On September 12, 2011, I received a phone call at work from Ed Thompson, my ex-boss at my previous employer. Ed was a native New Yorker, and the first thing I said to him was that on the heels of the World Trade Center disaster it must be an incredibly sad day for all people, but especially for those who lived in NY. His response to me was...
"Yes, especially when your son is at the bottom of the rubble".
His words hit me like buckshot. I was stunned speechless. Ed and Violet Thompson are wonderful people, and now their beloved son Glenn was among the missing and presumed dead. I can't remember my exact response to him, but I knew whatever I said would be unable to give him any measure of comfort.
So below is an excerpt about Glenn that was written in the NY Times.
And to Ed and Vi Thompson; it is my sincere wish that the demise of the perpetrator of your son's death Osama Bin Laden brings you some level of closure. Glenn is in a better place and waiting for you. And I can tell you most assuredly that the cut throat terrorist that tried to take the heart out of America will burn three thousand plus times in eternity.....once for every soul the coward was responsible for taking
World Trade Center
"My Mountain Man" Glenn Thompson loved to be outdoors. He hiked. He fished. He biked. He skied. He climbed Mount Kilimanjaro. And last October, on a mountain pass in the Colorado Rockies, he got down on his knees in the snow (he was wearing shorts) and asked Kai Wittmann to marry him. Mrs. Thompson, as she became when they married in April, has the altitude -- 11,820 feet -- engraved in her engagement ring. Glenn, 44, worked at Cantor Fitzgerald on the 104th floor of 1 World Trade Center. While he enjoyed the camaraderie and the adrenaline rush of trading, Kai said, his work was really a means to an end. His dream was to retire early and move to Colorado. ''He was my mountain man,'' Kai said. ''He was a bond trader and damn good at it. But his heart and soul were outdoors.'' Profile published in THE NEW YORK TIMES on September 21, 2001.
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