For some reason, this song resonates with me today as we all remember those who lost their lives at the World Trade Center five years ago.
I signed up to memorialize one of the victims of 9/11, and tell you what I know about him. William A. Mathesen of Morristown, New Jersey is on my mind today, and I am sure the minds of all of his family and friends. He is survived by his wife Kathy, and his daughters, Emily and Jessica. I have read posts in various places from his sisters, Deborah Moloney and Patricia Sarrantonio. I reached out to those family members that I could, via email, over the summer, and have yet to hear back from them. Like Bill’s family, though, I won’t forget him and will post more as I learn it, and hear back from those who loved him.
Bill’s company, Euro Brokers, remembered him this way:
Life was full of music for William Mathesen, known as Bill.
Bill taught himself to play the guitar and piano and had begun to tackle the harmonica. He loved to write songs and often recorded them. Over the years he wrote music and lyrics for his family using his emotions for life as his inspiration. He frequently joked about starting a family band, with his daughters playing piano and violin and his less-musically-inclined wife flipping the pages.
Bill, 40, first worked with Euro Brokers on the Interest Rate Options desk in the early 1990s. He left for a while, but returned in August 2001 to work on the Repo desk.
Bill was a successful broker, but his real love was entertaining people. As a student at Center Moriches High School on Long Island, he was known for his funny jokes and antics. And as an adult, he told witty stories that evoked roars of laughter. At one of his annual Halloween parties at home in Morristown, New Jersey, the six-foot-tall Bill came dressed as Napoleon and made the other partygoers feed him, saying that taking his hand out of his jacket would spoil the effect. His parties inevitably would end with everyone gathered around Bill’s baby grand piano, singing with him.
I can’t believe, still, that Bill and 2,995 other victims are gone today. Just think of the people who are in particular pain this morning as they re-live the shocking moments of 9/11, and the loss of those they loved.
Instead of the pain, I am focused on my vision of one of Bill’s parties! Perhaps, around the piano, he and his friends would sing this or this.
And, I know that instead of Five Hundred Miles, the loss of Bill and the other victims of 9/11 is felt from much further away. They are all remembered…worldwide.
Peter, Paul and Mary, Five Hundred Miles