2,996 - A Tribute to Abdu Malahi

My father died when I was 7 and a stranger at the funeral told me that every death deserves a set number of tears. He told me that if others cried with me, there are less tears that I need to cry by myself.

I asked this man how many tears each death deserves. He explained that no one has ever been able to count that high but that we will know when it is enough because we will not cry anymore. I can tell you that it took over 10 years for me to stop crying for my father. And now I cry for 2,996…

At least 2,996 of us are crying together… I think we are helping those families so they don’t have to do all the crying that their loved one deserves by themselves.

I signed up for the 2,996 tribute soon after establishing my blog. I am proud to honor Abdu Malahi and have been doing research on Abdu Malahi off and on since June and I have cried many times during my research. I have collected a collage of information on this wonderful man… and I will spend the next 2 days adding to this information to this post, bit-by-bit and tear by tear.

What is a hero? Are they born heroes or do circumstances create them? My journey into Abdu Malahi’s life has convinced me that it is both. We are all born with the ability to be heroes. Some feel the heroic calling before circumstances demand it and make it their life’s mission to be a first responder.

On September 11th, 2001, Abdu Malahi joined first responders and answered the deafening call for heroes:

Despite being told by hotel management to evacute, Abdu took it upon himself to run from floor to floor to see if any guests remained. ~ Donn Monroe

What kind of man in a crisis as devastating as this, decides that the lives of others are more important than his own? This was clearly beyond his job title. He was not a fire fighter, policeman, or search and rescue team, and yet, he wore the same hero’s cape.

What kind of man was Abdu Malahi? His father, Ali, considered Abdu a serious man:

His playful side came out only when he was with close friends or his wife, whom he met when he spent some time in Yemen a few years ago, and his two sons. His wife and sons still live there; Mr. Malahi was trying to get visas for them to come to the United States. ~ Feb 10, 2002, New York Times

Comments left for Abdu Malahi at memorial websites confirm that he was a very formal man, but not in an offensive way - actually, it sounds rather charming. A childhood friend and bandmate, Edward Perez said:

Growing up, Abdu A. Malahi struggled to combine the traditions and culture of his native Yemen with the swagger of a kid raised in Brooklyn, one who loved Prince and played the keyboard in a makeshift band. He dreamed of becoming a recording engineer, and it seemed that Mr. Malahi was finally able to reconcile those roles in his job as an audio-visual engineer at the Marriott Hotel. ~ Feb 10, 2002, New York Times

Through these small windows of information, we get a glimpse of Abdu Malahi’s life. He was first a son and brother, then a friend and a dreamer. He was a New Yorker; a husband and father.

Who was Abdu Malahi? He was ultimately a hero. An angel. An American. A symbol. A reminder. Abdu Malahi was all that we are and all that we strive to be. In death, he proved that he valued life above all else.

To all those that lost someone close to them that horrific day:
Over 2,996 bloggers mourn with you today. May the tears be recorded in this digital time capsule and echo through time for future generations to come.

I am proud to join the 2,996 bloggers. A personal thanks to Dale, Jen, and Justice for countless hours and commitment to remembering.

I WILL NEVER FORGET.

Note: I have not found any contact information for Abdu Malahi’s family or friends, but if they read this tribute and would like anything added at any time in the future I will do so at their request. Also, anyone that was at the WTC’s that day, please feel free to contact me.

“The Lady”

I wonder what she thought
As she stood there, strong and tall.
She couldn’t turn away,
She was forced to watch it all.

Did she long to offer comfort
As her country bled?
With her arm forever frozen
High above her head.

She could not shield her eyes
She could not hide her face
She just stared across the water
Keeping Freedom’s place.

The smell of smoke and terror
Somehow reduced her size
So small within the harbor
But still we recognized…

How dignified and beautiful
On a day so many died
I wonder what she thought,
And I know she must have cried.
~ Author Unknown ~

More September 11 Posts

23 comments September 12th, 2006