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READ MOREPublished on August 27, 2024 in Share Your Story
Guest Author: Ann S. in New York
I think Harry initially joined the NYPD because he did not care for college and thought it would be a good way to make a living. True to his life philosophy, he made a choice and never looked back. Fortunately for him, Harry loved the job and was good at it. He was a protector to friends and strangers alike. It was innate to him.
He loved being a cop. He was, at his very core, a public servant. If you were a victim, he was the cop you wanted at your door. He was smart. He could evaluate a situation in a split second and react appropriately.
Harry and I met at work. He was a detective, and I was a prosecutor. We were assigned to work together on a long-term investigation. He was a lovely man. He brought me Sweet Tarts and Snapple every day. One night, he offered to drive me home after we worked very late. We had dinner, and our friendship and love story grew from there. Two years later, in 1999, we were married.
On 9/11, when the first plane hit the World Trade Center, Harry was teaching a class at the 111th Precinct. He was back at his Command in the 84 in Brooklyn shortly after the second plane hit. At the same time, shortly before the second plane hit, I arrived at work in Manhattan. The implications of what had happened did not immediately strike me. At first, I thought it was just a terrible accident.
I tried to contact Harry, but the cell towers were down. He was able to contact his sister and let her know he was on his way to lower Manhattan. His Sergeant determined that running over the Brooklyn Bridge was the best course of action. Driving was not an option because of the hordes of people running across the bridge to leave the city.
Harry was in the middle of the Brooklyn Bridge when the first Tower collapsed. He was covered from head to toe in soot and debris and stayed that way for the next 15 hours. I remember that he asked me to call his friends and family, who were police officers and firemen, to see if they were safe.
Harry very rarely spoke of what he saw that day, but he did tell me that the horrific scenes of people jumping out of windows haunted him.
What started as a search and rescue quickly became a crime scene as people realized that whoever did not make it out alive did not survive. It was difficult for the first responders. Many members of the FDNY, NYPD, Port Authority Police, EMS, and 3,000 of their fellow Americans died.
Harry could not believe people from all over the country just wanted to help. They generously gave food, water, massages, boots, whatever people could offer. Harry was worried about the rescue dogs getting hurt. He wanted to make sure they had boots, too. He was relieved that he did not even have to ask, they were donated as well.
Shortly after 9/11, Harry was reassigned to One Police Plaza, two miles from the WTC site. He stayed there until he retired in 2007. At the time, we did not realize how unsafe the air in the area was for breathing.
After Harry retired from the WTC, he went to work as the Assistant Director of Security at New York Presbyterian Hospital in Queens. In 2020, when COVID struck, he was infected with COVID and was hospitalized. Unlike the many unfortunate souls who went into the hospital and never went home, he came back to us.
We thought we had dodged another bullet, but then he started having recurring headaches in July of 2020. An MRI at the time did not show signs of glioblastoma, but the headaches persisted. In early 2021, he started having headaches again. I noticed some cognitive changes as well. He was forgetful and confused at times. In late March, he had another MRI, which showed a tumor in his frontal lobe. On April 6, he had his first brain surgery, and we were later told he had glioblastoma.
After his first surgery, Harry was doing so well. He looked so good that people did not believe he had brain cancer. During that first year, we tried to do anything and everything he wanted to do (within reason 😊). I convinced myself that Harry was going to live until they found a cure. Unfortunately, glioblastoma has its own timetable, and in August 2022, his tumor had grown.
We were quickly enrolled in a clinical trial. Every Monday, we spent 12 hours at Columbia Presbyterian while he received treatment. We called it our date time. Unfortunately, he needed a second brain surgery in October 2022.
Thankfully, we have the best kids in the world. They handled so much on their own, in addition to helping me take care of their dad. We also have amazing friends and family who helped in every way imaginable.
As a wife, it was devastating to watch the love of my life dying. As a parent, I wanted to shield my kids from what was coming, but I also had to prepare them. Time was moving too fast, and the cure was not coming.
As a caregiver, I was thankful that I could show Harry how much he meant to me. There was no comfort that was too great an ask. Throughout our marriage, Harry never wanted to be fussed over. Even when he had COVID, he suggested driving himself to the hospital (of course, that did not happen). With glioblastoma, I had a chance to take care of my best friend, who was leaving me too soon.
Harry was kind. He smiled freely and laughed heartily. Harry was a family man; his kids were his world, and so was I. He was ours. He had a very clear outlook on life; once you made a choice, you lived with it. You did not worry about it and fully accepted the consequences, good or bad.
It is now my life’s mission to help find a cure. I only wish we started on this path sooner. Before Harry was sick, I knew very little about glioblastoma. Now I hear about people who have this terrible disease all the time. Currently, glioblastoma is a disease without a cure, and one day it won’t be. I want to carry out my husband’s legacy of service and be part of the hope that we are getting closer to a cure.
10-13 in NYC police code means an officer in need of assistance. Harry wanted to find a cure for brain tumors — not for himself but for the little children in the St. Jude’s Hospital commercials. Hence, [he was] an officer in need of assistance to help find a cure. In 2023, we had a big walkathon in Harry’s name and raised over $20,000 for the National Brain Tumor Society (NBTS). In 2024, [we had] a social media campaign, 10-13 Donations to Fight Glioblastoma, asking 1,013 people to donate $20 each. I hope by telling a little bit about Harry’s story, more people will donate.
Harry was and will always be the love of my life. He was taken from us too soon. Please donate to NBTS to help find a cure. Let there be a day when glioblastoma is no longer a death sentence.
TAGGED WITH: brain cancer, glioblastoma, #GBMDay
Opinions expressed within this story belong solely to the author and do not reflect the views or opinions of the National Brain Tumor Society.