New Jersey Living Memorial, A Grove of Remembrance
The 9/11 Memorial Bridge
Empty Sky: NJ State 9/11 Memorial
Conseleya 9/11 Memorial
Dewitt 9/11 Memorial
Montclair State University 9/11 Memorial
East Newark 9/11 Memorial
Fair Haven 9/11 Memorial
Freehold Township 9/11 Living Memorial Tree Grove
The chores I am relieved of…
I am relieved of picking up my Dad up at the train station.
I am relieved of teaching my Dad to sail.
I am relieved of sharing a car with my Dad.
I am relieved of driving my dad when he’s had a drink.
I am relieved of aiding my Dad after a long run.
I am relieved of telling my Dad where I am.
I am relieved of emptying the trash in my Dad’s bathroom.
I am relieved of calling my Dad for permission.
I am relieved of sending a postcard to my Dad if I am on a trip.
I am relieved of being a son to my father.
That is the chore I miss the most.
Poem written by Brad Smith, Karl Smith’s son
New York Times Portraits of Grief
Karl Smith liked all things active: he got his wife, Joanne, started on running, and when they were first dating, they took karate together.
Mr. Smith loved going to the beach and taking out his Hobie Cat boat. And he loved his sons, Karl Jr., 19, and Bradford, 16.
Most mornings, Mr. Smith, 44, had to wake up early for the long commute from Little Silver, N.J., to his job as a municipal bond broker at Cantor Fitzgerald in the World Trade Center.
But on weekends, he took on a different job: "He had this special thing, on weekends, when there would be a bunch of boys sleeping over," said his brother, Buddy Smith. "It might be 12 or 15 hungry young men from the swim team. Karl would make these breakfast menus and type them up, and pass them out the night before. Around election time, I remember, he had a dish on there called the W. In the morning, he'd get up early and make everyone what they wanted."
Karl T. Smith
Karl and I served together as infantry platoon commanders in Kilo Company, Third Battalion, Second Marines, Second Marine Division, at Camp Lejeune. As often happens, we lost touch. I only learned that we lost Karl, or Smitty as he was called, last year when I reconnected with a couple of Marine buddies. As we reminisced about Karl, one thing my friend Dave shared with me that day spoke directly to the essence of Karl. Dave knew Karl worked in the World Trade Center, and that morning, when he learned what had happened, he reached out to Jim Snell, our former Kilo Company Commander. During the conversation, Dave observed that if anyone could make it out, it would be Smitty. Jim interjected, "Dave, he is gone." Dave asked, "Why do you say that?" Jim responded, "Because Smitty would never leave anyone behind." And that was Smitty.
Smitty was one of the best. Rest easy my friend.
Posted by Mitch Price
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