes later, Fox & Friends announced that Beverly had been on Flight 3407. The statement from her sister, Pat's mother, was "We know she was on the plane; now she is with Sean."

My own post from the time is here. The official website is here. She was instrumental in continuing efforts to determine exactly what mistakes allowed the murderers to do what they did. Her sisters now carry on that work. Never did any of them ever seek vengeance. The only mission was to make sure that no one else had to suffer what they did. Any who knew them are blessed. We continue to be blessed by the knowledge that their work will live on. What neither Sauron, Voldemort, Palpatine, nor the White Queen understood, they have proven: love does indeed conquer all.

Updated 9:02 PM 9/11/09 to correct flight number

Statistical Illiteracy Again

Mark Twain, quoting Benjamin Disraeli, famously said that "There are three kinds of lies: lies, damned lies, and statistics." They were only partially right. Science doesn't lie, people do. Statistics do not lie; people's analyses do.

The chief problem occurs when people try to say that statistics are saying something they're not. Sometimes this is intentional. Other times, people are so set on the conclusion, that they impose it on the data. Worst of all is the confusion of correlation and causation.

I have written about this problem before. To make a long story short, assuming that correlation equals causation would lead people to conclude that carrying a lighter causes lung cancer, that wearing a helmet causes head injuries, and that having wrinkled skin causes drowning.

So it is with a recent, much touted study, in Scientific American. The study claimed that swearing increases one's tolerance for pain. If the article is true, however, the study said nothing of the sort.

Here is the key quote:

During the chilly exercise, they could repeat an expletive of their choice or chant a neutral word. When swearing, the 67 student volunteers reported less pain and on average endured about 40 seconds longer.

According to this, then, the subjects chose whether they were swearing or saying some neutral word. The second sentence is pretty ambiguous, but the first does seem to indicate that they were given a choice of what to do. If so, all that proves is that those using profanity had a greater tolerance for pain.

Even if the students were randomly selected, or if each did both (half swearing first, half not of course), then this still only tells us something about this particular small subgroup of college students who happened to volunteer. Going from the specific to the general is a major logical fallacy. People will make the obvious jokes. MSM outfits will draw wild conclusions. Scientifically, though, all this tells us is that there may be something here. It proves nothing about anything.

The numbers are the numbers. But people are still people.

God Bless Texas

The State Senate of Texas just passed a law banning school districts from giving minimum grades to failing students.

In the district in which I teach, the minimum grade allowable is 50, while the passing grade is 65. What is the result?

1) The student who does 49% of the work is given the same grade as the student who does 0.03% (yes, I have had that happen).

2) A student who manages to get an 80 for the first two quarters can stop working for the rest of the year and still pass the year.

This is just one of many policies designed by gutless administrators to artificially reduce retention rates. It's also one of the first steps in our students long road to learning that life has no consequences.

Don't do any work? We'll pass you along anyway.

Get into fights at school? We'll just tell you not to do it again and send you right back to class?

Can't keep a job because you have no skills or work ethic? We'll just take care of you and every generation that comes after you for the rest of your lives, without you ever having to worry about taking care of yourselves.

Can't afford a house? We'll force banks, under threat of lawsuit, to lend you the money anyway, then call them greedy.

Don't have any money? We'll just steal it from those chumps who sacrifice and work to produce everything you depend on. That's okay! They'll still work just as hard even if they can't keep their money, right?

This is not a recipe for success. This is a recipe for eternal helplessness.

And people wonder why New York State has been hemorrhaging businesses and people for years.

Hat tip: Core Knowledge Blog.

"You Know My Heart"

"I have a radio show. We're really the black Howard Stern. We go at everybody. There was a situation with Miley Cyrus, and I just want to say, I apologize for what I said. I didn't mean it maliciously. You know I'm a comedian. You know my heart."

This is the apology offered by Jamie Foxx for his comments about Miley Cyrus. To most people, that will be considered enough, and nothing more will be said.

Foxx's last words, "You know my heart," are the most damning of the whole statement.

When someone is in a relaxed situation, or intoxicated, their guard is down. If they say something embarrassing, it's not something that comes from nowhere. It is embarrassing precisely because it reveals something they had hoped to keep secret.

This is what is so truly disappointing about slips of the tongue. They reveal things that we wish were not true. Drunken anti-semitic rants and Special Olympics jokes alike reveal distinct deficits of character. They are important not because of what they are, but what they reveal.

He shrugs it off as comedy. Suggesting that a 16-year old make a sex tape is not commonly referred to as comedy. The more common term is pedophilia.

The greatest offense, however, for me is not the insulting nature of the comments, but the sexual nature of them.

As of today, I have been married for 5 years. My daughter is 8.4 months old. At this moment, she is sitting on my lap watching Sesame Street. She bounces up and down with happiness when Elmo appears. She has the same reaction when she watches the Sunny Side Up Show and that darn squeak-toy chicken thing appears. As a father, my outlook of things is colored by what I want my daughter to be exposed to.

It hasn't really been until recently that I have really noticed the hyper-sexualization of our culture. We can't even watch a football game anymore without seeing a Viagra commercial. Many women think that they only way to get anyone to pay attention to them is to dress and act like a sex object. Middle school children walk around in attire which would be underdressed for pole dancing. And, oh yeah, pole dancing is now considered exercise.

And don't even get me started on toddler beauty pageants. The words "institutionalized child abuse" are the politest I can muster on that one.

This is why I can really appreciate someone like Miley Cyrus. Stylish in dress without being too revealing for a teenager. Pretty without being overdone. And, most of all, a comedy style more reminiscent of Lucile Ball than what passes for comedy these days. In other words, wholesome.

Wholesome is a dirty word amongst many segments of the population. That is just sad. A lot of us still live in a world where sex is that thing that happens in the bedroom between married people. Kids are those innocent little things who are learning about the world, and are taught joy and happiness now, because we know that they will learn about pain when they are older. We put away the movies and music with gratuitous language and such because we don't want our kids thinking that that's the normal way to act.

Then there are people who think that sex, drugs, and violence are the normal state of things. The existence of people who don't live like that seems to frighten them. They rejoice when people who profess morals are exposed as hypocrites. People like Larry Flynt actually place bounties on sexual information about politicians. All the while, what they are saying is "Who are you to judge me? You're just as depraved."

Guess what: Most of us aren't that depraved. Why do you get all the attention? Because everyone's staring at you thinking what a bunch of freaks you are. Some will condemn. Some will excuse. Most of us, however, will simply file you in the "ignore" pile, and move on with our lives.

BufBloPoFo09 Day 14

Well, it's been fun ladies and gents. I've had a blast participating again in the BufBloPoFo. I really enjoyed reading what everyone else had to say. I can't wait for next year.