September 09, 2021
“All we can do is throw our arms around God and hold on”
Rev. James F. Quigley, O.P. ’60, associate alumni chaplain at Providence College, wrote this reflection in 2002 while serving as associate director of the Catholic Center at New York University. Originally published in the Summer 2002 issue of Providence magazine, it tells of his experiences in New York City on Sept. 11, 2001.
By Rev. James F. Quigley, O.P. ’60
It’s about 1:00 a.m., somewhere over the Atlantic. It’s January 1, 2002, and I’m on my way to Rome. I can’t forget September 11 — I don’t want to forget September 11. So, I begin to write down what I remember. It’s all so clear.
I was just leaving for the campus ministry office when CNN announced that a plane had crashed into one of the Twin Towers. I went downstairs and looked down La Guardia Place. The towers were about a mile downtown from where I was. I saw flames and black smoke pouring out of the upper floors of one of the towers. A woman standing next to me began screaming that another plane had hit the second tower and immediately we saw a cloud of black smoke push upward. It was obvious to everyone standing on that corner of Bleecker Street that America had been attacked.
Holy Trinity Chapel at New York University is on the corner of Washington Square South and Thompson Street. We Dominican Friars have been the chaplains here for about the last 15 years. I am helping there this year while completing a book. On the morning of September 11, we opened the doors and people began to go into the chapel to pray. A young Asian woman was in front sobbing. She told me her sister was down near the towers. We prayed.
Out on the street, people were streaming down to the site to see what they could. I stood with one of the chapel staff on the street watching the buildings burn. Someone on a cell phone yelled to us that the Pentagon had been hit. Then the unbelievable — we saw the second tower collapse, then the first tower. I ran upstairs to the office to get some news about what was happening and to pray and to think about what I could do — but I couldn’t stay put. I went back downstairs and there was Brendan.
Go back 13 years. The Beatty family, friends and former students at Providence College, told me to look up an incoming freshman, Brendan Ryan. They told him to introduce himself to me. That didn’t happen until one late afternoon in November in St. Joseph Hall. I had come back from the vice president’s office to that residence hall where I lived. There was some kind of loud disturbance in the corridor, maybe an indoor hockey game. At any rate, I decided to check it out. As I walked down the hall, everyone ran. One poor student was locked out of his room on purpose by his roommates; I cornered him. “What’s going on? Who’s to blame?” The student pointed to another room and said, “It was Brendan Ryan!” A perfect way to meet! I pounded on the door and tried to look mean and tough. The door opened and a grinning student said, “Hi!” I said something like, “If you’re Brendan Ryan, I’m Quigley. You’re three months late in looking me up and you’ve practically lived next door to me all this time.” Brendan said, “You know, I was going to knock on your door today.”
Go back to June 9, 2001. Over the years, Brendan and I became good friends. We often talked about lots of things. When he left Providence College and went on the road as part of the music band The Bogmen, he stayed in touch. When I was in New York, he would meet me for breakfast. I never realized what a hardship that was for him. He played and performed until 3 a.m. and then met me at 8:30 a.m.
Music was one of Brendan’s passions and his life; the other was Kristy Irvine. It was only over time that I came to realize and appreciate the musical talent that he had. Brendan, his brother Billy, P. J. O’Connor, and others were The Bogmen and they succeeded. They cut two CDs, gave concerts, toured the U.S.A., signed a record contract with Arista. All the while, he would call me to just check in and stay in contact. We would have great conversations about life, religion, spirituality, books, and sports. Last year, Brendan asked me to breakfast to tell me some great news. He had gotten engaged and wanted me to officiate at his wedding.
I had met Kristy Irvine and her sister Kerry at the beach in Southampton one summer and knew Brendan wanted to marry Kristy since he was in St. Anthony’s High School. Kristy’s sisters, Wendy ’88 and Michelle ’96, were friends of mine from PC. I later came to know Tracy, sister number five. Wedding preparations went forward and finally the day arrived. On an early summer afternoon in Westhampton, Long Island, I celebrated the Eucharist and witnessed the matrimony of Kristy and Brendan. It was a happy day and a sacred day, a holy day filled with beauty and love and fun and music. As I left the wedding I thought, “and they lived happily ever after.” And they did ¬— for 94 days.
Then came September 11, 2001. At the NYU Catholic Center, I went back downstairs and there was Brendan. I am absolutely convinced that it was a miracle of Divine Providence that I was at the NYU Center to begin with, and that I came downstairs at that moment. The security guard had told Brendan I was not there or could not be reached. Brendan looked at me and, with a readable pain in his face, said, “Kristy is in Tower Two.” We went back to his apartment. Kerry Irvine was already there and friends began arriving. Brendan pulled me into the bedroom and wanted to pray. He told God he did not want to be selfish — he prayed for everyone killed or hurt. “But God,” he said, “please save Kristy!”
I went to St. Vincent’s Hospital to see if I could do anything. An army of priests was already there. I gave blood and went back to Brendan’s apartment. His friends had begun visiting hospitals in the hope of finding Kristy. But Brendan knew! He had been on a cell phone with Kristy and as they spoke he saw the second plane hit Tower Two. Over the next few days, Kristy’s picture as a bride was circulated and posted on fences and walls. I remember one afternoon walking through Union Square Park. There were pictures of the missing everywhere. As I exited the park, there in front of me on a telephone station was Kristy. I hadn’t expected to come face to face with her picture and when I did, I went numb. I couldn’t catch my breath or move. “No God,” I thought, “This can’t be!”
After September 11, the days and nights seemed to fuse. Brendan went to Huntington with his family and to be with Kristy’s father, Stu, and her sisters and brothers-in-law and friends. I went with all of them to a memorial Mass at St. Patrick’s for Kristy and 26 other parishioners lost in the attack.
Then came Kristy’s Mass. It was the most difficult and heartbreaking Eucharist I have ever celebrated. I will always be grateful to Brendan for asking me to celebrate that Mass. Probably 2,000 people crowded into the church, stood in the aisles, stayed on the front steps, and outside on the lawn. Dozens and dozens of Providence College alumni traveled from Chicago, Atlanta, Washington, D.C., Boston, New York, and Costa Rica to be with Brendan, the Irvine sisters, and the Ryans. People wanted to pay respects to an incredible young woman of beauty, intelligence, competence, achievement — a woman of great grace and soul who cared so much for others that, among other things, she had set up a charity — “Secret Smiles” — with two friends, Meredith O’Neill Hassett and Louise Rexer, to help those in need. How many do something like that and keep it secret!
All these good men and women came to comfort Brendan and Stu Irvine, Kristy’s sisters and family, the Ryan family. A heart breaks very silently and the church that day was filled with broken hearts. I did not want to mouth platitudes in my homily. I knew I couldn’t comfort Brendan — no one could! I said that there are times when all we can do is throw our arms around God and hold on for dear life. Brendan’s sister Pam had said to me that even God could not stop crying since 9/11. I urged: dare to believe even in the face of unspeakable evil and sin! Dare to hold on to faith in total darkness, pain, suffering, profound grief! Dare to be Christ! And remember Kristy’s goodness, her zest for life, her joy, her truthfulness, her holiness. You could almost hear God crying that day in St. Patrick’s Church.
Three months after September 11 — or rather 94 days later — Brendan and The Bogmen reunited for a concert to benefit Kristy’s charity, “Secret Smiles.” He and his brother Bill and the other Bogmen, Gordan Gano from the Violent Femmes, and Jen Chapin, daughter of the singer/composer Harry Chapin, put together a wonderful show and CD, with original songs written in Kristy’s memory. I attended my first rock concert in Roman collar at Brendan’s request. He wanted some kind of religious icon visible and told me that I was going to be it! I admit I was a little self-conscious going into Irving Plaza, but once inside met hundreds of Providence College alumni, the Ryan and Irvine families, Huntington friends, and I relaxed.
I now see Brendan often for breakfast or for a beer after work or at Mass at the NYU Catholic Center. He has brought me down to Ground Zero three times and to a memorial service in Carnegie Hall for employees of Sandler O’Neill & Partners, where Kristy worked. Through these experiences I have witnessed the pain of others who lost loved ones on that sad day in September — young women, some pregnant, comforting their young children; good parents trying to be brave as they support their daughter or son and their grandchildren; brothers and sisters numb in pain; friends devastated. Later, at a memorial Mass for the 21 victims of the Providence College family, alumni prayed together at St. Vincent Ferrer Church in New York City. In times of tragedy and grief, the Catholic instinct is to gather in community around the altar and to celebrate Eucharist. We did that — recent and not-so-recent graduates.
Senator Daniel Patrick Moynihan once said, “What’s the sense of being Irish if you don’t realize that the world will break your heart?” Life will go on after 9/11, but it can’t be the same. Sometimes, often, these last few months, I wake up in the middle of the night and wonder why God let this happen. Or I wonder why we give God credit for good things, but let him take a pass for bad things. To so wonder, I guess, is a theology teacher’s curse! I also know God had nothing to do with such evil!
I have never felt so inadequate in my life as a person and as a priest as I have since September 11. I’ve always wanted to stop the hurt or solve the problem or make things better for those I love, or even for those I don’t even know. Anyone becomes a priest because they love God and want to serve his people faithfully. I wanted to dare to be Christ! But I think this time, right now, all we or I can do is throw our arms around God and hold on.
I believe in life; I absolutely believe in resurrection. Death is terribly painful when you lose the one you love with all your heart. But I know, because Jesus has promised us, that death is separation and not forever. My hope and prayer is that my friend Brendan and so many others will hang on to that promise. Kristy did not want to leave, nor did the other thousands of women and men. And from a faith perspective, she and they haven’t. Life has changed but not ended. In a twinkling of an eye, there will be reunion. St. Paul tells us “eye has not seen nor ear heard nor has it even entered into the mind of a person what lies in store for those who love God.” He better be right!
Tomorrow. The pundits tell us nothing will ever be the same for Americans. That’s undoubtedly true for Brendan and others. The days pass and he has already lived more of them without his wife than he did with her. Brendan is going to make it, because he is a brave man of deep faith with incredible family and friends. He has reached down deep inside himself and found immense courage and toughness. I’m sure thousands of others do the same thing every day.
What I find myself praying for now is another miracle. At my age and in my profession, I’ve come to expect miracles. During the Christmas season, the gospel tells us that St. Joseph received a series of dreams from God: to take Mary as his wife; that her child would be the Messiah and Son of God; that he should name him Jesus; that he should first go to Egypt, since Herod sought to kill the child; and that, finally, he should return to live in Nazareth.
I’m praying that God gives Brendan a gentle grace. I pray that in a dream, Kristy will let Brendan know that she is at peace; that she is with God and her mother, Toni; that she misses him; and that she will always love him. I pray that God does that for all those who lost loved ones. If you get a chance, maybe you can pray for that, too!
Father Quigley and Brendan Ryan remain in touch, speaking by phone every two weeks or so. Father reports that Brendan, who lives in Huntington, N.Y., remains active in his music career and will perform a 9-11 memorial concert with his band, The Bogmen, on Saturday, Sept. 11, 2021.
Providence College and 9-11
