Oyster Bay's Kelly brothers honor dad, who died on 9/11
Sports and family were two of Joseph Kelly's favorite things, and it stood to reason he would put them together whenever he could.
His kids would watch his hockey games and they'd play catch in the backyard, all things that cemented his place as a beloved and involved father. All until that day that changed countless lives, the Kelly family's included.
In a story that echoes so many others, on Sept. 11, 2001, Kelly was working for Cantor Fitzgerald, a global financial services firm, on the 105th floor of the North Tower at the World Trade Center.
Days earlier, Joseph, 40, had taken his sons Chris, 8, and Tom, 6, to Yankee Stadium to see the Yankees play the Red Sox. It would be the last time they would enjoy a sporting event together.
On a balmy late-summer day, an airplane flown by terrorists crashed into Joseph's place of business. According to his brother, James, a New York City firefighter, Joseph likely died from smoke inhalation, as his office was above the impact point.
Nine years later, Chris and Tom haven't forgotten how much their dad enjoyed combining his two passions. He would have enjoyed what occurred Saturday on Memorial Field, Chris said. This was special.
Chris, a 17-year-old center for the Oyster Bay varsity football team, suited up with Tom, 15, and the two had an opportunity to honor their father as the Baymen took on Locust Valley.
Tom, a lineman, was temporarily called up from junior varsity for this special occasion. Other than wrestling, it's the first time the two have been on any team together.
"He was such a nice guy," Chris said of his dad. "He'd definitely want to be here, watching our football game."
Instead, Joseph Kelly was remembered Saturday, not just by his family but by all those in attendance at the game.
After a moment of silence, Chris and Tom took the coin toss for Oyster Bay in memory of a father whom they described as a loving man who would take them to games, shared a passion for hockey and baseball, and loved the New York Jets.
Joseph worked to leave an indelible imprint on this five children - Tom, Chris, two older daughters and a younger son, all of whom share a love of sports. "I don't do much throwing, but yeah, he taught me how to throw a football," Chris said with a slight smile. "He was friends with everyone."
Tom, more introspective - and who, with his buzzed blond hair, looks as if he'll be the spitting image of his erudite bigger brother in a few years - said of his dad, "He was just fun to be with."
Sept. 11 is always tough going, though they've learned to treat it "like any other day," Chris said.
The hardest part of the day usually comes at school. "They do the moment of silence, the principal will shake your hand . . . People will ask if you're OK," Chris said.
It was something they skipped in 2002, when their mother, Susan, decided she "didn't want us to relive the memory," Chris said.
Nine years removed from the attacks, the day still takes its toll, but the boys seem solemn rather than overwhelmed. Friends have left messages on Facebook or sent texts, stopping short of that imaginary line that divides comforting and uncomfortable.
Their coach, Jeff Schiereck, said it was something he grappled with himself.
"The coaches decided [to do the coin toss]," he said. "I remember thinking, 'What am I going to do, what am I going to do?' I wanted to do something, but I didn't want it to be too much or be uncomfortable [for them]."
That's what led to the idea of calling up Tom from JV and having both brothers participate in the low-key pregame ceremony.
"I think he kind of knew" he was going to be called up, said Schiereck, who told Tom on Friday. "I didn't want him to dwell on it too much."
He added, bemused and possibly understating the reaction: "He was excited."
The team embraced the idea wholeheartedly and enthusiastically, Schiereck said.
Much of that has to do with the fact that the boys' resemblance to their father isn't restricted to just sports. They are well-liked by teammates and administration alike - boys, Schiereck said, he wouldn't mind hanging around his own kids.
"I know all the siblings," Schiereck said. "Chris is a four-year starter, which is rare for a lineman, and he sets the tone right . . . They're both on their game."
Before the game, they stood together while players milled about the field - Chris, older, candid and well-spoken, and Tom respectful and shy.
For one day, at least, they were on the same level: Joseph's kids, grown up and playing together as Dad would have wanted.
