Hundreds of 9/11 memorial sites have been erected across Long Island. See where they are.
For Joe Ruvolo, the more than 10-foot tall beam from the World Trade Center that stands outside the Hewlett Fire Department firehouse brings up "a mixed bag of emotions."
When it received the beam more than a decade ago, Ruvolo said he felt the firehouse, which did not lose any active members when the Twin Towers fell on Sept. 11, 2001, was "poaching" from a department that did.
The memorial they built around the salvaged wreckage stirs up memories of FDNY firefighter Kevin O'Rourke, who commuted from his Hewlett home to a Brooklyn firehouse, where he had a reputation for fixing bicycles for children in the neighborhood, Ruvolo said. O'Rourke was one of the 343 FDNY members who died on 9/11.
A heavy weight
Like other firefighters of Ruvolo's generation, the gravity of what the rusted metal represents weighs on him.
WHAT NEWSDAY FOUND
- A quarter-century after the Sept. 11, 2001, terrorist attacks, memorials to the dead on Long Island remain a poignant symbol to the living.
- There are currently more than 200 memorials across Long Island honoring those who died.
- Some are dedicated to all victims, while others spotlight specific community members, such as office employees who died when the towers collapsed or first responders lost in the years that followed from illnesses related to their work at Ground Zero.
"One of the responsibilities of the senior members of the community is to keep reminding the younger generation or new generations of our history," said Ruvolo, 65, of Hewlett. "The community did lose a number of people on 9/11, mostly civilians, and they should never be forgotten. Because a lot of the remains of victims of 9/11 were never recovered, this is a place for them to come to and maybe feel like they’re in their presence."
A quarter-century after the attacks, memorials to the dead — many like the one in Hewlett, with a piece of the tower's steel skeleton as the focal point — remain a poignant symbol to the living.
The Hewlett monument sits along Franklin Avenue about 200 feet south of the hamlet's Long Island Rail Road station. In recent years, Thomas Harty has brought his teenage son to the monument as well as the National September 11 Memorial & Museum at Ground Zero. The anger Harty felt 25 years ago Friday has faded over the years. In its place, he said, is sadness. His son Steven, 14, is old enough now to appreciate the staggering loss but also the momentary sense of unity set loose by the attacks.
"He understands the good and the bad," Harty, 69, of Hewlett, said. "The good is the way people came together."

Thomas Harty, left, his grandaughter Zendyia Harty, 3, and son Steven Harty, 14, in front of the 9/11 memorial at the Hewlett Fire Department. Credit: Morgan Campbell
Memorial meaning
Another father, Michael Stayne, hopes his three young sons come to learn a similar lesson when they are old enough to grasp the meaning of the memorial at their local firehouse in Patchogue. The attacks "shouldn’t be forgotten," Stayne said, but he wants younger generations to know even more "about the day after."
"It was no longer Democrat and Republican, it was American," said Stayne, 37. "As sad as that event was, it was nice, the comradery in the days after."
There are currently more than 200 memorials across Long Island honoring those who died in the 9/11 attacks. Some are dedicated to all victims, while others spotlight specific community members, such as office employees who died when the towers collapsed or first responders lost in the years that followed from illnesses related to their work at Ground Zero. Steel beams recovered from the World Trade Center anchor many of the memorials.
Outside the Patchogue Fire Department is one such beam, flanked by a pair of benches where passersby can sit and reflect, or mourn its three volunteer firefighters listed on a nearby placard who died of 9/11-related illness. Patchogue resident Nancy Noto, who lives close by, said she hasn't sat at the memorial "in years," but makes certain she looks at it on her walks.
A section of steel from the World Trade Center is on display at the Patchogue Fire Department memorial. Credit: Newsday/Steve Pfost
"It brings up bad feelings of when it happened," Noto, 55, said of the monument. "I don’t even like to talk about it."
The memorial is easy to miss, set back about 30 feet from residential Jennings Avenue and much farther from nearby Lake Street. It is so inconspicuous that former Air Force Senior Airman Samuel Mariano never knew it was there, despite living on the same block. As Mariano walked his dog, Shilo, on the sidewalk opposite the firehouse, he told a Newsday reporter that he was an infant when the Twin Towers collapsed and grew up "not really understanding how 9/11 affected the world."
A child of 9/11
"I was in the later half of the War On Terror, so now I know the aftereffects of it," Mariano, 25, of Patchogue said. "When you’re older, you understand the sacrifice is something that is much bigger than ourselves. I think it marks a very important part of our history."
Mariano said he had never noticed the memorial but told Newsday he was "glad that it’s there" and said he will "check it out."
"I feel like it’s something that’s kind of fading away as we get farther and farther away from it, but I think it’s something important that people should remember, the sacrifice that was made," Mariano said. "It still affects families to this day."
It also affects those who survived the collapse of the towers and the first responders and volunteers reeling from chronic ailments.
Retired FDNY firefighter Bobby Senn, of Hicksville, led a dozen people out of the Marriott Hotel between the Twin Towers before he became trapped beneath some of the wreckage of the south tower. Senn said he is "happy there are a number of memorials up" so people never forget. But those metal, granite or marble fixtures, even the one at the Hicksville Fire Department where he volunteers, Senn added, are "not for me." His chronic obstructive pulmonary disease and post-traumatic stress disorder are daily reminders of 25 years ago: Watching helplessly as people fell to their deaths, and others, buried alongside him under the rubble of the collapsed south tower but unable to free themselves.

The 9/11 memorial at the Hicksville Fire Department's Station 3. Credit: Barry Sloan
"I would love to crawl into a cave, pull a big rock in front of it and wake up in October," Senn said. "On Sept. 11, I don’t leave my house. I might stop at a couple of cemeteries, but I don’t go anywhere near the memorials. It’s too much of a dog-and-pony show with politicians all over the place."
Senn has made exceptions over the years, such as when he has been invited to speak to high schoolers. Regardless of the day, he’s also willing to personally escort family members and the children of close friends to the National September 11 Memorial & Museum at Ground Zero. He hopes they learn "the innocence that was robbed of a lot of people who just went to work in that building to try and provide for their families." He also hopes they understand the mindset of those who went in to help those workers.
'We’re going to die today'
"As I was driving an officer over the bridge, I looked at 20 floors of fire in the north tower, and I just said to him ‘ ... we’re going to die today. We can’t put that out,’ " Senn recalled. "But no firetrucks, police cars or ambulances stopped and went the other direction. They all knew ‘today’s the day,’ but it didn’t stop them from their commitment."
Sanjay Attada said he will likely walk past the memorial at the Hicksville firehouse on Friday with his son, Adarsh Attada, 15, as they do most days. The memorial dedicated to a pair of volunteers who died on Sept. 11 — FDNY firefighter Terry Farrell, for whom a Huntington Station park was renamed, and Port Authority Police Department Officer George Howard — overlooks the corner of commercial West John Street and residential Strong Street. One recent Monday afternoon, Attada explained to his son and a Newsday reporter how that monument symbolizes the resilience of humanity.
"That period of time, there was a lot of emotions, fear and uncertainty of what was happening and what was going to happen," Sanjay Attada, of Hicksville, said. "With fear, we can’t do much. This [memorial] helps us remember to be strong in the face of any kind of situation in our lives."
While it is most often in the background as he strolls down the sidewalk, when he glances at it, that day comes to "the forefront" of his mind.
"Even though your grandfather’s picture is there at home, you don’t think about him all the time," Attada, said. "But whenever you look at it for a moment, you remember his life and legacy. It’s the same thing here."



