Nine Eleven

Oh no. Maria Sanchez, our executive assistant, was calling me "Mr. Becklund." That was our private code to tell me my boss was angry with me. Mrs. Sanchez was a tough, capable lady. I depended on her a lot and this code let me know that he was angry and that I should avoid him.

Here it was early on a Monday morning and I was already in trouble with my boss - again. I wondered what was wrong this time.

Our boss, Bigoted Bill, was a pain to work for. He was an extremely unpleasant person. I think he enjoyed being that way. Whenever I got into trouble, I ended up being called to his office so that he could list all my deficiencies. His list was getting longer and he made it plain I was close to being fired. I needed my job, so I had to be careful.

"Oh, no. It is not.... It is not a problem." She looked toward his office. "I just...."

"For you, Mrs. Sanchez, anything. But please. You usually call me Jeff. Whenever you call me Mr. Becklund, I think I'm in trouble."

"No no. No trouble ... Jeff. I just wanted to ask...." She paused, worried, nervous. That was totally unlike her.

Mrs. Sanchez was a lady about twice my age of 25. She was from Puerto Rico. I liked and respected her a lot. She seemed to like me. I would do anything for her and I hoped she knew that. She helped me become comfortable in New York and she took care of me when I ran into some family problems. She was like a mother to me. I owed her a lot.

"Mrs. Sanchez. We've worked together for two years now. You've done me many favors and kept me out of trouble. You know I feel an obligation...."

That was true. Mrs. Sanchez was a wonder. Working around our boss, Bigoted Bill, or BB as we called him, was like working around a bottle of nitroglycerine: you never knew when it would explode or who would be hurt. Mrs. Sanchez was not only good at predicting the explosions; she was also good at making sure the explosions did not harm either of us. I loved my job - except for working with our boss - and somehow she made that part bearable, too. Her warnings were a big help to me.

I recommended that we hire her when BB was out of town once. He never forgave me, telling me I was irresponsible hiring "someone like her." He was extremely angry and promised me that the next time I messed up, I would be fired.

"Yes. Well ... Jeff..... My nephew has just graduated from high school. He is very good with computers. I know you have need of an assistant. I was wondering...."

Thursday was the day I set aside for interviews. In the previous couple of weeks, I had interviewed about twenty applicants and almost all were clearly unqualified for the job. Even though all their resumes looked great, I hadn't even found one that was acceptable. I didn't think I would ever find a good assistant. I was pretty discouraged.

"He is very good with computers. Perhaps you could see him today?" She seemed nervous. Why did she want me to see him today - on a Monday?

"Well.... He is here now, and I was wondering...." She wanted me to interview him now, early on a Monday morning? That was unusual, to say the least. I wondered if maybe BB was out of the office.

"Please. Come into my cubicle and have a seat. Now, tell me about your nephew. Does he have a resume listing his experience?"

"Well ... no, he has not had any experience - except at home and at school. He fixes computers for the family and has helped at school. His teachers say he is very very good. This is his resume."

I glanced at it. It was one side of one page and there wasn't much on the page. I guess I was looking skeptical because she suddenly began talking very rapidly: Her nephew had gone to a good technical high school and apparently had learned a lot about computers. He helped out around the school and they found him to be very valuable. He read a lot and he had passed some tests and received several certifications. He would be ideal. She talked on and on. She was extremely nervous. As she talked, she wrung her hands.

"His left leg was amputated when he was seven years old." She rushed on. "Oh. He's fine now! He just...."

"Do you think it would prevent him from doing some part of the job?" There. According to the people in Human Resources at headquarters, that was the only question you could ask about a person's disabilities.

"No, I am sure he will do well if given a chance...." There it was. The nub of the problem, if you'll pardon the expression.

Besides being a major cause of unhappiness in the world, our boss BB was also a bigot. Oh, he didn't discriminate; he hated everyone equally. He didn't like Jews, Catholics, Hispanics, African-Americans, people with disabilities, gays, ... you name it. BB's list was long and getting longer. He did not like me at all - for several reasons. He even disliked me for having been brought up in a fairly liberal wing of the Lutheran Church. He would probably disqualify her nephew based on the fact that he fell into one or more of these categories.

The young man would never receive a fair chance if our boss had anything to say about it.

We had an enclosed repair room in our area where we did our repairs. It had tables and lab benches and repair equipment. I wanted to see what this young man knew. If he weren't suitable, I could just tell Mrs. Sanchez. If he were suitable, we would have to find some way to hire him. So, first things first.

I set up one of the computers with a very simple problem and then went into the hall so I could watch him walk. He was an extraordinarily handsome young man with a light brown complexion, black hair and striking brown eyes. He limped badly. From the way he threw his hip, it was probable his left leg was prosthetic. But, that wasn't all. He flipped his right leg out when he walked; his right foot flopped around and he had his right hand in his pocket, perhaps using it to make sure his right knee locked when he took a step. I wondered about his right leg. I wondered if the accident, or whatever that had cost him his left leg, had also damaged his right leg. It seemed partially paralyzed.

I put out my hand, "My name is Jeff Becklund, what's yours?" He took his right hand out of his pocket and shook hands with me but then put it right back in his pocket to keep pressure on his right thigh. The hand was hard and heavily callused.

"No. She only said you were very very good with computers and that your left leg was amputated at the age of seven." He dropped his eyes, looking away from me. He was probably ashamed of his disability.

We walked into the repair room. I walked behind him and tried to see his glutes. It was hard to tell if one or both of them were atrophied. His suit coat covered them. In the repair room, he put his left hand down on a lab bench and shifted his left leg so that all his weight was on his right leg. It could be that his prosthetic left leg was bothering him. He kept his right hand in his pocket pressing on his right thigh to brace his right leg. That leg seemed capable of carrying his entire weight.

"Jose, this job consists of diagnosing and repairing computers among other things. See what you can make of the problem with this computer. While you're working, please talk to me describing what you're thinking. That'll help me evaluate your abilities." I wanted to see if he was a methodical thinker and I wanted to see how logical his thought processes were. Most of the candidates I had interviewed so far could not diagnose computer problems because they didn't think methodically or logically.

Jose limped over to the computer and sat down on a roll-around lab chair. He connected the computer to the display, keyboard and mouse, plugged the computer in and turned it on. The monitor came on and the lights on the computer flashed briefly and then went off.

"Well ... I think it is probably the power supply. The computer is not even booting."

"The power supply is set for 230 Volts rather than the 115 Volts we use in this country." He unplugged the computer, changed the selection to 115 Volts, plugged it back in again and pressed the switch on the front of the computer. This time, the computer booted. He listened to it briefly.

"Well ... the switch on the back was set incorrectly. I would like to see if there is a problem inside."

"We always try to do a thorough job. Yes, please open the case to see if there are additional problems." This was the computer I had set up to test him. He found the problem immediately. I was impressed. I was sure that there were no problems inside, so I let him look. He shut the computer down and removed the case and then turned the computer back on again. There was a second fan inside the case blowing directly on the microprocessor chip and it was not spinning.

"I didn't hear the fan inside when the computer first booted. Perhaps the computer might be overheating. That would cause it to crash after it heated up." We waited and watched the fan. It never turned.

"Jose, why don't you replace the fan for me?" I went to our supply room and got a replacement fan. He shut the computer down again, removed the old fan and installed the new one. When he turned the computer on again, the new fan started up fairly quickly after the computer booted. I was surprised. I had missed the bad fan and Jose had found it.

I walked across the room to the table where we kept the repaired machines. "No. I guess we should. We're so short-handed we barely have time to keep up with the repairs. This is the table where we store repaired computers before we return them to service. Why don't you put the case back on and bring the computer over here." I wanted to see him try to walk carrying a computer. I was sure he couldn't do it.

He didn't carry it. With some difficulty, he stood up, planted his right leg, reached down with both hands and placed the computer on the roll-around lab chair and, limping, pushed the chair across to me with his left hand while his right hand controlled his right leg. I didn't pick the computer up for him; I made him pick it up. He managed to do it and placed it on the lab bench next to me. He smiled, clearly enjoying the fact that he had passed this test, too.

"Here, have a seat. Do you think your disability would interfere with your job performance?" I was being deliberately vague but I needed some sort of answer. This guy was an excellent prospect for the job, but he seemed to have a devastating disability that might interfere with the more physical parts of the job. If he were incapable of doing the job, BB would use that against me. It could cost me my job. I wasn't going to take any chances with him; I needed my job.

"Well.... I do not see how it would interfere with computer repair. I did a good job at my school."

"What about the more physical aspects of the job, such as moving computers, climbing ladders, installing network drops, pulling wire, crawling under desks, moving furniture, etc.?"

"I am able to do those jobs as well." The stakes were very high and this guy was stonewalling me. He was ashamed and I was irritated. How could I get Jose to the point where he could talk easily about his disability and his needs?

"What happened to your right leg? It seems really weak." I was skeptical that he could do the more physical parts of the job and clearly we were dancing around the issue, so I asked directly now that I thought I knew the answer....

He sat down again. He didn't look at me. His face twitched and contorted. He looked like he was about to cry. Clearly this question upset him. "I ... uh...."

As a gay dev, it took all my self-control to keep from putting my arm around him and hugging him and promising to take care of him. Instead, I handed him a box of tissues.

I really liked Jose. It upset me that I had hurt him, but if I made a mistake hiring him, it might cost me my job. I reached across and patted him on his right thigh. It was soft and fairly thin but it did have some stringy muscle.

"No, not at all." I patted him on the right thigh again. I smiled. He smiled and sniffed. "Do you often wear a brace on your leg?"

"Look. I'm glad you're able to use a prosthetic leg. I'm glad your brace and crutches help you. I'm more interested in what you can do with your legs than what appliances you need to do it. But ... I prefer to work with people who respect me and are honest with me, who let me know when they are having problems ... who are comfortable asking for help when they need it. I would prefer you bring anything you might need to work with you. I know what it's like to be different and to be judged unfairly by others." Indeed, I did.

We sat and stared at each other for a moment. Jose continued to look scared. I guess I looked sad.

"You did an excellent job fixing this computer; I like the way you think when you work on computers. That's very good. I'm disappointed you didn't trust me enough to wear your brace and use your crutches today. We'll be working together. I am interested in how you use your legs and I need you to let me know when you need help and when you don't need help.

"That computer over there needs to be repaired, too. I'm going to have to leave for a few minutes, so I won't be able to listen to your explanation. Here's a notepad. Write down your thinking so I can see how you work. I'll be back in a few minutes."

"He did fine. I'd like to hire him. What can we do?" We both glanced toward BB's office. "Last year we got a person on contract from a temporary agency to help me. We paid him by the hour but we didn't hire him. Could we get Jose that way? ... as a temp without too much paperwork?"

"Yes, I do. I figure that if we can get him here as a temp, then when everyone sees how valuable he is, we could push to hire him."

She relaxed and gave me a big smile. "I knew he would do well if given a chance. Thank you."

"I should be the one thanking you. Could you do the paperwork to pay him as a temp? I'd like to start him right now if Gary will OK it." When we got temps, we didn't have to go through Human Resources with the endless paperwork they required and we didn't have to get BB's permission.

"Yes. He is free all day. That is why I brought him here today. I will fill out the paperwork."

"I'll check with Gary to see how much to pay him. I'll be in the repair room with him." She gave me a big smile.

Jose was looking at the set-up screen on the second bad computer when I got back to the repair room. I picked up the notepad and read what he had written. He seemed to be doing what I would have done. I picked up the first machine, the one he had just repaired, tucked it under my arm and carried it back to the office where it belonged.

It belonged in the office of BB's boss, Gary. He was in and we danced around the office as I plugged it into the power and network outlets and booted it up.

"Gary, I found a someone to help us out until we can hire a permanent assistant. He repaired your computer. He's very good. I'd like to hire him as a temp."

"Did you get rid of the intermittent problem where the computer just crashes for no reason?"

"He found a bad fan on the microprocessor. We both think that could be the cause of your problem. He replaced it. If you continue to have problems, let me know."

"Why don't you just hire this guy if he's so good? We don't want him to go somewhere else; we want to keep him, right?"

"Well, he has a bad limp. He can walk, though not very well. He might not be able to do the physical parts of the job. I'd like to bring him on as a temp to see how he works out - to see how much of the job he can do. If he works out, I'd like to hire him."

Gary had a son with Cerebral Palsy and that made him very sensitive to the needs of people with disabilities. As BB's boss, he would be an important ally if and when I decided to hire Jose.

"Keep me posted on how well he does. If he really has fixed my computer, I don't care how badly he limps. How much are you planning to pay him?"

"He's just out of high school. As far as I know, he doesn't even have a two-year associate's degree much less a four-year bachelor's degree."

"Well, OK. Bring him by and introduce him to me. If I approve, I'll talk to Mrs. Sanchez about the paperwork."

I went back to the repair room and helped Jose with the second dead computer. We managed to fix it. I asked Jose to come with me to reinstall the computer. It belonged to one of the foreign currency analysts who always seemed to be downloading virus-infected software. Jose was dressed up, so I did the crawling around on the floor to connect the computer with him giving me some help. Clearly his legs were a major problem.

On our way back to the repair room, we stopped off at Gary's office so I could introduce him to Jose.

"Gary, this is Jose Gallindez. Jose, this is Gary Oliver." They shook hands. "Jose is the guy I was telling you about."

"We are in the computer support business. Companies like this currency-trading firm, contract with us to take care of their computer and networking needs. Jeff and I don't work for the trading firm; we work for a different company, the computer support firm." He showed Jose his badge and pointed out the one I was wearing.

"The trading firm recently expanded to the floor above us and so we need additional help. Jeff would like you to work with us on an hourly basis at the rate of fifteen dollars an hour. You will be evaluated regularly. If you do well, you can expect to receive regular raises. Because you will be working on an hourly basis, you will not be receiving benefits, nor will we withhold taxes. Our executive assistant, Mrs. Sanchez, can explain all this to you. Do you have any questions?"

"Well, it's been a pleasure meeting you." Gary stood up and Jose struggled to his feet. They shook hands. Jose and I headed back to the repair room.

Back in the repair room, I sat him down and tried to explain. "I'd like for you to start work right now and work all day. Would that be OK?"

"Good. You've done well working on those two computers. I'm very pleased with your abilities, with your ability to think logically and clearly."

"I have only one worry. I worry about your legs and whether you can make it through the day. You are limping much more than you were an hour or two ago. By the time we get done today, I wonder whether you'll still be able to walk."

"Good. Then, how about I buy you lunch? We can talk more about the job over lunch."

"I know this little deli about 6 blocks north of here that I really like. Does that sound good to you? It's a fairly short walk if we use the steps in the plaza. What do you think?" I was deliberately baiting him to see if he would stop stonewalling me.

"What's wrong?" I noticed he was upset so I reached across and patted him on the thigh. I didn't say anything more. I just sat there quietly and waited until he decided to be honest with me.

"Because I am not wearing my brace, I am getting tired. I am not sure I can walk 12 blocks...." He started crying again. I handed him the box of tissues and put my arm around his shoulders. They were hard as a rock - heavily muscled. I ran my hand down his back. Hard, thick ropes of muscle ran down each side of his spine. Clearly Jose had a very powerful upper body.

When he stopped crying, I asked him to tell me about his legs. "Maybe it would be best for both of us if you talked about your legs so that I understand."

He looked past me. "I had polio when I was a year old. They amputated my left leg when I was seven years old. I had cancer."

"Before they amputated your leg, how well did you walk? Was your left leg stronger than your right leg?"

"I walked really well. Yes, the left leg was much stronger than my right leg." He looked down. He wouldn't look me in the eye.

"So, when they amputated your left leg, they took the stronger leg and left you with the weaker leg."

He answered in a very small voice. "Yes." Still looking down, huge tears dropped from his face and splashed on his pants. He dabbed at his eyes with a tissue.

"So, to be able to walk again, you needed a brace on your right leg and a prosthetic left leg?"

"Mostly I use forearm crutches ..." that explained the calluses on his hands and the powerful shoulders "... but I sometimes use underarm crutches."

"Sometimes, when I can't wear my prosthetic leg. Then, the only way I can walk is by using underarm crutches."

"Because you're tiring, you should probably have them here. Is there anyone at home to bring them over?"

He struggled to his feet. I put on the tie and suit coat I keep in our storeroom. On our way out of the repair room, I put my arm around him and gave him a hug. "I'm extremely proud of you."

"After all the problems you've had with your legs and the difficulty you have walking, today you were able to walk without using crutches or your brace - and you kept it up for a couple of hours. If you need to put a hand on my shoulder or grasp my arm to walk, please do. I'll always give you the help you need. I'm very proud of your abilities."

He gave me a tentative smile, grasped my elbow with his left hand and we walked over to Mrs. Sanchez's cubicle.

"Mrs. Sanchez? I'm going to take Jose to lunch at the restaurant on the one hundred and seventh floor. Could you call his home to see if someone can bring his brace and forearm crutches here? He's going to need them this afternoon."

Mrs. Sanchez looked at Jose and frowned, giving him a blast of Spanish. Puerto Rican Spanish seems to be spoken at about ten times the speed of regular Spanish and it took me a minute to decode what she said. It was something like, "I told you so," with additional flourishes. To me, she just said, "I will take care of it." We thanked her and headed for the elevators.

In order to reach the restaurant on the 107th floor, we had to take a local elevator to one of the sky lobbies and then transfer to the express elevator to go up to the restaurant. I was pleased that Jose never took his hand from my elbow until we sat down in the restaurant. I hoped he was learning.

Because it was just after 11:00AM, the restaurant was fairly empty and we were seated right away.

"It's a pretty clear day, so you can see a lot. We're in the North Tower. That's the South Tower. They look pretty much the same."

The lunch went smoothly. We ate slowly, enjoying the view. The company paid for our lunches. I warned Jose to pack his lunch every day because of the expense of eating in restaurants. I told him that my lunch for today was in our small fridge in the storeroom and that I would probably eat it for dinner when I got home.

When we got back to Mrs. Sanchez's cubicle, the brace, a matching shoe and forearm crutches had arrived. Jose seemed pretty embarrassed when she handed them to me to carry.

"Would it help to use the crutches now or do you need to put on the brace first?"

I handed him the crutches and we walked back to the repair room. He walked better with the crutches, but still not as well as I would have liked. We went into the small locked storeroom at the back of the repair room and I rolled a chair inside for him to sit on.

"No. I just need to put the brace and the matching shoe on." Still standing, he undid his pants and let them fall. His withered leg wasn't as thin as it felt. He sat down in his briefs. I bent over and took off his dress shoes and pants.

"Would you show me how to help you put the brace on?" Jose showed me what to do and pretty soon we had the brace on his leg. As I touched his leg, he started to get hard. His briefs bulged out. It seemed pretty large. He was embarrassed. "You're a very masculine guy!" He smiled.

All too soon he was dressed again and we were ready to handle other computer problems. Our job for the afternoon was to install software on several new computers that had arrived the previous week and replace some older computers with them. He walked much better with the brace and crutches.

The workload lightened up by about 4:00 PM so Jose and I had time to sit in the repair room and talk.

"Do you use any appliances other than the prosthetic leg, the crutches and the brace?"

"Then, I'd like you to have them with you every time you come to work. You also should not normally wear dress clothes because we have to crawl around so much. Wear work pants like mine or blue jeans."

"I'd like you to keep an extra pair here. Then, if you need them, they'll be available to you."

"I figure that when we have to do some of the more physical work, it might be best if you didn't wear your prosthetic leg. You'll need them then. You also should bring anything you need to put your leg back on when we're done.

"Without both of them, but with the underarm crutches, I can usually walk a short distance if my leg is braced so that the knee doesn't give way."

"It's a socket that fits over your stump to protect it. The type I am thinking of doesn't have a leg attached but it makes your stump more functional by protecting it. It will be useful when you have to crawl around." He looked at me skeptically. "If you have problem getting a stubby, I could help you."

"Mrs. Sanchez, Jose worked seven hours today. Jose, you should keep track of the number of hours you work each day and tell Mrs. Sanchez so she can keep track of it, too.

"Jose will need to wear rugged clothes to work and I'd like him to keep a pair of underarm crutches here in case he needs them. He also should bring his lunch to work to save money."

"No, he can wear clothes like the ones I wear or he can wear jeans. Would you please explain to him about saving money out of every paycheck to pay taxes?"

I went back to my cubicle and finished up some paperwork and managed to leave by 5:00 PM. Jose had been a big help and I had gotten a lot of work done that day.

Over the next several weeks Jose and I worked closely together. I was impressed by his ability to repair computers. He was much better than I was. He had problems crawling around on the floor but managed to do what was required even if it took him longer than it would have taken me. He didn't wish to remove his prosthetic leg when I thought it would be easier, but I didn't press the issue. I never asked him to climb a ladder. I tried to do the parts he would have trouble with, although he was doing that part of the job adequately. He received two raises. He seemed very happy with his job. I was very happy to have him working with me.

I hoped we were becoming friends. We usually ate lunch together in the repair room and talked over lunch. I began to like him more and more. He acted reserved around me. I assumed he was still upset about the way I treated him on his first day of work. I couldn't feel bad about that because my job was on the line. I tried to be extra nice to him to make up for that.

It didn't take BB long to find out I had hired Jose. He sent for me and accused me of doing it without his permission. I told him we hadn't hired Jose but had him under contract as a temp until we could find an assistant for me. I told him I had not stopped looking. He was angry, but there was not much he could do. He noticed Jose using crutches and questioned me as to whether Jose could do all parts of the job. I told him Jose had worked out OK so far but I was continuing to evaluate his abilities.

I protected Jose from BB as much as I could. Since he was a temp and was paid out of a budget that wasn't under BB's control, BB couldn't do much to hurt him. I'm not sure Jose understood how much effort I put into keeping him away from BB. It all worked out fine ... for a while....

One morning we needed to pull some networking cable through an access tube between floors.

"Jose, we're going to have to pull some networking cable. I'll need you to climb into an access port on this floor to help guide the cable as I feed it to you from the floor above. I'll move between floors and you'll need to crawl as far as possible into the access port and pull the cable down, so you'll need to remove your brace and prosthetic leg."

"Yeah. I think that would be best. There's not enough room in the port to use the prosthetic leg to move, but your stump would probably be very helpful. You will also need your right leg to be as flexible as possible."

"You'll need to be able to walk as far as the utility closet near the elevators." It was about 75 feet (23 meters).

"Jose, you've been candid about your legs and as a result we've worked well together. There hasn't been anything we couldn't do together. If you have a problem, please let me know. I'll do what I can to help you out."

We went over to the utility closet. I got out my key and opened it up. A phone switch and some networking equipment took part of the space in the closet. The floor was a rat's nest of wires. There was hardly enough room to turn around. Jose would have to crawl on the floor amidst the tangle of wires to wiggle into the access port. He looked around in the closet and sighed.

"I can't see any other way. Let's go." I pushed one of the roll-around lab chairs into the storeroom. He dropped his pants and sat down. I helped him with the brace and the prosthetic leg. He tried to drape his pants over the stump to hide it, but I moved the pants to get a good look at it. I looked at his face and noticed he was near tears again.

I put my hand under the stump, lifted it, stroking it with my thumb. It was as smooth as silk, just like his leg. "It's a nice stump. There's no reason to be ashamed of it. I'm sure it'll be really helpful when you crawl into the tube." He hardened up. "You are very masculine. That's really big!"

He smiled, said "Thank you" and reached up with his right hand to touch my shoulder.

I took the brace and leg out of his pants and helped him put the pants back on. His underarm crutches were in the corner of the storeroom and I got them for him. He pulled himself up on the crutches and I pulled his pants up over the now large bulge in his briefs and zipped and buttoned them. I tucked the left leg of his pants up into his waistband. He was hanging from his crutches. He struggled, pulling himself up again and again, desperately trying to straighten his leg so he could put his weight on it. He started sweating with the effort. He looked frantic. I reached across and pressed on the knee to straighten it. Finally he was standing and was able to relax. I kept my hand on his right knee.

"Can you walk without using the leg? I mean, can you keep all your weight on the crutches?"

"Why don't you sit back down and I'll carry the roll of cable upstairs. Then we'll walk to the closet together. I'll do whatever you need to help you walk."

When I got back, he was wiping his eyes. He had been crying again. I noticed he did not have a shoe on his little foot.

"It seems to me we have two options. One is for me to keep my hand on your leg to control the knee so you can use it to walk. The other is not to use the leg and to support all your weight on crutches. Do you see any other way?"

I helped him up again and he hung from the crutches, walking them forward, one at a time. The leg dragged behind him. He struggled forward slowly. The stump wiggled back and forth as he tried unconsciously to use it to walk. It was painful to watch. We made our way slowly to the closet. When we got there, I helped him down to the floor and opened the access panel.

I held his knee stiff and pushed on his foot to help him into the port. He didn't use his stump. "Crawl into the port as far as possible. I'll go upstairs and try to feed the cable down to you through the tube."

With the help of a flashlight, Jose caught the end of the cable and pulled it past him on the first try. I only had to run up and down the stairs a couple of times to make sure the cable fed correctly. I closed and locked the utility closet on the upper floor and came back down to help Jose out of the port.

"Jose? I'm going to pull lightly on your leg to help you back up. If you get stuck, let me know."

I pulled on his leg and he pushed with his arms. He came out of the port easily. He didn't seem to use his stump. We locked up the utility closet on the lower floor and I helped Jose up on his crutches. He started the long struggle back to the repair room, dragging his leg. On the way, we ran into BB....

He took one look at Jose and yelled, "JEFF, I WANT TO SEE YOU IN MY OFFICE IMMEDIATELY!" He stormed off.

We finally got back to the storeroom and I helped Jose put his brace and leg back on. He used a cloth to help pull his stump down into the socket of the prosthetic leg. He pushed down hard to make sure his stump was seated well in the socket before he screwed the suction cap in place. When he was ready to move around again on his forearm crutches, I went to BB's office.

BB was extremely angry, yelling at me in a loud voice: "You've gone too far this time! What do you mean bringing that cripple here? He doesn't have a handicap; he has only one leg and that one leg is useless! He can't even walk! He's a useless cripple dragging himself around like that. Whatever you're paying him, it's too much. The guy clearly can't do anything. Get rid of him now. I'm going to take this to headquarters. This is yet another example of your bad judgment and irresponsibility. What do you have to say for yourself?"

Very calmly, I replied: "As you know, we didn't hire him: we have him here on contract, paying him on an hourly basis. I'm evaluating him to see how well he can do the job in case you wish to hire him. He's not useless. He is excellent at repairing computers. He is only adequate when it comes to the crawling around we need to do when installing a machine. Today he helped me pull cable between floors. His help was very valuable. We did it on the first try. So, his physical handicap is a negative, but it doesn't prevent him from doing his part of the job as near as I can tell. I'm glad you're going to take this to headquarters. When we discuss it at that level, I'm going to recommend that we hire him."

BB was enraged. He just sat there yelling and turning a bright purple. Veins popped out on his forehead. Eventually, I left. When I turned the corner outside his door, I found Mrs. Sanchez and Jose standing there listening. She was wringing her hands. He just stared down at the floor, occasionally looking at me out of the corner of his eye.

"I don't know. Jose was very valuable today helping me to pull networking cable between floors. It's clear now that he can do all parts of the job. He'd do better crawling around if he wore a stubby. I'm willing to help him when he goes to buy a stubby if he wants me to help."

"You and I still need to cut the cable, put ends on it and connect it to the routers. Let's go." We needed to finish the job before the phone people stole our cable.

We finished the job in both utility closets, taking the elevator between floors. Jose knew something about networking and was an attentive student as I explained what I was doing.

When we got back to the repair room, he said in a very quiet voice, "I do not know how to thank you for defending me."

"I do not know how to do that." He moved his crutches. Clearly his arms were busy.

"Come, stand over there and lean against the wall. Then, you won't need the crutches and your arms will be free for a hug."

Jose crutched over to the wall, turned and leaned against it. When he was comfortable, he leaned his crutches against the wall, freeing his arms. I walked over to him and he put his arms around me and gave me a big hug. I carefully hugged him back, trying not to disturb his balance. He used his right hand to rub my shoulder.

"Do I excite you?" He turned a bright red. Clearly he was embarrassed by the question. "How old are you, Jose?"

Over lunch in the repair room, we talked about ourselves. Jose finally opened up to me and I to him. Jose was 2 years older than the usual high school graduate because he had lost a year when he and his mother moved to New York from Puerto Rico and another year when his leg was amputated. I told him I was from Minnesota and had moved to New York after college.

He loved to read. So did I. Besides our mutual interest in computers, we found we also both liked to read science fiction. We loved some of the same authors and had strong differences about others. We had fun talking to one another, kidding each other about our differences in taste.

He was planning to attend college on a part-time basis to get his associate's (2-year) degree in computer technology. I told him I had finished college with a bachelor's (4-year) degree in computer science and, because he was very intelligent, I encouraged him to think about getting a bachelor's degree, too.

He lived with his mother near his aunt and many other relatives. I told him I lived alone in a small one-bedroom apartment on the Upper East Side. I told him it was accessible and that I would like to have him visit if he wished.

We both worked out at health clubs. We both swam for exercise. He used a local public association and I used a private club. I invited him to visit my club as my guest. There would be a nominal charge.

I told him I would like to get together with him on a social basis as well as on a professional basis.

As the weeks passed, Jose and I became closer. I really liked him. He had a great personality and a wicked sense of humor that he seldom showed. Most of the time he was extremely serious.

We started swimming together either at my club or at the public association he used. He was very shy and I never got to see more than just his stump or his thin leg. Once, when no one was watching and we were close to one another in a corner of the pool, he touched my shoulder and let me touch his leg and his stump. Our touching never went beyond that and he never visited my apartment. Nevertheless, we became pretty good friends.

It turned out that BB never did take the issue of Jose to headquarters. I suppose he felt he would be giving me an opportunity to hire Jose. He never let me forget that he was watching and waiting for us to make a mistake. He told me that I deserved to be fired and he would use any mistake by Jose or me as an excuse to get rid of me.

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Tuesday, September 11, 2001 dawned bright and clear. It was going to be a beautiful day. I thought that maybe even BB would be in a good mood. Not a chance.

He was in one of his sadistic moods, ranting about inventory in the storeroom. Apparently he had discovered a discrepancy the previous day. Jose and I would have to stop our repair work to take inventory and then try to account for missing items. When we finished, we would have to work late to catch up with our repair work.

We had just started the inventory when there was an extremely loud noise and the building lurched. I was sitting down on one of the roll around chairs and I felt the building move back and forth beneath me as I bounced up and down. Jose was standing and was thrown to the floor. When the building stopped moving, I helped Jose to his feet. He was OK.

On our floor, people were running around talking excitedly. No one seemed to know what had happened.

I had my PC set up so that it could receive television signals. Jose and I went into my cubicle to use it to see what had happened. After a few minutes, one of the television stations began broadcasting a picture of our building with smoke pouring out of some of the top floors.

I told Jose we were leaving via the stairwell just past the elevators. I asked him if he needed anything. He shook his head no. He looked scared.

We stopped at Mrs. Sanchez's cubicle and I told her to get her stuff and leave with us.

"You can't take the elevators in an emergency. We're taking the stairs just beyond the elevators."

I turned away and led Jose toward the stairwell. BB intercepted us near the elevators and told me to return to work. "Stay here. There's no reason to leave now. Wait for instructions. They'll tell us what to do."

I ignored BB and continued to the stairwell. I held the door to the stairwell for Jose and followed him down the steps. There were only a few others in the stairwell at that point. The stairs between each floor came in two flights separated by a small landing halfway between the floors. At each floor, there was a larger landing with a door to that floor opening into the stairwell. The stairs reversed direction at each landing, the stairwell forming a straight vertical shaft.

Jose went down the steps by lowering his legs from the current step to the one below by using his arms and crutches. Then he brought his crutches down and repeated the process. The technique used his powerful upper body muscles.

As we moved down the steps the amount of traffic increased. The stairs were barely wide enough for two streams of people walking down, so one stream could always move around us as we descended the steps. At this point, we were moving more slowly than the others and the stairs were narrow, so we moved against the walls at the landings to let both streams go around us. This gave Jose a chance to rest his arms while people moved past us and we reentered the stream of traffic when a break occurred.

Eventually the traffic became continuous. Then, when we would stop, I would wait for Jose to tell me he was ready to tackle the next bank of steps before we reentered the traffic stream. People descending the stairs were extremely polite and quiet, speaking very little. There was speculation about what had happened. I listened and the main sound was the tramp of shoes on the stairs. Occasionally there would be another person with a disability being helped down the stairs. I remember a woman in a chair being carried by two men, one above her and one below. There were others I don't remember very well. I wondered if all of the helpers were devs like me.

As we descended, it got warmer and warmer in the stairwell. At one point, Jose told me he needed to stop for a longer period. Fortunately, at that floor the door to the stairwell was not locked (some were locked for security reasons). I helped Jose onto that floor of the tower and found a chair where he could sit for a few minutes. He sat down and swung his arms around and flexed his hands as if he was getting the kinks out of them. The area outside the stairwell was much cooler than the stairwell. I realized we had been sweating pretty heavily.

"Yes. We're more than halfway down." Our place of work was below the fortieth floor and we probably had descended about twenty of those floors.

"When you gave me that hug, I told you I really liked you. I meant it. You're my friend. I won't leave you. I'll take care of you." He nodded. It was then that I realized I was in love with him and that I would give my life for him.

"Is there some way I could help you to move down the stairs more easily? I could put my arm around you or you could put an arm around me."

"I don't know. Someone said that an airplane hit the tower near the top. That's consistent with the picture we saw on the TV. I just don't know."

Suddenly there was another thud. When things settled down, I helped Jose to his feet and we continued our trip. We had no idea what happened and no one in the stairwell knew either.

Soon, policemen and firemen started coming up the stairs. This slowed the traffic by allowing only one stream to go down the stairs, making it easier for us to keep up with the traffic. In spite of that fact, it became even harder for Jose to maintain his pace; we were starting to cause a traffic jam.

Step by step, landing by landing, floor by floor we descended. From time to time we stopped to rest. As we descended, the rest periods became longer and the number of flights we descended between them became fewer.

Jose signaled that he wanted to stop again. We found a door that was not locked and I helped Jose sit in a chair. I looked at his eyes. They had a dull look to them. "Why don't you leave me and go on. I'll try to follow later."

"I do not know how much longer I can go on. If you stay with me, you will not make it out of the building."

We only had a few floors to go. Clearly we needed help. I opened the door and went back into the stairwell. I saw two big firemen coming up the steps. "Could you come here? I need your help."

"OK." They handed their equipment to others and picked up the chair with Jose in it. I took his crutches and we headed into the stairwell and down the steps. Jose didn't say anything. His eyes still had a dull, glazed look.

The firemen were clearly very strong. They walked down the steps, one above him and one below, carrying him in the chair, easily keeping up with the traffic. Soon, we exited the stairwell onto the Mezzanine. I looked around and saw many firemen in the lobby below. One wore a clerical collar and seemed to be praying. The floor was covered in glass and the firemen made crunching noises as they moved around.

Periodically there was a loud bang as something hit the ground. I looked to see what it was and realized it was caused by the impact of the bodies of those jumping out of the windows of the building. We continued to follow the line of people. We went down an escalator to the lobby.

There were paramedics in the lobby. The firemen turned Jose over to them. They examined him briefly, put him on a stretcher and we followed the line of people into the concourse. When we came up on Church St., they carried him to their truck. They gave us water to wash out our eyes and water for us to drink. They checked Jose over carefully and said he was just tired. I asked them where we could get a taxi. They said they didn't know but that the streets were blocked off. They offered to drive us to a hospital. I accepted. They put Jose on a stretcher in their truck next to a woman they had treated. I sat next to Jose, holding his hand. The palms of his hands were bright red with the pattern of the rubber handgrips on his crutches embossed into them. His eyes still had a blank glazed look.

We drove off slowly. Eventually the truck stopped and they opened the doors at the rear. The streets were packed with people looking south but moving north. We were at the entrance to a hospital, stopped next to a taxi. I helped Jose up and almost carried him over to the taxi. We got in and I gave the driver my address.

As we drove away, there was an extremely loud roar and an incredibly strong wind that rocked the taxi. A cloud of gray dust blew past us carrying all sorts of debris. It was like a fog.

The driver drove north slowly but steadily through the gray dust. When it cleared I noticed we were covered in a film of gray grit.

Even though we drove slowly, it didn't take us long to get to my apartment building. I practically had to carry Jose out of the cab and stand him on his feet and crutches.

With some effort, I got Jose to move into and out of the elevator and then into my small apartment. I took him to the bathroom: we needed to get the gray dust washed off.

I sat him on the bathroom rug and turned on the bathtub faucets. "We need to wash this gray stuff off. I'm going to undress you and take off your brace and prosthetic leg and help you into the tub."

He didn't respond. His eyes were still dull looking. He had gone somewhere inside himself. He probably didn't even hear me.

He slowly leaned over and fell onto his side, curling up in a fetal position on the bathroom rug. I started removing his clothes. He didn't help; he just lay there. I got his brace off and found blisters on his foot. There was blood oozing from under the toenail of his big toe.

Then, I tried to remove the prosthetic leg. Even though I unscrewed the suction cap, the stump was stuck in the socket. It seemed to be swollen. Every time I pulled on the leg to try to remove it, he whimpered.

"I'm sorry this hurts. Your stump is swollen. We need to get it out of the socket." As I pressed on the stump and wiggled the socket, his whimpering became louder. Eventually, I got the leg off. There was blood on the stump. It was badly swollen.

I checked the temperature of the bath. It was OK so I tried to lift him to put him in the tub. I couldn't lift him.

"We need to get you into the bathtub so we can wash this gray stuff off." He didn't move.

Eventually, I knelt, got him draped across my shoulders and heaved him up off the floor by bracing my arm on the side of the bathtub. "Help me, Jose."

He put his arms on each side of the tub and dragged himself into it. I put him at the far end of the tub, with his back resting against the slanted end. I took off my clothes and climbed into the near end of the tub with the faucets.

My tub doesn't have a real shower; it has a small showerhead on a hose that can be used to rinse off. I turned on the water to the showerhead and sprayed it on Jose and me. The water turned grimy, so I emptied the tub and refilled it. While it was refilling, I picked up Jose's leg, put the foot in my lap and stroked the leg.

As I stroked his leg, he came back from wherever he had gone inside himself. He began to get hard. I got hard, too. He smiled. "You are also a masculine guy!" I guess I turned red. "Please do not be embarrassed. Do you like my leg?"

"Yes. I like men who look like you, men with blond hair and blue eyes. You are very handsome."

"Me? I am not handsome. I am a cripple." He looked at my shoulder and turned red.

"Yes. Very handsome." I repeated it in Spanish. "Si. Muy guapo." I leaned over and hugged him. He hugged me back so I kissed him on the neck. He kissed me the same way.

I decided we needed to shampoo our hair, not just rinse it off as I had done, so I stood up to get some shampoo.

After we were reasonably cleaned up, I got out of the tub and put a layer of towels on the floor covering the rug and the floor. I dried myself off and noticed Jose staring at me. "Your hair is blond everywhere."

I emptied the tub and helped Jose get out of the tub. I sat him on the towels next to the tub and began drying him off.

"Your stump is really swollen. Does it hurt?" It was so swollen, it looked like a balloon. There were red spots on it where it had been bleeding.

I put him down flat on his back on the towels and dried him off as well as I could. I got one of the milk crates I use for furniture and put it so that I could raise his leg and support his lower leg up on the crate while he lay flat on his back on the floor. "Is that better?"

"I'd like to put some ice on your stump to reduce the swelling. Would that be OK?"

"I'm just going to go to the kitchen to get some ice and put it in sandwich bags. I'll be right back."

I put some ice in three small sandwich bags and brought them into the bathroom and placed one on each side of the stump and one on the top. "If you feel cold, let me know. I can cover you with some towels."

"While we rest here, I could bring my TV so we could watch it. It's in the living room so I'll have to leave you for a minute. It will only take a minute to get it. I'll be right back. OK?"

My TV is on a cart with wheels, so I rolled it to the door of the bathroom and turned it on. It took me a minute to find a station and adjust the antenna so that I had a clear picture. I lay on the floor next to Jose and held his hand while we watched the awful images over and over.

It was raining bodies. They were falling from the sky like raindrops, splashing on the ground....

I stroked the leg and found the thin muscles on the back of the calf and the thigh knotted. He was having muscle spasms. I realized that it was probably due to the amount of sweating we had done. We probably lost a lot of potassium. If I could restore the potassium to his body, the spasms would ease. But first, I had to relax the muscle. I kept stroking the leg gently.

"If I rub hard, the spasm will go away more quickly but I might damage the withered muscle. I don't want to hurt your leg; I want to help it." I got up to go into the kitchen to get a banana.

"I'm just going into the kitchen to get you a banana. It will restore the potassium you lost through sweat. When it's restored, the spasms will stop."

When I returned, I fed Jose my last banana and went back to stroking his leg. I could feel the knots in his muscles relax.

I picked up his leg and sat down on the milk crate. I put his foot against my crotch and stroked his leg. Jose began to look very sad.

"I am sad because my foot is paralyzed." His foot twitched sideways against me a bit. Then he smiled.

"You're teasing me!" The smile became bigger. I rubbed his foot against me. He laughed.

I pulled the ice bags off the stump and noticed the swelling had gone down. I dried the stump and put antiseptic cream on the red spots.

"No. It is just cold." I dumped the bags of ice into the sink and we lay there and watched the TV some more. Jose held my hand.

"It's in the bedroom/living room. Do you need help to move in there? I don't want you to hurt your stump, so I could hold your hips up and you could move using your arms. I'm not strong enough to carry you."

I put my arm around his waist and we crawled forward, Jose using his two arms and one leg and me using my two legs and one arm.

Jose looked back at me, smiling. "Now you are teasing me!" I smiled back and kissed him on the shoulder.

I got Jose into bed and handed him the phone. I had tried it before when I went for the banana, but couldn't get a dial tone. Jose managed to get his mother and tell her where he was and that he was OK.

I called Mrs. Sanchez. She was at home and worried. She had walked across the Brooklyn Bridge. I told her that both Jose and I were OK and that he was staying with me until he could use his legs again. I told her he was very tired but was otherwise OK. I asked her if anyone else got out of the building. She said she didn't know. I told her I would keep in touch and then gave the phone to Jose so he could talk with his aunt. They spoke briefly and he hung up.

"Are you sure there is no one for you to call? What about your family back home in Minnesota?"

"My mom and dad came to visit New York last year. While they were here, I told them I was gay. They said they didn't ever want to see me or talk to me again. They haven't spoken to me since. So, I don't have a home or a family. Now I don't have a job either."

"They are very religious: Lutheran. BB always claimed that our wing of the Lutheran Church is too liberal, but apparently it isn't liberal enough. What about you? Have you told your family you're gay?"

"I spent Thanksgiving alone here in my apartment watching videos. Your aunt gave me some food. Christmas was pretty bad. I was all alone. I worked a lot. I even worked Christmas Day."

Jose reached up from the bed and gave me a hug. "I also know what it is like to feel all alone."

"After they took my leg, I could not play with the others and have fun. I could not play baseball, basketball or soccer. I could not run or climb. I could not do anything. They made fun of me. I did not have any friends. Some kids feel bad because they are chosen last for games. I was not chosen last; I was never chosen at all. Eventually I gave up and spent my time alone mostly reading books. That is how I got interested in computers."

I reached down and hugged him back. "I'm going into the bathroom to clean up a bit and then bring the TV in here. I'll be right back."

I used tissues to blow my nose and wipe off my face. Then, I cleaned up the towels, put our clothes into the washing machine, picked up my shoes, his brace, crutches and prosthetic leg and wiped them off. I brought them into the bedroom and returned for the TV.

I was ashamed that I had given Jose such a hard time about his legs. I had been worried that any failure on his part might cause me to lose my job. Now it was all gone anyway. I should have treated him much more kindly. My life was as wrecked as those buildings: it was all turned into gray dust - all except for Jose.

After adjusting the TV, I sat down with my back to the bed to watch the pictures. Jose moved himself over on the bed so that his head was next to mine and he leaned over and kissed me on the shoulder. I kissed him back on the lips. He put his arms around my neck and rubbed my shoulder as I sat there. As we watched TV, I dozed off again.

I was all alone in a dense gray fog, lost. Gradually I began to make out ghostly shapes moving back and forth in front of me. I tried to reach out to them, but I couldn't. My arm was gone. I didn't have any arms at all.

I couldn't see who the ghosts were. Gradually they came closer. Two looked like my parents. Others were policemen and firemen. All were covered in gray dust. They looked like ghosts -- dead. I tried to ask for help, but no one saw me or heard me. They ignored me.

"I dreamed of the policemen and firemen who went into the buildings to help people and died."

"Yeah, I guess they were afraid. But they went up anyway because they're heroes."

I turned around to face Jose and knelt next to the bed. I wanted to pray but couldn't think of anything to say except for The Lord's Prayer. I bowed my head.

I started praying quietly but audibly and was doing OK until I got to "deliver us from evil." Then, I began sobbing. I couldn't stop.

"I will be your family. I love you. I will take care of you...." He squeezed me tightly in his powerful arms.

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