"You Can Do It!" I Said to Them

I stood at home plate

when Jeff Hardy was cooking on the mound,

serving up smokin’ softball strikes,

but I never sat before a plate of his food,

and I certainly never advised him

to take that head chef job,

that month,

up on the eighty-first floor.

Years before she changed her name,

my married eyes lusted after Debbie Jacobs,

yet I never acted, staying true to my vows.

But neither did I ever tell her

to put on the United Airlines garb,

or to get on Flight 93,

or to get her throat cut

fighting for the lives of her passengers.

But I did take that city job in ninety-five,

testing young guys who’d been raised

playing with long, red toy trucks,

now striving to be real firemen.

I failed the ones not up to it,

some who were carried out on stretchers,

and I passed the sweaty

and joyous survivors of the ordeal,

helped them out of the heavy gear

they wore in their half hour of hell.

To all of them, pass or fail,

I had said “You can do it!”

I tested three hundred and two thirds failed

but to those who went on to training

hoping to graduate from the academy

I said “You can do it!”

And they did.

They were a pride that I took personally

that I harbored

as though they were me

never guessing what their final calling would be.

If I can be glad of anything

it’s that I ignored the rules as the test was ending

and wrote about it—other than on the rating sheets—

and took personal notes

as all-too-brief biographies

of the victorious men

in the fifty-pound vests

spilled from my pen.

On September 12^th, 2001

I found these six-year-old notes:

January 26^th, 1995: William Johnston--scored 100%

William’s got my general build:

six feet, a hundred and eighty pounds.

His head of chestnut hair has been given a bowl cut

and he was wearing an earring in his left ear;

February 2, 1995:—my last day 
as Special Examiner, Firefighter Physical:

Adam David Rand scored 100%--

Adam installs tile these days.

He is here for a rescheduled test,

due to faulty equipment the first time.

He’s about five-five, a hundred and fifty pounds.

One of the strongest and best so far…

On nine-eleven, William Johnston

was with Engine 6, Manhattan,

and Adam Rand came to die with

Squad 288 from Queens.

“You can do it,” I told them.