The name of a victim killed in the Sept. 11, 2001 terrorist attacks appears misspelled in the newly-opened memorial at the former site of the World Trade Center (WTC) in New York City.
The error was discovered by Jeffrey Schreier's sister, Janice Hart, who visited the memorial Sunday on the 10th Anniversary of the 9/11 tragedy and her brother’s death. The inscription reads "Jeffery" instead of "Jeffrey," and is the only reported mistake out of the 2,983 names carved in the memorial plate.
"This is the only place we could go to have some solace, and to see his name engraved incorrectly was very distressing to us," she told NBC News, NY.
Hart's husband seemed to take the error as a personal afront, dishonoring his brother-in-law's memory, remarking that seeing the mistake made him feel as if Jeffrey's soul was "now looking down and saying, 'Can't you get my name right?'
The solace the Schreier family is looking for can't be found in a memorial plate. Names graven in plaques of bronze cannot bring back a loved one lost; they cannot wipe away our tears of grief; they cannot erase the pain of life’s losses. In life and in death, genuine solace comes only from the Lord. He is “the only place we can go” to find the comfort we seek. “He will swallow up death forever. The Sovereign LORD will wipe away the tears from all faces; he will remove the disgrace of his people from all the earth” (Isaiah 25:8).
A name inscribed on a plaque is empty solace when compared to the promises of God.
“Though you have made me see troubles, many and bitter, you will restore my life again; from the depths of the earth you will again bring me up. You will increase my honor and comfort me once again” (Psalm 71:20-21).
"The Flying Rodleighs are trapeze artists who perform in the German circus Simoneit-Barum. When the circus came to Freiburg two years ago, my friends Franz and Reny invited me and my father to see the show. I will never forget how enraptured I became when I first saw the Rodleighs move through the air, flying and catching as elegant dancers. The next day, I returned to the circus to see them again and introduced myself to them as one of their great fans. They invited me to attend their practice sessions, gave me free tickets, asked me to dinner, and suggested I travel with them for a week in the near future. I did, and we became good friends.
"One day, I was sitting with Rodleigh, the leader of the troupe, in his caravan, talking about flying. He said, 'As a flyer, I must have complete trust in my catcher. The public might think that I am the great star of the trapeze, but the real star is Joe, my catcher. He has to be there for me with split-second precision and grab me out of the air as I come to him in the long jump.' 'How does it work?' I asked. 'The secret,' Rodleigh said, 'is that the flyer does nothing and the catcher does everything. When I fly to Joe, I have simply to stretch out my arms and hands and wait for him to catch me and pull me safely over the apron behind the catchbar.'
"'You do nothing!' I said, surprised. 'Nothing,' Rodleigh repeated. 'The worst thing the flyer can do is to try to catch the catcher. I am not supposed to catch Joe. It's Joe's task to catch me. If I grabbed Joe's wrists, I might break them, or he might break mine, and that would be the end for both of us. A flyer must fly, and a catcher must catch, and the flyer must trust, with outstretched arms, that his catcher will be there for him.'
Henri J. M. Nouwen was trained as a Roman Catholic priest and a psychologist, attending Yale, Harvard, and Notre Dame. He has authored over twenty books, including “Genesee Diary,” “The Wounded Healer,” and “The Road to Daybreak.” He is a modern day contemplative whose devotional influence has been felt extensively throughout evangelical Christianity.
Nouwen concluded:
"When Rodleigh said this with so much conviction, the words of Jesus flashed through my mind: 'Father into your hands I commend my Spirit.' Dying is trusting in the catcher. To care for the dying is to say, 'Don't be afraid. Remember that you are the beloved child of God. He will be there when you make your long jump. Don't try to grab him; he will grab you. Just stretch out your arms and hands and trust, trust, trust.'"
"Then Jesus shouted, 'Father, I entrust my spirit into your hands!' And with those words he breathed his last" (Luke 23:46, cf. Psalm 31:5).
As you go through life, remember that when played together, they make beautiful music.