Harry Goody III

Harry Goody III

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    This article appeared in the Knoxville News Sentinel, August 23, 2015: Old friends meet again for the first time. By: Sam Venable NEW YORK Harry Goody and I finally came full circle. This occurred Tuesday, Aug. 4 when I stood at the 9/11 Memorial and slowly ran my fingertips across his name, etched into Panel S48 of the beautiful, yet sobering, waterfall monument. Most people's eyes well with tears when they visit this horrible, hallowed site. Mine were no exception. Harry was among the estimated 2,735 World Trade Center employees who perished in the terrorist attacks of Sept. 11, 2001. He was 50, married with three children, and worked for the New York state tax and finance office on the 86th floor of Tower Number Two. Like so many others on that cool, blue-skied September morning, he merely was doing his job, minding his own business. Then his life ended during hell on Earth, the worst day in American history. I never knew Harry personally. Yet he has been my soul brother and traveling companion for years. It happened like this: The 10th anniversary of 9/11 fell on a Sunday. At our church that morning, parishioners were asked to select a name from the victims list, write it on an arm band via Sharpie pen and wear it several days in reflective tribute. I picked Harry Goody for two reasons: Harry is the first name of my friend and former editor, Harry Mosklos; Goody was a favorite expression of my late mother-in-law, Opal Steinhoff. As I discovered via Internet, he and I shared several things in common. Harry had an interest in the outdoors. He owned a mountain bike and often rode it through the wilderness of Central Park. What's more, his nickname was Chucky, close to the name I'm called by a handful of longtime hunting and fishing buddies. As it turned out, the band was too tight for my wrist. So I wrapped it around my walking stick. It remains there to this day. Together, Harry and I have hiked hundreds of miles of trails through East Tennessee. He has accompanied me numerous times on overnight treks to the summit of Mount LeConte in the Smokies. Now here I stood, after an exciting (albeit exhausting) day of touring the Big Apple; Central Park, the Statue of Liberty, the High Line, Trinity Church, and other iconic destinations in this dynamic city. For the first time since 9/11, I was back on Harry's home turf, staring at his name and thousands of others who were killed in the insanity of perverted religious fervor. It was at that very moment a poignant thought stuck ever-so-emotionally: I had shown East Tennessee to Harry. Now, he had returned the favor. Thank you, my dear old friend. God bless you and all the others who died so senselessly, Author may be reached at sam.venable@outlook.com Posted by Jennifer Greene

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