9/11 spouses reflect on changed lives

Deborah and David Garcia met as undergraduates at SUNY Cortland and married in 1987, determined to build their lives together. They settled in Freeport and raised two sons.

On the morning of Sept. 11, 2001, David Garcia, a computer consultant at Marsh & McClennan, was at work on the 97th floor of the World Trade Center's north tower when American Airlines Flight 11 struck the building at 8:46 a.m. He never made it out, and amid her grief, Deborah was left struggling to hold together her life and her family.

She did not know where her life without her husband would take her. But she was certain about one thing: She would never remarry.

"I never entertained the idea of even looking at another man," she said.

The attacks of Sept. 11 left hundreds of widowed spouses scraping together the shards of their once-shared lives. Some, like Garcia, mourned companions of decades; others had been married for months. After the raw searing grief of the first months and years, some of them began to consider whether they could love again.

For some spouses, it was a deliberate process, requiring them to relearn long-forgotten rituals of dating. Others met new partners by chance. Surviving spouses say the prospect of remarriage was wrenching, requiring a form of closure on a past life and a willingness to start over with someone new.

Garcia found solace in a most unexpected quarter -- David's brother, Richard, who was going through a divorce and dealing with his brother's death. Richard was there to help Deborah deal with the countless tasks that consumed her days, such as requests from David's employer for his work passwords, to helping her sons, then 8 and 4, cope with the loss of their father.

Their friendship evolved from mutual support into romance, and they married in 2004.

Honoring dead, living

"The relationship, especially in the beginning, for me was like an anesthesia, because I could just close my eyes and go somewhere else during the time we were together . . ." she said. "It was two people pretty much absorbed in a river of emotion and tears.

"My decision to marry, for me, was purely an emotional one," she added. "I had no need to be supported by another person; I had no desire to necessarily relocate. In a significant way, it was just that grief is very heavy, and I had hope that I could have some happiness."

Thomas Demaria, a psychologist and director of the C.W. Post 9/11 Families Center, said fewer than one-third of the widows and widowers he and colleagues worked with have remarried. Those who have, he said, negotiated a delicate balance between a past life and a new one.

As the 10th anniversary of the attacks approaches, these survivors are reflecting on their changed lives, their spouses' legacies, and their own choices.

"The widows I've seen have been tremendously devoted to their children in terms of making sure their children are adjusted, and focused on remembering the legacy of their spouse," Demaria said. "It's been a tough challenge for them to navigate, especially in terms of new relationships."

So it went for Katherine Robson McCarthy, 59, formerly of Manhasset, whose husband, Donald Robson, 52, a partner at Cantor Fitzgerald, died on Sept. 11. Initially, she couldn't even fathom the possibility of seeking romance as she focused on raising her two sons, then 17 and 21, and helping them complete college.

"My friends were so supportive and so nice, and after a few years they said to me, 'It's time, you've got to start dating again,' " she said. "You're married for 25 years, how do you date? You've had children with this man, you've done everything. How do you date?"

But she tried it. At the end of her first date, she said she was so nervous she got into a stranger's car instead of her own.

Meanwhile, a friend from her youth, Dan McCarthy, read in their hometown paper that Donald had died. McCarthy's wife had been diagnosed with stage-4 breast cancer, and he called Robson McCarthy and suggested they could help each other. "But I wasn't in any position to help anyone," she said.

McCarthy, who lived in Wisconsin, called every few months to check on her, and the two became close. They were married in August 2004 and she moved to Wisconsin. "Even though you're married again, it's not the same thing," she said. "You're not raising children. But you're older. It's companionship."

A partner in healing

Different issues plagued younger widows, some of whom say they felt guilty realizing dreams they shared with their lost spouses with someone else.

"Originally I didn't want children, because I felt bad about the fact that I didn't have them with Michael," said Monica Iken Murphy, of Manhattan, whose husband, Michael Iken, who worked at a brokerage firm, died 11 months after the two married. "I went through that whole issue of guilt and then I went to therapy and that solved that issue. What would Michael want? He would want me to have a family."

Her new husband, firefighter Robert Murphy, who lost seven members of his company, Rescue Co. 4, Engine 292 in Queens on 9/11, understands that her late husband will always be part of her life, she said. The couple has two daughters, ages 3 and 5.

Garcia, who now lives with her sons and Richard in Essex Junction, Vt., said her family was supportive of their relationship, and she considers herself lucky to have avoided the dating scene. She said David remains an essential part of her daily life. She wears two wedding rings: her ring from David on her right hand, and the one from Richard on her left.

"Because I'm married to two men," she explained.

Though new relationships took some widows and widowers by surprise, others said they came to actively seek companionship. Ricardo Barnes of Bay Shore lived with his wife, Sheila, for more than three decades. But after Sheila, a secretary at Aon Corp., died on 9/11, and with his two daughters grown, he realized he wanted to find someone to share his life.

"I wanted a companion," Barnes said. "I was by myself. With my kids gone, wife gone, I wanted someone to be with me."

He first saw his future wife, Celia, at an aunt's funeral in September 2002. The pair began dating, and married the following May. He said his children wondered why he was remarrying so soon. Barnes said the relationship has brought him happiness.

"This is a different ballgame altogether, much, much different. It's not the same -- it could never be the same," he said.