By Bob Regan
Ed. note: As the 20-year anniversary of 9/11 arrives this week, retired Lt. Bob Regan of the New York City Fire Department recounts the day that began for him on a golf course before the tragedy took hold.
It was my day off and I was caddying for Rick Hartman in the Met PGA Championship at Inwood Country Club, that gem of a links so close to New York’s Kennedy Airport that you could feel the ground shake when the Concorde flew over. Bobby Jones had won his first major championship at Inwood, the 1923 U.S. Open. And now Rick and fellow pros Darrell Kestner of Deepdale Golf Club and Frank Bensel of Century Country Club had just hit their tee shots on the first hole.
Standing in the middle of that first fairway, we were watching the group in front of us putt out. There wasn’t a cloud in the sky. There were no buildings, no nothing, blocking our view of the World Trade Center. You could see forever … when suddenly we saw smoke going across the horizon right behind the green.
A lot of smoke. I mean, we had a totally clear view of everything. I thought that maybe there’d been a fire on five or six floors of one of the Twin Towers.
Then, Frank’s caddie got a cellphone call from a friend. “A plane crashed into the World Trade Center,” he told us.
Now there was this large explosion. You could hear it miles and miles away, and more smoke filling the sky. I knew it had to be a bomb or something like that to have so much smoke.
Darrell said that he saw a plane hit the second tower.
“Oh my God,” Frank said. “I wonder if it’s terrorism.”
All the players and their caddies were called off the course and took shelter in the Inwood clubhouse.
But I had to leave and leave now. I took an oath to protect the people of the city of New York. Day off or not, I had to get to my firehouse. I knew that the men in my unit who were on duty would be there at the World Trade Center already, or on their way. And I knew that all of us who were off duty this Tuesday would be rushing from all over the place to get to our firehouse. I knew Pat Maloney would be driving in from Massapequa (on Long Island). This was all-hands on duty.
I drove non-stop to our firehouse at the base of the Brooklyn and Manhattan bridges on the Brooklyn side of the East River.
And I had something else to worry about. My wife was a flight attendant for U.S. Airways at the time, and she was flying that day. I knew she was working the shuttle either to Washington or to Boston. I heard that the planes that crashed into the towers were from American and United, and that it was a United plane that crashed into a field in Pennsylvania. Word got to me that she was safe and on the ground.
I called her and left a message that I was on my way to the firehouse and to the city.
I was a member of the FDNY’s Field Comm Unit and had attended many internal meetings dealing with terrorist activity. At the house, I collected all the radios and batteries we could find, and packed them into an old red SUV. Then, 13 fellow firefighters – as many as we could squeeze in – packed into the back of the SUV (I drove and Pat Maloney was in the front seat with me) and off we all went across the Brooklyn Bridge and into Manhattan.
You could see dust everywhere. There was nothing left of the Twin Towers. Only steel. You couldn’t even see a freakin’ doorknob. Only powder. Powder everywhere. And there were fires in surrounding buildings. And people and more people running from those buildings trying to find a safe place. And you could barely see where you were going, the smoke and haze and powder were so dense.
It was horrible. Something none of us who were there can ever forget.
Some 3,000 people lost their lives on that infamous 9/11/2001. God knows how many lives were saved by the fearless actions of firemen and policemen. We lost 353 firemen that day, including 10 from my house.
Those 10 … some were very young and new to the department, not even a year on the job, now with their lives torn away from them, now leaving behind mothers and fathers, sisters and brothers, wives and children. It wasn’t fair.
That day I was on the scene there at the WTC from just after 10:30 a.m. until almost 3 a.m. on 9/12.
There were a whole lot of heroes in action on 9/11.
As I read the names of the people who died on 9/11, it hit me that I had caddied for a number of them. I also had caddied for Jimmy Dunne when he was a young guy over at Meadow Brook. Jimmy was out of his Sandler O’Neill financial investment firm office on the 104th floor of the South Tower that morning, and more than 60 people from his company died in the explosions. Jimmy did a fabulous job rebuilding that business, and his charitable works and charitable contributions have all been off the charts.
I saw Jimmy one day over at Deepdale and said to him, “Mr. Dunne, I’ve followed all you’ve done for people since 9/11 and I’m happy that I know you … and so proud that I caddied for you over at Meadow Brook.”
As I mentioned, I was caddying for Rick Hartman, the pro at Atlantic out in the Hamptons, that Tuesday at Inwood. I grew up caddying at courses all across Long Island and playing whenever I had a spare few hours. My wife still thinks I was out of my mind that day on our honeymoon when I played Ballybunion in a torrential, driving rain. I live near Bethpage and couldn’t play the courses there often enough. My handicap was in the 7-8 range for many years, but now, in retirement, and after some cancer surgeries and two new hips, with a new shoulder coming in November, I’m strictly a volunteer when it comes to golf. That might be me you see working the scoreboard at a local event.
I just love the game.
Top: The Tribute in Light that will mark the 20th anniversary of the attacks on the World Trade Center is tested last week in New York City.
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