When the attacks on September 11th happened, I said in its wake to my friends and family all over the country: “There isn’t a New Yorker, and maybe an American and maybe even a citizen of the world who won’t know someone directly impacted by these attacks.” This is a story about one of these people. Ed Schmall.
Last night, on 9/10, the eve of the 10th Anniversary of 9/11, my wife and I had dinner with 2 friends. We had met them during the summer of 2010 and felt such a strong connection with them. We met them at the Cooper-Hewitt Museum’s Summer Garden Party that they hold on Friday nights. All of us are members there and like to take advantage of the museum’s events. These Friday evening parties in the summer make New York City feel quiet and good and right and nice.
Make no mistake, Ed and Marie are not a couple. Marie is a very independent and lovely woman – a grandmother of a few grandkids – with her grown children spread around a little. Ed is similar, though he is only soon to be a grandfather. These people resonate with us because they remind us of a what we’d like to be someday – old school New Yorkers who live fun and robust lives in spite of life long struggles. Marie had suggested that we have dinner with Ed this night.
Ed Schmall is a reminder of some of my heroes. He is part Raymond Jeannotte (my grandfather) and part Joe Mullin (my father-in-law) – all wrapped up in a near 80-year old package – a slight, nebbishy package. Despite his Columbia School of Journalism education, he had to take over the family textile & luggage business. You can tell that Ed is a creative soul. He is class personified. Warm, smart, quick with a good dose of wit and street smarts that a childhood in Brooklyn in the 30s and 40s would provide.
Ed was once married to a woman for 22 years. They divorced because they fell out of love. Simply. As he said last night, ‘I can’t not be in love…’ At almost 80, he can’t not be in love. In my list of attributes, I left out romantic.
Ed met a woman, Donna, in around 1990. Like any good romantic, Ed answered a very well written ad in the New York Review of Books. Ed has written his own ads to be placed in this legendary publication. He even won an award for having done so. He does have that Journalism school education, after all. That’s why when he saw this ad, he knew it was different – about a different sort of person. However, the ad was placed not by Donna, but by her friend. She wanted her young-40s friend – and recent widow – to have a companion and gave Donna this ad as a present for her birthday.
But first, Ed had to pass muster with Donna’s friend and Donna’s friend’s family – let alone Donna. We should all be so lucky to have a friend whose family looks out this much for us. Ed passed the test.
They lived and loved for 10 years…very passionately. We didn’t get too many details about their lives together. Those will come, no doubt. We did hear one funny story, though. After a year or so of dating, and with Ed’s office in the 30s and his apartment in the 20s and with Donna living in the Upper and most Eastern reaches of the East Side, Ed had grown tired of the running around from place to place. Before he said, ‘Why don’t we…’ she was packed. The rest of the sentence was, ‘…move in to my place together.’
The morning of September 11th, Donna said to Ed, ‘How do I look today? I have a big presentation in front of a lot of people…’ He said, ‘You’ve never looked better in your life to me.’ As he said to us, ‘She just had a perfect way about her that morning. She was beaming…her colors were so vibrant.’ As with most days, she headed to her job at AON Insurance and to that meeting on the 104th Floor of Tower Two.
The last time Ed heard from her, Donna said on the phone, ‘I have to go, they’re asking us to leave…’ That was from the 104th Floor. He has some evidence that she was spotted on the 80th floor later that morning, but that’s her last known whereabouts.
When I got to the restaurant last night, no one was there yet. Soon thereafter, Ed turned up. I asked him how he was doing. “I am OK,” he said. As he peeled off his blazer, he pulled out Donna’s passport and the photos therein and then said, ‘My Donna would be mad at me for not moving on…but, I can’t move on from her.’ When the girls showed up – they’d taken in a late afternoon museum – Donna’s passport was still on the table. Marie and Jennifer both asked who it was. The pause was pregnant and Ed said, ‘That was her…’ He said it again, ‘My Donna would be so mad at me for not being married by now…’ I suppose he can’t not be in love.
Post Script: The ultimate irony of all of this was that Donna and my cousin worked together. Debbie Archimbaud worked at AON too and survived that day because she was running late for work. As we sat at dinner, and I learned that Donna worked for AON, I sent a text to Debbie wondering if she knew her. Her text said ‘Yes.’ I probed if she knew her well, ‘Not well, just worked on a couple accounts together. Give him my best.’
When I relayed this to Ed, his eyes beamed. He said, ‘Please tell your cousin what it means to me that she remembers my Donna.’ Ed, I just did. 🙂
Also, read this for excerpt about Donna and Ed from the New York Times’ book Portraits: 9/11/01: http://www.nytimes.com/2001/10/27/national/portraits/POGF-444-28ROTHENBERG.html