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My dad's first story was about his grandma, Catherine. Catherine came over with her parents from Czechoslovakia when she was only three years old. They settled in a small mining town in Colorado called Florence. At age 15, she was wed to a 24-year-old coal miner and by the age of 21, Catherine already had four children- one of whom was my dad's dad. When Catherine was 31 years old, her husband got killed in a coal mine cave-in from a broken back, leaving her a widow and a single mother.

Catherine raised her four kids on her own, supporting them by being a custodian at a local school, working graveyard shifts to scrape by. My dad recalled not only her life; but his close relationship with his grandma. When my dad's dad (Frank Sr.) got married to my dad's mom, Frank Sr. was working all of the time. My dad's mom was very sick during the span of her short life and also was unable to be there for her three children (my dad and his siblings). Considering the schedule of Frank Sr. and the conditions of my dad's mom, my dad (Frank Jr.), spent a lot of his time with Grandma Catherine.

She would get my dad ready for school for years and he would go over during school for lunch. He fondly remembered her sitting and praying her rosary in her chair and playing cards with her when his dad was working a graveyard shift. He said they had a lot of fun together and were very close, especially considering my dad was the baby of the family.

My dad looks back on those moments, remembering one of the very first and closest relationships he had had in his lifetime. He gushed about how hard of a worker she was, how she did not smoke or drink, and how he got his Christian faith from her. All of these attributes allowed Grandma Catherine to live to the wonderful age of 99, something pretty rare for that time in history.

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My dad, Frank, worked many years at the YMCAs in Colorado and Arizona. When he was fresh out of college with his Business Administration degree, he started working at a YMCA in Lakewood, CO. He was one of five people that worked in this old farmhouse, startup Y. During this time, around 1967, my dad and his first wife, Jerry, were about to have their first child. My dad told Jerry before they got married, he wanted to finish college and get a stable job in order to afford to be a parent and support his child and wife. After college, Jerry and he got married and 11 months later, my oldest sister Susie was born.

To celebrate the birth of his first child, my dad bought nice chocolates to share with the staff. Little did he know that there was a family of skunks living underneath this farmhouse. The next day he returned and the chocolates all smelled like skunks from the events of the night before. Defeated, my dad threw out the chocolates and when he returned, his boss told him that he needed to go under the farmhouse himself and scare them off. So under my dad went, with a long pole in hand, crawling and yelling at the skunks to leave. He was successful and not long after that, the farmhouse was brought down and the brand-new Y was built. My dad was happy with his wife and kid, but what was next?

His wife at the time told him that their daughter needed a playmate. My dad was hesitant, seeing as he was just starting out in his new career still but also wanted to give Jerry what she wanted and thought was right. Three years later, my other sister Chris was born. When reflecting on his children being born, my dad remembered his first child's flaming red hair (something they were not expecting) and his second daughter's huge cowlicks (which he told her were from an actual cow!). He talked about how his kids being born meant everything to him and how it was like witnessing a miracle. It gave him a different perspective on life, seeing someone who is half you and half the person you love. I came much later and was adopted by him and my mom (technically my grandparents), but he gushes about me equally, nonetheless.

My dad loves his girls.

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My dad shared a few short but important words of wisdom and life lessons:
1. Never leave for tomorrow what you can do today

His example of this was doing the dishes. He said, "Why would you leave a sink full of dishes for the next day and create more of a pile in the meantime when you can just wash them now? It makes more sense to do things like that right away". While this example had to do with chores, it can be and is applied to many aspects of his life and anyone else's.

2. Cooperate and try and work to a positive solution instead of arguing with people (especially in a work environment)

My dad talked about how important cooperation and compromise are in any working relationship- be it at the workplace or in your personal life.

3. My dad outlined the lessons he learned while playing football throughout his childhood and adolescence: teamwork, humility, believing in yourself

My dad said there were times in practice when you really had to dig deep in order to do the things that were asked of you. This taught him not to give up and to believe in the strength you possess, which will leave you feeling accomplished and proud after. He also mentioned a time when his top 10 school got beat by a small farm town school when they thought for sure they had it in the bag. He said this taught him to be humble and check your ego. You never know what the situations in life will bring and you could be completely blindsided if your ego is too big. Teamwork was another theme and football showed my dad that working towards goals as a team makes you stronger than if you were alone fighting the same battles. Having people by your side in life can make it much easier to navigate.

3. My dad's advice to parents:

Listen to your kids, try not to be judgmental, and always be supportive. Don't tell your kids "You can't do that, you can't do this, that makes no sense" because they have to make their own mistakes and grow from them. He said not to let your fear and protectiveness as parents interfere with your kid's ability to express their free will and experience life.

4. Trust your intuition/conscience

For this piece of advice, he chose to talk about my adoption. He talked about how he was just retiring and was looking forward to that but then, with the issues surrounding the situation, was asked to take me in so that I could remain with family. He was not sure at first if he could commit to something like this at his age, raising an infant well into his 50s but he said that his conscience told him it was the right thing to do. Him and my mom decided that they would take me, keep me out of foster care, and raise/eventually adopt me as their own. He said simply to sum it up: "You'll known when something is the right decision"

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My dad did not have too many negative things to say about his societal views, other than a few things we have already covered in class. He said that sometimes, in certain environments with younger people, they look down on you. I explained to him how this is an example of ageism, something he did not know had a name. He explained that even though he has not experienced much ageism during his life, he knows a lot of people think that older adults are "not with it" and "don't have the same thoughts and feelings as everybody else". He also mentioned how elders in other societies are highly respected, which I also told him we have learned about.

Overall, he attributed a lot of our societal views on aging and the decrease in respect as people grow older to the mindset of being valuable. Given that the US is a capitalist society, where value is placed on people based on their ability to contribute to the economy, once you are deemed nonvaluable, respect is lost. Even though, as we know, older people do not contribute any less. He also talked about how it seems that in our society, people are selfish and worry about only what is good for them, which is a narrative that older adults get left out of.

Despite these things and considering how advantageous a positive mindset and views can be on aging, my dad talked about how his life has been positive. He gets a lot of respect from his and my mom's family which makes him feel "good". The personal respect and support also make him feel like he has done good in his life and that the things he has done do not go unrecognized. These things all contribute to his positive outlook on aging and the graceful nature of that process for him.

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The first impactful event my dad mentioned was 9/11. he was sitting upstairs, drinking coffee and reading paper at 8 am when the news cast showed the first plane hitting the first tower. They said that it was a horrible accident and my dad kept watching. Time passed, then the second plane hit the other tower, reports after of additional planes hitting other places and crashing. He called down to my mom and told her there was a terrorist attack happening and that this was not an accident.

He said he was mad and didn't know why or who had done it at the time. "It reminded you that there are people who really hate America", he said. My dad thought that the US was too relaxed at that time, thinking that because of their power, they had nothing to be afraid of. He also mentioned how it was upsetting too because that event painted whole people as being like their extremist counterparts which still contributes to Islamophobia today.

https://www.archives.gov/news/articles/national-archives-nyc-september-11

The second event my dad briefly mentioned was the Vietnam war. He saw it as something pointless that ultimately killed many people that did not need to be killed. My dad actually got drafted for this war but was released because he had a hernia.

https://prologue.blogs.archives.gov/2018/01/25/vietnam-the-first-television-war/

The third event my dad talked about was JFK's assassination. He was a 19-year-old college student at the time, sitting in his friend's car and having lunch when it came over the airways. He said this was a huge deal because of how loved JFK was.

https://www.jfklibrary.org/learn/about-jfk/jfk-in-history/november-22-1963-death-of-the-president

References:

9/11 Archives: “In our New York office: A day like no other.” (2021, September 10). National Archives. https://www.archives.gov/news/articles/national-archives-nyc-september-11

Kratz, J. (2020, December 2). Vietnam: The First Television War. Pieces of History. https://prologue.blogs.archives.gov/2018/01/25/vietnam-the-first-television-war/

November 22, 1963: Death of the President | JFK Library. (n.d.). https://www.jfklibrary.org/learn/about-jfk/jfk-in-history/november-22-1963-death-of-the-president

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By Victoria Macchi and Jessie Kratz | National Archives News

WASHINGTON, September 9, 2021 - Writing in a National Archives employee newsletter the month after the September 11, 2001, terrorist attacks, then-Archivist of the United States John W. Carlin noted what indeed would come to pass in the following years:
Someday far in the future, records held by NARA will tell the horrible stories of September 11, 2001, to the generations of Americans who will come after us. These Americans will reflect on how their country was forever changed in one single, devastating day. It is my hope that the records of this time of national tragedy will also reflect the truly amazing resilience, strength, and honor of the Americans who came together as a country to face new challenges.
Here, however, we are reprinting a piece that is close to home for the agency: for the first time on National Archives News, we are publishing the firsthand account from staff at the National Archives at New York City in the weeks following the 9/11 attacks.

Originally written as a dispatch for the employee newsletter by then-director of the National Archives at New York City Robert C. Morris, the words from the director and photos taken by archivist John Celardo live on as a testament to that day. The text is reproduced below in full. Celardo, who has since retired from the agency, has made 23 images he shot that day available to the public.

Editor's Note: This dispatch refers to the location of the National Archives at New York City at 201 Varick Street, which was home to the facility from 1992 to 2012. The area of the Varick Street building was the last line of tall buildings; looking downtown, the much lower buildings of Greenwich Village allowed for a clear view of the World Trade Center. The National Archives at New York City is now located in the Alexander Hamilton U.S. Custom House at 1 Bowling Green in Lower Manhattan.

Robert C. Morris died in 2003.
Dorothy Dougherty, Programs Director for the National Archives at New York City, contributed to this report. This story was updated on September 10, 2021, with a link to John Celardo's photos.
"In our New York office: A day like no other"
ROBERT C. MORRIS Director, New York Office NARA Staff Bulletin, October 12, 2001; No. 499
[Original editor's note] NARA's New York City office, part of the Northeast Region, is in Greenwich Village, just 20 blocks from where the World Trade Center once towered over the city. The 11-person staff there handles an average of 50 researchers a day. But on September 11, 2001, the day of the terrorist attacks on the Trade Center and the Pentagon, life was far from ordinary. Here is an account of that day by Robert C. Morris, director.

As I walked down Hudson Street in Greenwich Village around 7:20 Tuesday morning, September 11, 2001, the twin towers of the World Trade Center were clearly visible in the bright morning sun.

Although not realizing it at the time, I was seeing them intact for the last time. But I barely noticed them.

September 11 was primary day, and I was more concerned about articles in The New York Times on the mayoral race, stem cell research, the darkening economic outlook, and a new book by Weather Underground fugitive Bill Ayers.

Closer to home, two Columbia University history professors were coming at 10 o'clock to discuss our hosting a joint seminar session at the Regional Archives.

NARA's New York office is on the top floor of 201 Varick Street, a 12-story Federal building in the western part of Greenwich Village. When I arrived just before 7:30, most staff members were already settling into their normal routines. For the next hour and a half they checked their email, re-shelved naturalization records, answered reference letters, and assisted researchers in the reading room.

At 8:34 I responded to an inquiry about the best date for a program review. Around 8:45, senior records analyst Karen Lucas began her records management workshop with a short instructional film. A few minutes later, archivist John Celardo was putting the finishing touches on a genealogical inquiry: "Copies of the naturalization records you requested, along with a bill for..."

Then all hell broke loose.

In the stacks, archives technician Joe Majid heard an airplane overhead followed moments later by a loud rumbling. Karen Lucas saw a blinding white light through the drapes in the conference room. And when someone telephoned to say that an airplane had crashed into the World Trade Center, 20 blocks south of us, employees from all over the building began streaming to the café on our floor, where they could get an unrestricted view of lower Manhattan.

We were stunned by what we saw: Smoke billowing from 1 World Trade Center and a gaping hole toward the top of the building. Archivist Greg Plunges informed Karen Lucas what had happened, and she told the workshop participants. One person started screaming that it was a terrorist attack. Another turned on her portable television. People began asking if they were going to be dismissed.

John Celardo instinctively ran back to his office, grabbed our new digital camera, and headed for the roof. He snapped a few pictures, moving from one side of the building to the other to get the best shot. At 9:06, eighteen minutes after the first crash, three staff members saw a second jetliner fly directly into the other tower. With seven pictures still left in the camera, John captured the horrifying moment when a massive ball of orange flames erupted from 2 World Trade Center.

Early news accounts on the radio did not give a definite cause of the initial explosion, but the second crash left little doubt that this was terrorism. Details were still sketchy, however, and after reaching colleagues in Philadelphia and Waltham, I emailed College Park: "It seems that at least one plane has hit the World Trade Center, and both towers are on fire. We are told that all entrances in and out of the city are closed. I can't get through to anyone on the telephone. We will keep you advised." The time was 9:32.

Twenty-seven minutes later the unthinkable happened-the south tower collapsed, sending out shock waves that registered over 2.4 on the seismographs at Columbia University's Lamont-Doherty Earth Observatory. John Celardo saw it happen in seeming slow motion. "The calamity of the event finally hit home," he later recalled. "I fell to my knees and began to sob."

Shortly after the collapse we heard the first announcement from the building manager's office: "The building is secure. We are not in an emergency situation. Please remain at your work stations." I nevertheless decided to dismiss those attending Karen Lucas's workshop and four genealogists who were doing research.

As for the staff, we remained on the floor through one or two more announcements until someone came to the front door and yelled, "WE ARE EVACUATING NOW! LEAVE THE BUILDING NOW!" At 10:23 I emailed College Park and Waltham: "We are evacuating." I made sure the staff was out, told a lone microfilmer in the stacks to leave, locked the door, and headed down to the street, not quite sure how any of us were going to get home.

By the time I reached the street, 1 World Trade Center, had also collapsed. Not even thinking to look back in that direction, I headed straight up Hudson Street to the train station, where other staff members were trying to catch a train to New Jersey. Although the station had closed 15 minutes earlier, crowds continued to mill around in the hope that it would soon re-open.

We waited for more than an hour before eating some sandwiches purchased at a nearby grocery store and heading over to the Hudson River. From there the eight of us walked nearly 30 blocks along the West Side Highway to an improvised ferry service from the Chelsea Piers to Weehawken, New Jersey.

At Weehawken, we and hundreds of other commuters boarded buses bound for Giants Stadium, where other buses were somehow supposed to distribute us. It did not work out exactly as planned, but, beginning with our arrival in the stadium parking lot around 2:30, each of us slowly made our way home. I drove into my garage before 5:00, and the last three staff members reached Bayonne around 7:00.

For the next couple of days, while 201 Varick Street was in the frozen zone below 14th Street, I watched the news and used my telephone and computer to keep in touch.

On Friday morning, after the mayor moved the line down to Canal, John Celardo and I came in and attended a meeting in which the General Services Administration outlined the impact of the disaster on Federal offices in New York. Some were destroyed, many displaced, and all buildings below Canal needed to be inspected.

One test found asbestos on the exterior of a building near the World Trade Center site. Fortunately, 201 Varick showed no signs of damage.

Once the frozen zone was moved, we re-opened to the staff on September 17 and to the public the next day, albeit in a totally different environment.

Our once-anonymous building is now surrounded by police lines and concrete barriers, and even Federal employees have to go through security checks. Houston and King streets are closed to through traffic. No unauthorized vehicles can park around our building. We have had to curtail our extended hours, and the number of researchers is roughly half of what it was before September 11.

Yet in the wake of the worst terrorist attack in American history, this NARA facility one mile north of ground zero is back at work if not back to normal. That will take much longer.

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9/11 Archives: "In our New York office: A day like no other"

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By Victoria Macchi and Jessie Kratz | National Archives News Enlarge The October 2001 National Archives employee newsletter. The caption reads: "Carol Savo of the New York Office looks back at the burning towers of the World Trade Center from a ferry crossing the Hudson River."

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Frank Sr. (my dad's dad) used to sing "She'll Be Coming Round the Mountain" around the house when my dad was five or six years old.

Frank Sr. also used to sing "That Silver Haired Daddy of Mine" by Gene Autry. To this day, this song makes my dad emotional because it reminds him of the hard life his dad had. It also reminds him of his dad's love for the mountains and the largely solitary life he had, especially after the passing of my dad's mom.

My parent's wedding song is "In This Life" by Collin Raye. This song is special to my dad because it is tied to a great memory with my mom, who has been his rock for nearly 30 years.

My dad and I's song together is "Stranger in My House" by Ronnie Milsap. We always used to listen to this and sing it together when we would drive in the car. It is still special to both of us and evokes nice memories.

My dad could not think of any more specific songs tied to strong feelings but he is the person who exposed me to so many great artists and why I love oldies music so much. From Frank Sinatra to Patsy Cline to Gene Autry, my dad gave me a piece of his life with their music.

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My dad with his firstborn daughter, Susie. Circa 1970

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My dad during his high school football years