A Somber Reading of the Names of the Dead

By VIVAN YEE

Though they were not to speak, New York Governor Andrew M. Cuomo, New Jersey Governor Chris Christie, Mayor Michael R. Bloomberg and former mayor Rudolph W. Giuliani created a small stir when they arrived shortly before the ceremony was to begin. They stopped together about ten yards from the platform where 200 readers, reciting the names of the dead, were to stand at lecterns.

Angela Pesce, who wore her son Danny Pesce's face and name on her t-shirt, said she approved of Mr. Bloomberg's decision to exclude the politicians from the ceremony program.

“I love the subdued atmosphere-it's very personal,” she said. “It's the way it should have been since day one.”

With the rest of the crowd, the politicians paused and fell silent as the honor guard of policemen and firemen filed onto the platform, followed by drummers and bagpipers, and displayed a slightly battered and torn flag salv aged from the ruins of World Trade Center flag.

The Young People's Chorus of New York City sang the national anthem as the crowd stilled and even the signs they carried stopped moving. At 8:46 a.m., a small silver bell atop the platform rang once, to mark the moment 11 years ago when the first plane struck the North Tower, and in the distance the crowd could hear the faint sound of a nearby church's bells tolling.

Then began the reading of the names, the long recitation that is by now a staple of Sept. 11 commemoration ceremonies. After reading the full names of several other people's relatives, many readers added personal messages of their own to the last name they read: “And my husband, Patrick Adams,” said Allison Adams, one of the first two readers. “You're gone but never, ever, will you be forgotten.”

Several of the readers, who read the names in alphabetical order, paid tribute to parents, aunts or uncles they barely had the chance to know or fiancés who died before their wedding days. “And my uncle, Oleh D. Wengerchuk,” said Larysa Andreadis. “I think of him every time I see 9-11 on a clock.”

Carrie Bergonia choked up as she read the name of her fiancé, Joseph J. Ogren, a firefighter. “I love you and I miss you,” she said through tears. “Till we meet again.”

Anthony Chiofalo read the name of his cousin, Nicholas P. Chiofalo, then addressed the crowd of hundreds.

“God bless you all,” he said. “These are not just names that we read. God bless America.”