I feel as if I'm talking to a ghost. Not just the ghosts of the men from Engine 40/Ladder 35, but the ghost of David Halberstam who was gone within a few years of writing this book. So many lives lost way too soon.

I seem to be on a 9/11 drive, having read [book:The Day the World Came to Town: 9/11 in Gander, Newfoundland|148775] earlier this year and just finishing [book:Thunder Dog: The True Story of a Blind Man, His Guide Dog, and the Triumph of Trust at Ground Zero|9659034] prior to this book. ALthough both of those books moved me, this moved me to ugly tears while riding the Staten Island Ferry.

I liked how the early pages of the book set the tone for the neighborhood's demographic shift. In some ways it's a biography of the building and company as well as the house. The chalkboards with the names are poignant as cover flaps and now I almost feel as if I need to make a pilgrimage.

I liked the way Halberstam worked with the surviving men from the other tours -all but one who went out that morning died- as well as the dead men's spouses to construct profiles that truly brought each of the men to life. No matter how much time I spend on the Upper West Side, I don't think I've ever seen this firehouse. I do feel as if I know all of these men though. Men who no doubt knew they were taking their last ride when they left the firehouse and headed down to Ground Zero within an hour of the first plane hitting.

I see Jack Lynch at what is now the Memorial & Museum but what was then The Hole watching and waiting for them to be able to excavate the area where he knew his son was. I see all those memorials, all those kids who will now grow up without their fathers. I feel as if I know Callahan, Giberson and his boots, Otten, Roberts, Bracken and the Bracken Bounce, Morello and his love of cars, Shea, Ginley, GAry. Buddha, Lynch, Marshall, Mercado and D'Auria. I hope that this book and their memories in their families' hearts and mind keep them alive. Like the Arizona and oil. ( )

I love Halberstam's books and usually make an effort to read them as soon as they come out. His tragic death last year hit hard. This book I postponed reading until recently. I suppose the events of 9/11 needed to be viewed through the distance of time. Even with that lens, it was often difficult to forge on.

The Engine 40, Ladder 35 firehouse was close to where Halberstam lived in New York. Twelve of thirteen who left for the Twin Towers on that day were killed. Halberstam recounts what happened to the men (as best as one can tell) and their families. His book reinforces again how small random decisions often make the difference between life and death. One fireman had worked with a saw on helping a man with bicycle lock for which he had lost the key. During the use of the saw, it had slipped and cut the hand of a fellow firefighter. Because of that injury he wasn't on duty on 9/11. Everyone else was killed. Another man in a different company had a doctor's appointment. He was off duty. Or the story of some firefighters from a different firehouse who exited out of the North tower minutes before it collapsed. Some turned to the north, others to the south and west. Only those who turned north survived.

The impact on the families was huge, perhaps especially on the children who not only lost fathers, but often uncles and friends of the family as well since the firemen had particularly close relationships with other firefighters. Listening to the platitudes of politicians was particularly galling to many of the survivors with their pat encomiums.

These sketchy biographies are hagiographic. If you are looking for an expose or sordid details of one man's divorce or affair or whatever, you won't find it. And that's as it should be ( )

I just finished reading Firehouse, a book by David Halberstam about a New York City firehouse where 12 of the 13 men who responded to the Sept. 11, 2001 attack on the World Trade Center died. The book is beautifully written, and manages to draw a vivid picture of the powerful bonds that unite firefighters with their comrades. It's almost unbearably sad, especially when I stopped to think that for all the impact of the stories of these 13 men, they are but a tiny fraction of the lives that were lost that day.

I would strongly recommend Firehouse to anyone who is interested in a glimpse at the impact of that day on the NYFD. There is little detail about the scene at Ground Zero because little is known about what, exactly, the men of Engine 40/Ladder 35 experienced there. The one member of the firehouse who survived did so with severe injuries, including a concussion, and his memories of the day are incomplete. Most of the book examines both the individual lives of the firefighters who died and the culture of brotherhood that is the modern firehouse.

As good as the book is, though, one thing did trouble me. Although Halberstam tries to portray the firefighters realistically there is still an element of sanctification about their individual lives and stories. There are hints, mere wisps of suggestions, that some of the men may have been less than perfect (in the ways that all of us are less than perfect), but the tone quickly reverts to unstinted admiration. The book was published less than a year after the attacks, so it's understandable that Halberstam did not have the luxury of distance to more objectively draw his portraits. It would be interesting to read an updated version of the book to see where the families and comrades of the firefighters are now, but that won't ever happen given that the author Halberstam was killed a couple of years ago in a traffic accident.

So why does Halberstam's idealization of the firefighters of Engine 35/Ladder 40 bother me? Because none of us are perfect, and by writing as if these men were, Halberstam diminishes their lives. There's no question that it takes a special kind of person to be a firefighter anywhere, let alone New York City, but to pretend they were perfect is as if to say that what they were — strong,tough, proud, brave, sure, but also impatient, angry, intolerant — was not good enough. But all of us deserve to be remembered for who we are, warts and all. Anything less is like watching only half of a movie, or reading random chapters out of a book. We are the sum of our thoughts and actions and emotions, and it's in the experiencing of the full spectrum of life that we are truly alive. ( )

Firehouse tells the story of Engine 40 Ladder 35 who lost 12 fireman on September 11, 2001. Only one member survived with terrible injuries. It details the lives of each of these heroes, their duties; their families; and their jobs. ( )