25th anniversary of the 2001 terror attacks — Reflecting on a day that changed everything, Part 2

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This retrospective is a combination of new and previous reporting from The Catholic Missourian.

Kyle Stephan, who is now creative and digital content manager for the Jefferson City diocese, was in fourth grade on the day of the terror attacks of Sept. 11, 2001.

“I remember the days that followed, being shut in our house and always afraid that another attack was going to happen,” he said.

Nonetheless, his faith greatly deepened after 9/11, specifically through moments shared with family and people who lived nearby.

“Our neighbors were second-generation Middle Eastern immigrants,” he recalled. “Because of the color of their skin and the way they dressed, they became targets of hatred. Someone had graffitied hateful slurs on their car and the outside of their house.”

Mr. Stephan’s father went outside at 6 a.m., saw the graffiti and immediately set about washing it off his neighbors’ home and car.

“The neighbor and he cleaned it in silence, and once it was done took us to school for the first time since the attack,” Mr. Stephan recalled.

His father, a war-hardened Marine veteran, quickly realized that hate and vengeance weren’t going to make the world better.

“Watching my father that morning helped me truly understand how God can move through us in the smallest of moments,” said Mr. Stephan.

“It showed me that faith isn’t always found in grand gestures or profound experiences. Sometimes, it is found in choosing love over fear, compassion over hatred, and kindness when it would be easier to turn away.”

“Have mercy”

Father Edward Doyle, now deceased, had served as chaplain on numerous Residents Encounter Christ (REC) weekends in prisons throughout the Jefferson City diocese.

All were powerful manifestations of God’s ardent desire to heal and reconcile, but none was quite like the one held Sept. 14-16, 2001, in the Protective Custody Unity of the old Missouri State Penitentiary in Jefferson City.

Months beforehand, the weekend’s director chose as its theme the song, “Let There Be Peace on Earth,” in honor of her daughter, a peace activist who had recently died.

It turned out to be perfect for an intentional community crying out for solace and serenity immediately following the events of 9/11.

The Scripture readings, scheduled for that Sunday through a cycle set in motion in the 1960s, told of God forgiving King David for his sins, and of Jesus’s parable of the Prodigal Son and the Forgiving Father.

Fr. Doyle preached a homily about the message of Divine Mercy. He showed the men an image of the Risen Christ, radiant in glory, with red and white beams of light streaming from his Most Sacred Heart, which had been pierced with a lance after he died on the cross.

“We are made clean with his Blood and the waters of Baptism,” the priest explained. “It is pleasing for him to save us and forgive us and to make us agents of His unfathomable mercy.”

Only a few of the prison residents on the weekend were Catholic, but all of them hung on the priest’s every word. It was exactly what they needed to hear.

“Bigger than life”

There have been times when Deacon Mammoliti, who responded to the World Trade Center on the day of the attacks, just broke down and cried.

“Yes, I remember the loss,” he said in 2020. “All the emergency workers and the firefighters. And seeing the great solemnity and respect with which they carried Fr. Judge out of the area. That iconic photo you see does not do justice to the reality of that situation. It was bigger than life. It’s something that just stays with you.”

It was Deacon Mammoliti’s faith — “my belief that God had a better purpose for me” — that sustained him through the horror of 9/11 and its aftermath.

“God helped me find serenity amidst the chaos,” he said. “I drew strength from the belief that God doesn’t abandon us. I knew what I had to do, that by physically helping people, I could help them see that hope was not lost.”

The depth and frequency of his prayer increased profoundly from that day forward.

Despite all the suffering, terror and loss, he said he sees 9/11 as a bridge from one part of the Communion of Saints to the other.

“We are Easter people,” he insisted. “We believe in eternal life and in the tremendous bond we share with our loved ones on earth and in heaven.”

Even when he’s silent

Bishop John R. Gaydos, now deceased, who led this diocese from 1997-2018, spent that fateful day in Washington, D.C. at a meeting of the U.S. Conference of Catholic Bishops’ administrative committee.

While they were gathered, a staff member told the president of the bishops’ conference that a plane had been flown into one of the Twin Towers of the World Trade Center.

The bishops paused briefly to pray for the injured and then continued with their meeting.

“It seemed like no time after that that we heard that a plane had flown into another one of the buildings at the World Trade Center,” Bishop Gaydos recalled in 2020. “That’s when it dawned on us that something was very, very wrong.”

Word soon followed that the Pentagon had been struck by a third plane, and that a fourth had been hijacked and was on a trajectory for Washington — presumably the White House or the Capitol.

That day at noon, all the bishops at the committee meeting walked across the street to the Basilica of the National Shrine of the Immaculate Conception to concelebrate Mass.

The basilica was filled with students from The Catholic University of America. 

“A majority of the students there were from the East Coast,” Bishop Gaydos noted. “Many had relatives and acquaintances who were working in or near the World Trade Center.”

The next morning, a friend helped Bishop Gaydos track down one of the last available rental cars in the city.

“There was almost no traffic on the highways, and no contrails in sky, no air traffic at all,” he recalled.

The long drive home gave him plenty of time to think about what was happening.

“If you look at the whole sweep of salvation history, you now that God is usually most keenly present at the very moments where he seems most absent,” Bishop Gaydos noted in 2020. “Understanding that, you recognize the fact that when we most need God, that’s when he’s most present.”

The evening of the attacks, he directed the priests of this diocese to offer Masses for the repose of the souls of all who had lost their lives, and asked everyone to pray fervently.

“This is a time of shock and sorrow for us all,” he wrote. “I encourage all to pray for peace. For those who are suffering now because of the tragic events of this morning, we know that Christ is the one who can help them during this difficult time.”

Bishop Gaydos pointed to the wisdom of Jesus’s command to “love your enemies and pray for those who hurt you.”

“Love can be transforming,” he stated. “It can be disarming. That’s the radical message of Jesus.”

Flowing like a river

Our Lady of Peace Monastery in Columbia had been founded in 1969 at the height of the Vietnam War.

Its sisters committed themselves to promoting and praying for peace in the community, the nation and the world.

There was plenty of room for nature outside their monastery on West Broadway in Columbia.

The sisters had installed a Peace Pole inscribed with the word “peace” in 13 languages.

The peace garden and pond would follow.

“The Peace Pond was planned long before 9/11, because we were named for Our Lady of Peace,” Sr. Mary Jo noted.

The garden was designed and completed in 2000, which was the Jubilee Year for the Third Millennium of Christianity, as well as the International Year of Peace.

Work on the Peace Pond began in the summer of 2001 and was completed the morning of Sept. 11.

Six years later, the sisters and members of the greater community gathered to bless the garden and Peace Pole.

“O God,” they prayed, “we believe that peacemaking means planting seeds, even though we may never see the flower. ...

“We hold fast to your Word that one day, swords will be beat into plowshares,” they continued. “May we, as peacemakers, stake our lives on that promise.”

Sr. JoAnn posed a question to the assembly: “What difference does it make that we are gathering here today?”

She noted that the sisters worked and prayed daily for peace, and that people came to visit their monastery in search of hope and spiritual renewal. 

“The change within them and us has a ripple effect — like the concentric circles in this pond,” she said.

“We are, in fact, united with all the people of the world as we pray for ourselves and for them, that peace may prevail on earth,” she stated.

Our Lady of Peace Monastery was disbanded in 2010, with the sisters moving to other monasteries.

Restless hearts

Mrs. Jungmeyer, who was at the World Trade Center complex when the terror attacks too place, said she sees life as simply the journey to heaven.

“Once — by the grace of God —  you realize that, it seems like nothing else is important anymore,” she said. “What did St. Augustine say? ‘We belong to God and we will never rest until we rest in him.’”

She is convinced that 9/11 allowed God’s love to be manifested both on the victims and the perpetrators.

“Judgement Day is the only time that will end all conflict, unless we recognize that we truly are our brother’s keeper. Then Judgement Day is our only hope,” she said.

“God’s judgement is a form of love,” she added. “It slows down time and allows all to reassess the current state of affairs, and God’s love will eventually make everything new.”

Deacon Mammoliti said he believes 9/11 should be a national holiday — one that focuses on unity, fellowship, respect and love.

“Looking at it from a Catholic, Christian perspective, what unites us is the simple commandment that Jesus gave us all: ‘Love one another as I have loved you,’” he said.

“Imagine if we actually followed that precept!” he stated. “What a wonderful society we would have!”

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