AW1 Joseph "Boats" John Pycior Jr., DCNO Crisis Action Center KIA Born: October 14, 1961 Died: September 11, 2001 Hometown: Carlstadt, NJ

Joe died at the age of 39 during the terrorist attack on the Pentagon. Joe is buried at the BG William C. Doyle's Veteran Cemetary, Wrightstown, NJ Section N, Site 00003.
Joe enlisted in the Navy at Newark, N.J. on June 24th, 1980 and went through the Recruit Training Command in Great Lakes, Ill. from June 1980 through August 1980. From boot camp, Joe served as a Boatswain's Mate aboard the USS William S. Sims (FF 1059) from January 1982 through July 1983. He then served aboard the USS Seattle (AOE 3) from January 1984 through October 1985.
Finally seeing the light, Joe decided to become an AW. After training he flew as an acoustic sensor operator with Patrol Squadron Eight from December 1986 through June 1991. It was during this tour that Joe was advanced to AW1 on December 16, 1988.
From VP-8, Joe headed to the Navy Recruiting District Philadelphia from September 1991 through October 1996. To survive five years as a recruiter says a lot about Joe's professionalism.
Joe headed back to sea duty, first attending CV-TSC training at Fleet Combat Training Center Atlantic in Dam Neck, Va. from March 1997 through May 1997. From there, he headed to Norfolk to serve on the USS George Washington (CVN 73) from May 1997 through February 1999.
His last command would be working for the Chief of Naval Operations in the Pentagon beginning in March 1999.

Joe's Awards and Decorations include the Purple Heart, two Navy and Marine Corps Commendations Medals, five Navy and Marine Corps Achievement Medals, the Meritorious Unit Commendation, four Sea Service Deployment Ribbons, two Armed Forces Expeditionary Medals, the Navy Expeditionary Medal, the Navy "E" Ribbon, the National Defense Service Medal, the Joint Meritorious Unit Award, four Southwest Asia Service Medals, the Antarctic Service Medal, five Good Conduct Medals, the Kuwait Liberation Medal, the Navy Unit Commendation, the Navy Recruiting Ribbon, the Rifle Marksmanship Medal, and the Pistol Marksmanship Medal.

Follow this link to learn more about the Pycior Memorial and other dedications.

AW1 Kevin Deise
I served with Joe in VP-8, in fact he was SS1 for my first flight on top of a submarine. He gave me my first positional NATOPS check. I learned alot about ASW from him. He was affectionatly known as "Boats" in VP-8 because of his previous rate of BM. Go with God Joe.

AW1 (Ret.) Brian P. Seals
The last I heard from Boats was back in 93 when my father passed away. Boats was recruiting in the Trenton area as we are both from New Jersey. He gave me a call while I was here to offer a hand if I needed anything. He was even so nice as to send flowers to the funeral home. That's just the way Joe is.
One of the best things, or maybe funny, I don't know, was the way we all struggled through VP-30 RAG. When we're staying all afternoon to study what seemed like impossible stuff, Boats went to the library and found what he could and spent his time at home studying while the rest of us suffered, and then told us how we didn't have to be there all the time and showed us what we needed to know and where to get it.
His big thing was how he couldn't believe he was in the Navy after spending time at the Citadel. I don't remember how many years he spent there, I just remember him telling us about it.
In closing, Boats was always good for a laugh, he's one of the smartest people I know, guess that's why he was at the Pentagon. I think the Chief's board really screwed up not selecting him over the years. He's a great guy and a great Sailor.
I guess the reality is, is that we won't be able to benefit from this person anymore. It's truly a sad day for the AW community and for the Navy.

Ray "Burgy" Burgman
Joe and I were classmates in the TSC pipeline. He was a really good guy. Down to earth...Always drove up to New Jersey to see his family on the weekends for six months straight!

AWCS (Ret.) Dave "Devo" DeVarney
I must admit that I never had the distinct honor of meeting Joe. But as I receive shipmate comments and scour the Internet...I've learned several things about him that speak volumes about him and our rate. I noticed that he was in charge of SIPRNET access to his office's site. With all the ITs in the Navy...we had an AW doing that job! I also learned that he must have cared deeply not only about his rate but being the most professional Sailor he could be. When the ALL HANDS magazine used the old title to describe the AW rate...it was Joe who took the time to write them about their error. Most of us would just have laughed at the error..not Joe. He also participated in another web site's recco contest and as best as I can determine...he was right. I've lost the opportunity to meet Joe...please let's not lose his memory and more importantly...his sacrifice!

AWCS Ken Foster
Joe worked for me. He was an incredibly valuable professional who was always there to cover for me! Fair winds my shipmate...

B. A. Walsh
"Boats” was always quick with a laugh to cheer you up or lend a hand to help you get through the O-course at Pensacola one last time.

Being of Polish decent...I advocate celebrating the life of those that are lost. I am tired of mourning.

We have lost one of the best and I can't answer why? So let’s remember the hands that played the AQA-7 like a concert piano and firmly held his family together even during the toughest cruise. A mind that was quick with parameters, thought like a skipper and smart enough to ace the ORE tests. Yet in hard times, he could still remember a story from the good days and make you laugh. Remember his heart, big enough to care for a whole class of baby AW's or his own babies he raised with the love of a good father.

Joe had enough room in his heart to make the world better by being the best…nothing less. That heart doesn't beat anymore. Our hearts break at his loss. His heart waits for us to join him. One last time on the flight sked for another launch. Don't worry Joe there are some great folks still standing watch. Rest easy shipmate.

Joseph Rivera
I had the pleasure of serving with Joe from 87 to 90 in Patrol Squadron Eight, Brunswick, ME. I can remember this funny guy who always had a smile and rarely ever a cross word about anyone or anything. We always gave him a hard time about his black shoe heritage and tagged him with the nickname "Boats".

A consummate professional and probably one of the most likable people I have ever met. He could remember every regulation as well as the entire history of the Navy like no one else could. When the people who knew him say that he was always the biggest kid in the room, they were describing him as he will always be in my mind. He viewed this tough world we live in through the eyes of a child. His innocence and respect for others made him the special person that he was. At the altar during the memorial service at Andrews AFB, there were several photos of Joe taken over the years. For me, one of them stood out above the rest. It was a picture of a little boy in a Sailor's uniform. He was a Navy man through and through and I miss him.

CWO2 Jim Day
We were stationed together in VP-8, Joe's first AW tour, and I am proud to say that I was one of many SS-1's that helped train him. He was a good shipmate and will be missed.

AW2 (Civ)Frank Kilgallen
Boats was my sensor one while I was in the VP-8 from July 87 until Jan 90. His sensor one was AWC Jacobs. Joe was respected by all, a source guidance to me during the rough times.

AWC Mike Fortin
Joe "Boats" Pycior and I went thru TSC school together in Norfolk back in 87 ...I've always admired him for his determination and desire to make the Navy a better place for everyone he came in contact with. Several times since then we've crossed paths and exchanged a few words of encouragement during shortfalls due to our environment, yet we always parted on a funny thought or joke before we carried on with our lives. The last time we spoke was last February when he called me and told me where he was and that he needed info about some flights that we were doing during our last week of PR deployment. I passed him what he needed, joked about why he hadn't made CPO yet or would try to guess what else he needed to do to make CPO. I encouraged him to never change the way you do business and you will succeed. In my heart he was a "Chief", a true professional, an honor to have known, now and forever in my memory. God be with you "Boats"!

Father David G. Reeson; a priest of the Archdiocese of Omaha and a cadet chaplain at the United States Air Force Academy in Colorado.
On Sept. 9, I was in Washington, D.C., for the Military Archdiocese Convocation. While there, I celebrated Mass for the annual Andrews Air Force Base parish picnic. It was a delightful reunion for me, since I was stationed there for two years. I renewed my friendship with many people I had gotten to know well.
I recall well one family that came to Mass at Andrews Air Force Base, although Joe Pycior - the husband of Teresa and father of Joey and Robbie - was actually a member of the Navy. I always gave Joe a hard time since he was a member of the "other service."
I had seen Joe and his family last April while our Catholic Cadet Choir from the United States Air Force Academy was in the Washington, D.C., area for a concert tour. Joe had attended Mass and our concert at the Pentagon, and he and his family came to a parish in the area where our cadets led the singing at Mass and provided a beautiful concert and variety show later in the week.
Joe and Teresa were very involved in their parish. Joe was a dynamic scout leader and the Pycior children are members of the Andrews AFB Children's Choir. On Sunday, Sept. 9, Joe had taken charge of the children's games at the parish picnic. He had put in his papers to retire from the Navy in a few months after 20 years of service. While in the Navy, he earned a bachelor of arts degree and a teacher certificate. The Pycior family would soon be back in New Jersey, where Joe was going to teach. Joe and his family were excited about the future.
On Sept. 11, Joe was at work when one of the hijacked planes slammed into the Pentagon, killing him at age 39.
Joe was the second person I personally know who died in the terrorist acts. The first was a grandmother who was a passenger on the flight from Dulles Airport. Five months ago I baptized her fourth granddaughter.
I'm still in shock when I think of these horrific terrorist attacks. While I will never understand such "acts of savage cruelty" as the Holy Father calls them, I trust in God.
I ask for the prayerful support of all the people of the Archdiocese of Omaha for the members of the military who are preparing for the war on terrorism. As Catholics we believe, as Pope John Paul II has said, "Even if the forces of darkness appear to prevail, those who believe in God know that evil and death do not have the final say."
Let's all heed the pope's invitation to "beg the Lord that the spiral of hatred and violence will not prevail."

WASHINGTON, Sept. 13, 2001 -- The Navy this afternoon released the names of its 33 sailors and nine civilian employees who are still missing in the aftermath of the terrorist attack on the Pentagon two days ago.

DoD officials said they expect the Army to release a list of its missing personnel Friday. The Navy list is posted on the Web at www.defenselink.mil/news/Sep2001/b09132001_bt423-01.html.

"These 42 people were serving their nation when they were attacked," said Adm. Vern Clark, chief of naval operations, at a Pentagon briefing. "Service is what our profession is about. These men and women committed their lives to a life of consequence and a life of service."

The admiral called the military and civilian members "the sons and daughters, moms and dads, aunts and uncles of our nation." "And I want the whole world to know," he continued, "that this naval officer is mighty proud to serve with people who are committed to such a lifestyle."

Casualty assistance officers have been assigned to each family to act as a conduit between the military and the families, Clark explained.

Clark said he's received messages of support for the Department from many fronts, including e-mails from retired sailors. "They said, 'Admiral, give me a job; I'm ready to come back,'" he said.

When asked by a reporter if he'd classify these as "combat casualties", Navy Secretary Gordon R. England replied terrorism turns the whole world into a combat zone. "New York was a combat zone, the Pentagon was a combat zone," he said.

Clark added that the Navy family was touched in a broader way than just losing people who were working in the Pentagon. He said Navy family members were among those on the hijacked planes, but didn't give specific numbers.

"For example, one of our petty officers' 11-year-old child was on the plane (that crashed into the Pentagon)," Clark said. "They're our Navy family."

DOD RELEASES LIST OF NAVY UNACCOUNTED
The Department of Defense announced today a partial list of names of the approximately 126 persons who remain unaccounted for in the wake of Tuesday's attack on the Pentagon.
PENTAGON UNACCOUNTED NAVY

• Yeoman Second Class Melissa Rose Barnes, 27, Redlands, Calif.
• Information Systems Technician Second Class Kris Romeo Bishundat, 23, Waldorf, Md.
• Electronics Technician Third Class Christopher Lee Burford, 23, Hubert, N.C.
• Electronics Technician Third Class Daniel Martin Caballero, 21, Houston, Texas
• Lt. Eric Allen Cranford, 32, Drexel, N.C.
• Capt. Gerald Francis Deconto, 44, Sandwich, Mass.
• Information Systems Technician First Class Johnnie Doctor Jr., 32, Jacksonville, Fla.
• Cmdr. Robert Edward Dolan, 43, Florham Park, N.J.
• Cmdr. William Howard Donovan Jr., 37, Nunda, N.Y.
• Cmdr. Patrick Dunn, 39, Fords, N.J.
• Aerographer's Mate First Class Edward Thomas Earhart, 26, Salt Lick, Ky.
• Lt. Cmdr. Robert Randolph Elseth, 37, Vestal, N.Y.
• Storekeeper Third Class Jamie Lynn Fallon, 23, Woodbridge, Va.
• Aerographer's Mate Second Class Matthew Michael Flocco, 21, Newark, Del.
• Capt. Lawrence Daniel Getzfred, 57, Elgin, Neb.
• Electronics Technician First Class Ronald John Hemenway, 37, Kansas City, Kan.
• Lt. Michael Scott Lamana, 31, Baton Rouge, La.
• Operations Specialist Second Class Nehamon Lyons IV, 30, Mobile, Ala.
• Electronics Technician Second Class Brian Anthony Moss, 34, Sperry, Okla.
• Lt. Cmdr. Patrick Jude Murphy, 38, Flossmoor, Ill.
• Illustrator/Draftsman Second Class Michael Allen Noeth, 30, Jackson Heights, N.Y.
• Lt. Jonas Martin Panik, 26, Mingoville, Pa.
• Lt. j.g. Darin Howard Pontell, 26, Columbia, Md.
• Aviation Warfare Systems Operator First Class Joseph John Pycior Jr., 39, Carlstadt, N.J.
• Information Systems Technician First Class Marsha Dianah Ratchford, 34, Prichard, Ala.
• Cmdr. Robert Allan Schlegel, 38, Gray, Maine
• Cmdr. Dan Frederic Shanower, 40, Naperville, Ill.
• Chief Information Systems Technician Gregg Harold Smallwood, 44, Overland Park, Kan.
• Lt. Cmdr. Otis Vincent Tolbert, 38, Lemoore, Calif.
• Lt. Cmdr. Ronald James Vauk, 37, Nampa, Idaho
• Lt. Cmdr. David Lucian Williams, 32, Newport, Ore.
• Information Systems Technician Second Class Kevin Wayne Yokum, 27, Lake Charles, La.
• Chief Information Systems Technician Donald McArthur Young, 41, Roanoke, Va.

• Ms. Angela Houtz, 27, La Plata, Md.
• Mr. Brady Howell, 26, Arlington, Va.
• Ms. Judith Jones, 53, Woodbridge, Va.
• Mr. James Lynch, Manassas, Va.
• Capt. Jack Punches, USN (Ret.), 51, Clifton, Va.
• Mr. Marvin Woods, 58, Great Mills, MD

• Mr. Julian Cooper, 39, Springdale, MD
• Mr. Jerry Moran, 39, Upper Marlboro, MD
• Mr. Khang Nguyen, Fairfax, VA

The Record
Friday, September 14, 2001
By VIRGINIA ROHAN
Staff Writer
Family holds hope for finding sailor

For as long as his parents can remember, Joseph John Pycior Jr. wanted to be in the Navy.

"In Carlstadt, they had an organization years ago called the Naval Brigade, for kids 8 and 9 years old and up," says Arlene Pycior, his mom, who proudly remembers her son's involvement in that brigade. "They wore regular Navy uniforms -- the blue Navy uniforms in winter, white in summer -- that were, of course, specially tailored for the kids. They met every week, and the building they met at was their 'ship.' They had to abide by Navy rules."

On Thursday, Arlene Pycior was among the relatives gathered in Landover, Md., to await word about her 39-year-old son -- who was among the 190 people still unaccounted for after Tuesday's attack on the Pentagon. Arlene had traveled from New Jersey to keep vigil with his wife, Terri, and the couple's sons, 10-year-old Joseph John III, and 8-year-old Robert Adam.

Terri Pycior, a Carlstadt native who met her future husband at Becton Regional High School in East Rutherford, spoke proudly about her missing husband.

"I can tell you he's a den leader for Cub Scouts," she said on the phone Thursday. "He's happy, outgoing, funny. He loves children. Everyone that he works with loves him. And he's the perfect dad and husband."

The couple, who married in 1986, were both involved in their high school's Naval Junior ROTC unit. "He was company commander senior year, and then, of course, when he graduated from high school in June 1980, he went right into the Navy," Arlene Pycior said. "He was always a good kid."

Back at the family home in Carlstadt, her husband, Joseph J. Pycior, reminisced about their son, as CNN news reports about the terrorist attacks quietly droned in the background.

"Was he into sports as a kid? Not that much. He was more or less into the Navy," said Pycior, a Navy veteran who served in the Korean War. "Both my sons were interested in the service." (Not far from his arm chair, a triangular glass case displaying an American flag honors his only other child, Gregory James, a U.S. Army veteran who died in 1990.)

In recent years, the father said, his namesake son took the most pride in being a father. "He was always with the kids, taking them camping, fishing, and whatnot," he said.

Before Pycior started working at the Pentagon in early 1999, he had served on a number of ships, including the USS George Washington and USS Seattle. During Desert Storm, he was stationed in the Persian Gulf.

When he got a Pentagon desk job, his father remembers feeling relieved.

"I felt he was at the safest place in the world. You figure it's the nerve center of the whole Armed Forces there," he said.

In releasing the names of the missing Thursday, the Defense Department listed Pycior's title as Aviation Warfare Systems Operator First Class.

"When they have the press conferences, he compiles all the information, from graphs and charts," his wife explained.

On Tuesday morning, she said, her husband called home and spoke to their 10-year-old son. "He had called here to see if we knew about the World Trade Center, and he also called my mother, who lives on Sixth Street [in Carlstadt] and told her to go outside and look," Terri Pycior said. "She could see the smoke from the Trade Center. I think he was in his office when the plane hit. I know he was in his office 15 minutes before the plane hit."

She notes proudly that her husband was about to earn his bachelor's degree in history through Thomas Edison State College. She added that he'd also put in his retirement papers with the Navy. "We wanted to move back to Jersey at the beginning of January," she said.

Pycior, she said, had found a new love. "He's going to start studying for his master's, and wants to become a teacher," she said.

Washington Post
Sunday, September 16, 2001
By Jo Becker, Steve Vogel and Michael E. Ruane Staff Writers
Aboard Room 1D457
Smart Young Kids, Grizzled Veterans Stood Watch, and Some Died
Navy Command Center
Pentagon Room 1D457 was a Navy shop.

It was on the first "deck" -- the first floor -- of the building's southwest face. It was filled with grizzled sea dogs and smart computer geeks, former ship drivers and ex-chopper pilots; weather experts, photographers and a gifted Navy illustrator.

With its fresh renovations, the room felt as crisp and bright as a brand new frigate. The dozens of military and civilian employees of the Navy Command Center had moved there in just the past month.

There were smart kids just starting out, some in their twenties; people who were "short," or soon to retire; and ex-salts from the Cold War and 'Nam who'd already seen some stuff.

Shortly after 9:30 a.m. on Tuesday, Rick Sandelli, 48, a former helicopter pilot who worked for a Navy anti-drug task force in the room, ambled over to a gimpy wall clock. The darned thing was stuck again, but if you tapped on the glass you could get it going.

As Sandelli was about to reach for the clock, it was a normal, pleasant morning on board Pentagon 1D457. Outside, though, a hijacked 100-ton airliner was hurtling toward them, about to change everything.

In the terrorist attack Tuesday on the Pentagon that is believed to have killed 124 people who worked in the building, Room 1D457, on the first floor of the building's D Ring, one of the outermost, was among the hardest hit.

Twenty-six of the Navy's 42 active-duty and civilian personnel listed as missing or dead worked in the sprawling, cream-colored room, according to the Navy and interviews with those who escaped or were rescued from the office.

They included a lovable, just-retired captain named Jack Punches, 51, of Clifton, who had flown anti-submarine planes during the Cold War and was the master of the daily crossword puzzle; and a veteran Navy captain, Lawrence Daniel Getzfred, 57, who lived in Fairfax County and was one of five Nebraska brothers to serve in the Navy.

There were Naval Academy graduates, and sons of sailors, and people who flew the flag on their front lawns.

In many ways, it could have been any office anywhere -- a place where people gossiped, snagged candy off one another's desks and showed off pictures of their kids. But this was the Pentagon, and these people had intelligence jobs they didn't talk about and titles such as "watchstander."

They worked in the Navy Command Center, the sophisticated, round-the-clock hub that monitors Navy activities, plots movements for 317 ships and keeps an eye on political events around the world.

At 0700 every day, Vice Adm. Timothy Keating, a square-jawed, strike fighter pilot, would stride to the center for his daily briefing that the staff liked to call "Around the World in 15 Pages." This being the Navy, the weather was critical, and four or five officers would forecast the day worldwide -- rain in the Pacific, clouds over the Atlantic, temperature in the Southern Command. "The Navy Today" brief told the brass how many of the Navy's ships and sailors were at sea.

For most, the Pentagon billet was a good one -- a time when, for once, they could be near their families instead of on six-month deployments at sea. It was also an important ticket to be punched, a sign that you were on your way up.

Although the hours were long, there was time to play golf, be with the kids or go to school. Lt. Michael "Scott" Lamana, 31, of Alexandria, was taking night classes toward an MBA.

"A lot of smart young kids," Rear Adm. James M. Zortman, who runs the center, said yesterday, "lieutenants, petty officers who are real sharp. There are some older . . . faces, but the real energy comes from the younger people."

Here first flashed news of last year's terrorist attack on the USS Cole in Yemen, the downing of a Navy spy plane by the Chinese in April and the accidental sinking of a Japanese training vessel boat by a Navy submarine in February.

"When the phone rings," Zortman said, "it might be the wife or mother of a sailor, it might be the secretary of the Navy, or it might be anybody in between. But they have to be ready for any one of them."

It could be tense and tiring, but there was an esprit in the room that made it feel more like a ship than an office.

"It's a nerve center," Keating, deputy chief of naval operations, said yesterday. "It all stops right there. It was invigorating for an old geezer to come in and to be with these young Hall of Fame utility infielders who were doing such important work, and who were excited about it. It was exhilarating to go there. Every morning."

The entire room, including a section for the small Navy counter-drug task force, had just been renovated, as part of ongoing, long-term Pentagon renovations, officials said, and the moving began Aug. 15.

Many of the workers had come to the sparkling new quarters from the old command center and its adjacent offices on the fourth floor in another part of the building.

It was "like stepping from an old VW Bug to a big Cadillac," said Lt. William Wertz, 27, one of the center's watchstanders.

"Everything was new," said Sandelli, of Alexandria, who worked with the counter-drug group. "The furniture, floors, lighting, electrical. It had plenty of amenities that the old [offices] didn't have. It was very nicely done."

"We were still trying to get our telephones straightened out," Sandelli said, "that's how new it was. My phone rang at the next desk over."

But everyone seemed to click. "It was always just a good feeling," he said.

There were cubicles and private offices, and people had their spaces decorated with family photos -- Sandelli had pictures of him and his wife on their black Harley-Davidson -- wiseacre political slogans and "Beat Army" stickers.

Cmdr. Patrick Dunn, 39, who kept the office happy with jokes and talk of knocking off early, kept a big jar of candy on his desk. First Class Petty Officer Joseph Pycior, 39, was the command center's "Mr. Fixit." Both are officially missing.

On Tuesday morning, there were suit coats slung over chairs, briefcases on the floors and papers piled on desks. Most people had been at work since 0700 or 0730. They'd come by bus, Metro and carpool. The first pot of coffee had been made, and some meetings had already been held.

The first inkling of trouble came when Petty Officer Michael Allen Noeth, 30, who painted Navy posters and would shortly vanish in the inferno, jumped up at his desk and shouted: "My God! What's happened?"

He pointed to the World Trade Center calamity that was unfolding on the TV sets bolted to the wall. People quickly gathered around. A few old hands muttered to themselves that the Pentagon was probably next.

But work had to continue.

The phone rang on the orderly desk of Petty Officer Charles Lewis, 30, of the District. It was Jarrell "Jerry" Henson, 64, of Burke, a retired officer who had flown reconnaissance missions in Vietnam and who now headed the anti-drug group. Henson's travel arrangements to a conference were messed up.

Lewis stood up and grabbed another petty officer and the two headed down to the walled-off office that Henson shared with Punches. They waited patiently for both men to finish phone calls.

Paul S. Brady, 66, another retired officer who had served on a cruiser during the 1962 U.S. blockade of Cuba and was now a program analyst with the anti-drug group, was at his desk toward the back of the room, trying to concentrate on his work. A self-described "crusty old sea dog," he had pictures of his 10 grandchildren tacked to his wall.

And Rick Sandelli was headed for the stopped clock that hung above Brady's desk. "It was stuck at about 20 minutes to 10," Sandelli said, "it was probably more like 10 of 10." He walked up, stopped. "What a stupid clock," he thought. But before he could reach out, disaster struck.

What followed was a deep, thunderous roar as the hijacked airliner slammed into the outer, or E Ring, of the 59-year-old concrete hulk of the Pentagon at full throttle.

It sounded, said one former turret officer, "like a five-inch shell going off."

In Room 1D457, there was a rush of air, blackness and, for a few seconds, utter silence. When people came to their senses, the ceiling had collapsed, the fire sprinklers had come on and the room was quickly filling with smoke.

Petty Officer Lewis had been blown 15 feet across the room: "It sounded like a big gust of wind -- a big whooshing sound," he said. "You could feel it coming -- things were shaking and it was coming closer and closer."

Henson, who had been on the phone, suddenly found himself pinned in his chair by the choking debris. A few feet away, Sandelli was knocked to his knees. Brady immediately thought, "My God, they hit us."

Henson and Lewis wound up in the hospital. Sandelli, tattered and sooty and a little dazed, walked miles to a Metro stop and then more miles home. Brady found his car and drove home.

There were many in Room 1D457, though, who didn't make it out. Smart young kids, and crusty veterans.

It seemed bad for the older guys, like Jack Punches.

He was a guy, his friend Brady said, who had survived anti-submarine patrols in bad weather and touchy situations all over the world.

"Got through 20 years of that, with all the hazards," Brady said, "then gets killed in this mess."

It was bad for the devoted younger sailors, too.

"Every minute of every day, these young men and women were standing the watch," Adm. Keating said.

"That's what they were doing when they were attacked."

Washington Post
Friday, September 21, 2001
By Susan Levine Staff Writer
Joseph John Pycior, Jr.
Joseph John Pycior Jr. went off to the Navy the same month he graduated from high school, but he had been wearing a sailor's uniform since he was little.

Growing up in Carlstadt, N.J., Pycior joined the Naval Brigade before he was 10, learning military rules and regulations with like-minded boys. He officially enlisted in the service when he was only 17 -- his parents signing his application form because of his age.

Since then, he traveled the world, was twice stationed in the Persian Gulf and moved to the Pentagon. That was where the 39-year-old Pycior was on the morning of Sept. 11, in the Navy Command Center, which apparently took the brunt of the terrorist airplane attack.

Pycior, an aviation warfare systems operator first class, was less than four months from retirement.

"He always wanted to do this," said his high school sweetheart and wife, Terri, as 10-year-old Joey (a namesake) and 8-year-old Robbie (officially, Robert) played one room away in the family's Landover town house. "He did his job. . . . He loved it."

As serious as Pycior was on duty, at home he was just "a big kid" with his boys. Their favorite pastime was playing Legos. Joe was a Cub Scout leader for Joey's den. "Scouting brought out his carefree, fun-loving side," Terri Pycior said.

After more than two decades, Pycior was ready for the next challenge of life. In less than a month, he was set to receive his bachelor's degree in history from Thomas Edison State College in New Jersey. He had already talked about going for his master's. He wanted to be a middle school history teacher.

Washington Post
Sunday, September 22, 2001
By Susan Levine
Staff Writer
A Strike Too Close to Home for U.S. Military 'Family'
Terrorist Attack on Pentagon Shatters Sense of Security

They pledged to defend this country, to protect it "against all enemies foreign and domestic." They accepted the risk inherent in such a commitment. And so, by extension, did their families. Each time one of those soldiers shipped overseas, or deployed on special training, or went too long without writing, back home some spouse or parent or sibling wondered if that commitment finally was being tested.

They braced for danger. They braced for phone calls.

But nobody braced for death at the Pentagon.

Even with the staggering sadness that has transformed this country since Sept. 11, the sorrow of the dozens of military families with relatives missing or confirmed dead carries a special tinge of anguish.

As traumatic as any wartime disaster is, for them this seems even more so. It killed men and women who had come back safely from Vietnam, Korea, Bosnia and other hazardous settings. It occurred at the place their families considered the most secure posting in the world, the nexus of U.S. military might and yet a building not all that different from a large office complex.

"It's worse because it's the last thing you'd ever think of," said Roy Williams, of Birmingham, whose brother, Army Maj. Dwayne Williams, still is officially unaccounted for. "I have three brothers in the military, and I always worry about them being killed or hurt in battle. But not Dwayne, not when he gets the greatest assignment in the world."

"We felt there was no safer place he could be," Angie Moss Howard, of Sperry, Okla., said of her brother, Navy Electronics Technician 2nd Class Brian Anthony Moss. His body was identified Tuesday. "I never dreamed that it would be a target that was so widely exposed."

With no real anticipation of danger, there was none of the usual opportunity to get ready emotionally. Few of their civilian counterparts likely realize how often military families go over the details of death -- what would happen to the children, where insurance papers are filed, what to say publicly. But as one wife noted, when you're kissing your spouse out the door for the Pentagon, you don't first make sure the will is in order.

Terri Pycior held her breath every day of her husband's two tours in the Persian Gulf. "I was prepared for [the worst] when he was deployed, but I wasn't prepared for now," she explained Thursday, sitting at her kitchen table in Landover, waiting for the Navy officers who would arrive to discuss funeral arrangements for Aviation Warfare Systems Operator 1st Class Joseph John Pycior Jr. -- her high school sweetheart. Dark eyes rimmed red, she tried to explain the whipsaw of grief. The tissue in her hand was woefully inadequate.

"I've been telling myself to just pretend he's out to sea," she said, "but I know he's not coming back."

Of course, no relatives of civilian workers or contractors working at the Pentagon, or of the thousands of people lost in New York's World Trade Center, had the chance to steel their psyches before last week's terrorist attacks.

But there is, quite noticeably, another nuance of feeling with some of the military families caught in the vortex of this tragedy -- a sense that the sacrifice these men and women were so willing to make for the United States has somehow been violated by the place and nature of the terrorists' action.

The stiff-upper-lip, service-to-country stoicism typically associated with the armed forces is absent.

"The military culture, by and large, is that we'll put our emotions on the back burner and do the mission we have to do," said Maj. Ronald Alexander, a clinical psychologist who has provided counseling for more than a week. Despite his training, he must fight for composure when talking about the events of Sept. 11. He's scheduled for a months-long tour in Saudi Arabia this winter. "Military people will tell you we're ready, and we are. But we're also scared to death, and to say otherwise would be a lie."

Alexander is up from Keesler Air Force Base in Mississippi, one of the 150 people assembled at the Family Assistance Center the military has been operating nearly round-the-clock on multiple floors of the Sheraton Crystal City. Chaplains and child mental health specialists were called in, as well as pay and benefits specialists and victims' rights advocates.

Private rooms were reserved for grief counseling. One area on the third floor was set up for DNA collection to aid the tortuous identification work being done on remains pulled from the crash site.

Twice daily, Pentagon officials brief the military and civilian families in attendance on the latest information on the rescue-cum-recovery effort.

Army Secretary Thomas E. White appeared on Tuesday, speaking and answering questions for nearly 90 minutes.

The Arlington National Cemetery superintendent has talked about the criteria for burial there.

"Therapy dogs" also have been on duty numerous days at the hotel, and it was Pumpkin, a pit bull, that a young boy found for comfort one afternoon. He hugged the dog tightly around its neck, hid his face and sobbed for 20 minutes.

The military's encompassing embrace is one decided advantage these families have over those whose relatives died in New York City or aboard the two other hijacked planes. Each has been assigned a casualty assistance calls officer, and that individual will be with them, assisting one-on-one, as long as needed.

"The military is a larger family. There's immediate support," Navy Chaplain Bill McEllroy said.

Hour after hour at the center, Craig Sincock has sustained others. On occasion, too, he has asked for help himself. The Army chief warrant officer works at the Pentagon. So does -- did -- Cheryle, his wife of nearly 25 years. Tuesday, he was practicing the past tense, slowly, gingerly. He tentatively declared that he was resolved to the likelihood that recovery teams will never find anything for him and his five grown children to bury.

Because of her office's location, "the nose of the plane hit my wife smack dead center," he said. "That's still kind of hurting." While Sincock has drawn strength from his volunteer role as counselor -- a role no one at the center would have dared deny him -- he knows that ache will not diminish. The first night, after more than 14 hours spent bringing out the wounded and assisting with a temporary morgue -- all the while watching for any sign of his wife, listening for any word of her whereabouts -- he went home to Dale City and wept.

"I lay down in bed and cried and said, 'It's not supposed to happen like this.' "

Other roiled feelings soon surfaced, complicated by worries about a son who is stationed in Korea and quickly could be on a different front line.

"My entire military career," Sincock conceded, "I have been taught how to be on the offensive: 'Here's your weapon, go take that hill.' And now we're on the defensive, and . . . in an area that we thought we were absolutely safe in. Not only do we not know how to react, we're numb."

He has concluded that "there really is no difference between military families and civilian families, despite training. Everybody becomes equal." Sitting in the lobby of the Sheraton, relaxed but ramrod straight in his bearing, he looked up toward the mezzanine where some of those he has counseled were milling.

"There's nobody sitting up there and saying, 'I'm a rock.' "

In the months to come, though, fortitude may be easier for wives such as Mary Lou Moss because she knows the military will still be there for her. With Brian's family in Oklahoma and her sister in Ohio, she is all alone in Washington as far as family.

"If it had to happen, I was glad it happened when I was here," she said, crying despite her attempts at control. "Nobody other than military knows the tightness of the military community. I've had more support than anyone could imagine. . . . This whole community grieves."

She wants to see greater meaning in her husband's death. More devastating, she insists, would have been his being killed in a car crash on the interstate.

"If he had to go, this is the way he would have wanted to go."

Department of Defense
Sunday, September 24, 2001

The Department of Defense confirmed today that the following people were killed as a result of the attack on the Pentagon. This brings to 74 the number of unaccounted victims positively identified, not including the individual who later succumbed to wounds suffered in the attack.
Army:

• Maj. Clifford L. Patterson, Jr., 33, Alexandria, Va.