Project 2996 - Michael R. Canty

Eight years ago, I was 26, working on contract for Mercy Hospital in Anderson Township, Ohio. A day like any other, unremarkable, a Tuesday of which I should have no recollection.

But I do.

Because on that day I watched two passenger jets fly directly into the World Trade Center in New York City. On that day nearly 3000 lives were lost; everything they were and would be, ended in an act of violence unparalleled in peace time. On that day the whole world changed.

The effects of it are still felt today, not a ripple in a pond, but an asteroid striking a mountain, global and irrefutable. It changed everything about the way the free world behaved, not just about terrorism, but about their own country, the people around them, perhaps even about themselves. But no one felt the impact more than the families and friends who lost loved ones to that murderous act of terrorism.

This year, I remember Michael R. Canty, a 30-year young man from Schenectady, New York who worked for Carr Futures as a trader. Michael was a guy that got along with everyone, a true people person who enjoyed sharing a beer with like minded individuals. He enjoyed making new friends, and his friends knew him as the go-to guy, the one you could talk to about anything.

Born the seventh of nine children, Michael was also a family man, a favorite uncle to his 16 nieces and nephews. He kept in contact with his parents and all 8 siblings on regular basis, and often visited the family home in the Berkshires.


He had dreams of starting a family of his own, too; being a husband and father was a great aspiration of his, and he was going to begin reaching it by proposing to his girlfriend, Erin Clifford. He already had a ring on deposit, and a plan for the proposal: he would take her out on a boat near the Canty family home, pull closer to the shore, and have his 16 nieces and nephews hold up a huge sign stating "Will you marry me?"

Eight years ago, those dreams would come to an end, when a jet airliner hijacked by Islamic extremist terrorists crashed into Tower One. Michael worked on the 92nd floor, above the impact zone, cutting off chances of escape.

Yes, I know I ended his story tragically abrupt - because that's how his life ended. But I'm not writing this to remember his death; I'm writing it to remember his life.

I only know Michael R. Canty from the memorials, tributes and articles I read as part of my research on him for Project 2996, the growing memorial tribute to victims of the September 11th, 2001 terrorist attacks. But I wish I knew him in person - he was a guy that I wanted to be like, that I still aspire to be like everyday, a genuine role model and example to others.

When I started research for my tribute in the Project, I thought how kind it was to set aside a day to remember a person, a total stranger, whose life was cut short so needlessly. I've come to realize that the memorial is only one aspect of the Project; another, just as important, is to remind you how precious life is, how fortunate we are to be able to share it - the joys and woes - with other people, and that how we live our life affects those around us after we have departed.

So thank you, Michael, for the lives you touched when you were here, and for the legacy that continues to affect your friends since you've been gone. You've made another friend this week, and another person to carry on your example.