Reading Activity

Sept. 13, 2006 A Hero in Our Midst

by Justice Paul E. Pfeifer

This week marks the fifth anniversary of the Sept. 11 terrorist attacks on the United States. The news that day was nothing but grim; horror unleashed on a large scale. But recently, those of us who work at the Supreme Court of Ohio discovered an unexpected ray of light that emerged from the darkness of that day, and in the process learned a lesson about bravery and humility, and that greatness can be right before your eyes without you even knowing it.

Last month Paramount Pictures released a movie about the attack in New York City. The film, entitled World Trade Center, was directed by Oliver Stone – the man who makes movies that sometimes raise almost as much controversy as they do cash. This time, Stone has made a pretty conventional film that tells the true story of two New York City Port Authority police officers who were trapped under the crumbled towers.

While the movie focuses primarily on the police officers – John McLoughlin and Will Jimeno – there are two other characters vital to the story: the two Marines who found the trapped men and led others to their rescue.

One of the Marines, Staff Sergeant David Karnes, was actually two years out of the Corps and working as an accountant in Connecticut at the time. When he heard about the attacks that morning, Karnes put on his old uniform and headed into the city to help with rescue efforts. In the days following Sept. 11, Karnes spoke with the press and his story is well chronicled in the movie.

The other man, known only as Sergeant Thomas, remained something of a mystery. Karnes encountered Thomas in the chaos surrounding the collapsed towers, teamed up with him to search the wreckage, and then, after the rescue, never saw him again. Like a mythic figure of old, Thomas had seemingly just appeared where people were in peril, performed his heroics, then vanished into the mist and confusion.

For five years no one knew who he was, though the police and other authorities searched for him. The filmmakers sought him as well. When they came up empty, the movie was made without knowing any more about Sergeant Thomas.

But when commercials for the film began appearing on television, the movie, you might say, found Sergeant Thomas. When he saw the previews he recognized his character on the screen. After nearly five years of silence, Sergeant Thomas finally decided to come forward.

Sergeant Thomas is actually Jason Thomas. And, as it turns out, Jason is now a security officer here at the Supreme Court of Ohio, in Columbus. For more than two years Jason has kept a watchful eye over all of us, and no one at the court – not his close friends or his casual acquaintances – had ever heard about his role on Sept. 11.

And it's not as if Jason is easy to miss. He is a mountain of a man, a broad-shouldered former football player who exudes – and inspires – confidence. If you didn't know Jason had been a Marine, you would think he ought to become one. They should use him for the recruitment posters.

But until the movie came out, this quiet man never felt the need to speak of what he'd done. While his humility makes his brave deeds even more inspiring, it did have an unfortunate consequence: without knowing anything about him, the filmmakers were unable to tell his story.

For starters, they made one major mistake: Jason is African-American; the actor who plays him is white. The movie's producer has apologized to Jason over dinner, and Oliver Stone sent him a letter saying he was sorry. For his part, Jason isn't concerned about the honest mistake. He was more upset about being depicted as a private. “I earned my rank,” he said about his movie demotion.

Beyond that, his story from that day is a compelling one. That morning, Jason was dropping off his newborn daughter at his mother's house on Long Island before heading off to class. His mother met him on the porch and told him that a plane had hit one of the twin towers. Sensing this wasn't a freak accident, Jason's first words to her were: “They got us.”

Although Jason had been out of the Marine Corps for a year, his uniform was in the trunk of his car. Why was it there? Because he was in the middle of moving, and he didn't want his most valued possession – his Marine uniform – getting lost among the boxes.

Donning his uniform, he told his mother to contact his wife, Kirsti, who worked in midtown Manhattan , to tell her that he was headed to the crash site. “I had all this military training,” he said. “That's my city. I felt compelled to help out.” His mother didn't try to stop him. “She knew it would be a waste of words.”

He wasn't worried about Kirsti's safety. “I know God took that burden completely off my shoulders because he had a task that he wanted me to fulfill,” he said. Was Kirsti worried about him when she learned where he went? “I don't know,” he said with a chuckle as he realized, “We never had that conversation.”

He saw the second tower collapse as he drove down the Westside Highway. “That was very emotional, because I knew how many people worked there.”

As he got out of his car, the smoke and ash engulfed him. Sticking his head into his shirt for air, he crouched down as the world went dark around him. Then, while dozens ran for safety away from the buildings, Jason Thomas bowed his back and ran toward the fallen towers.

What makes a man run into danger rather than from it? Part of it, Jason said, is his upbringing. His parents taught him – and his ten brothers and six sisters – to never leave someone behind. “You go together, you come back together,” their mother always told them.

And then there's the Marine training. Robert Kaplan, a journalist who was embedded with the Marines in Fallujah, has written that running into gunfire “rather than seeking cover from it goes counter to every human survival instinct – trust me.” But in Fallujah, Kaplan saw Marines – without being ordered – running straight into the direction of fire time and again.

Although they didn't know it, John McLoughlin and Will Jimeno – trapped and dying beneath a mountain of concrete and steel – were about to reap the benefits of Jason Thomas's Marine training, and the sense of duty, instilled by his parents, to help those in need.