Kevin, 9 Years have passed since those selfish, crazy, inhumane bastards ripped you from this Earth.
9 Years of hoping and praying that when you left us it was sudden and without pain.
There is not a day that goes by that I don’t think about you, remember the fun times with everyone. For everyday I have a picture of you on my dresser that I look at when I get ready to go wherever it is I have to go, that you no longer can, sitting right next to a picture of the WTC that i took when I visited many years before I even knew you.
Once a year we are forced to relive the pain that those people caused far too many of us. Civilians, working to pay the bills, support their families, or feel that they have arrived when they looked out of those windows atop one of the largest buildings at that time, which you did. You were great a what you did, so many times helping me figure out what the problems were, when no one else was around and even though it wasn’t your job to do so. That was you though, always extending your hand out to others when they needed you. Always had your door open to welcome friends and family no matter the time, day or night.
Kevin, your death does not go in vain, we try everyday to fight for what they took and what they continually try to take from us, from their own people even. It does not make sense; your tragic exit from us does not make sense. 9-11, a day that doesn’t make sense.
Every year when the bell tolls the 1st time, it rings through me like ice, for that is when the plane took your life. The 4th toll is even colder because that is when your tower was nothing more than a mass grave.
We hoped, we prayed that you took the day off, or were out for a jog.. but like me, you were the early bird. Always starting the day when noone else was there because you can get more done that way, as i laugh.
Today i will not be laughing. I will be remembering you and those lost both civilian and military since this started.
May you eternally Rest In Peace Kevin.
Friends Everywhere
When Kevin S. Cohen was 4, his family moved to a new house in Edison, N.J. Rather than being daunted by the move, little Kevin, the youngest of two boys, set out to make new friends. Soon, he was standing at his front door pointing to all the houses where he had made a friend.
“He would point with his little hands and say, ‘That’s my friend across the street, and that’s my friend from next door, and that’s my other friend from that house,’ ” said his mother, Marcia Cohen. “And then, he never changed. He was like a mother that way. You know how children leave home and then it’s the mother who brings them together year after year? Well, it was like that with my son. He had friends from all over. He was very compassionate, a lot of fun. He loved people, and people loved him back.”
On Aug. 17, Mr. Cohen, 28, who worked at Cantor Fitzgerald, took his parents to dinner at a fancy Italian restaurant to celebrate their 36th wedding anniversary. Mrs. Cohen was reluctant at first because she figured he would be tired on a Friday, after working all week. But he insisted.
“Kevin was so proud that he could take us to a nice place like that and take out his credit card and pay by himself,” Mrs. Cohen said. “He thought we had never been there before, but we had. We just didn’t tell him.”
Profile published in THE NEW YORK TIMES on November 24, 2001.
Kevin Cohen, 28, always on the go
Kevin Cohen loved to watch college and pro football — he always rooted for the underdog — and his favorite hobby was playing the keyboards in his
New York City apartment, where the door was always open to friends.
Single, he possessed both boundless energy and a kind heart; he was the kind of guy who would call a friend’s mother, a widow, on Thanksgiving, and wish her well.
“I told him (recently), ‘Kevin, why don’t you slow down a bit?’ ” his mother, Marcia, of Edison, recalled. “He said, ‘Mom, I believe in living life to the fullest.’ “
Mr. Cohen, 28, a desktop support person for eSpeed, was working on the 101st floor of the
World Trade Center‘s
North Tower when the first hijacked airplane crashed into it on Sept. 11. His roommate, Scott Schertzer, 28, who worked for Cantor Fitzgerald, eSpeed’s parent company, was also among those lost.
Mr. Schertzer and Mr. Cohen attended
J. P. Stevens High School in Edison together. Mr. Cohen went on to graduate from Western
Oregon State College. He continued his studies in computers and became a Microsoft Certified Professional. Mr. Cohen then worked for Lucent Technologies before joining eSpeed a year and a half ago.
“He worked hard and played hard,” said Neil Cohen, his brother. “The guy was always on the go. He had more energy than anyone.”
“He had a great attitude,” Marcia Cohen said of her son. “Nothing got him down . . . He would call up and say, ‘Mom, I’m coming in and taking you out (for an anniversary or special occasion).’ It’s not like he was married and knew these things. He was single.’ “
Mr. Cohen loved to play and listen to music; his favorite groups were Widespread Panic and the Grateful Dead. In recent months, he had started exercising in earnest, running 5-8 miles a day, and was proud of the shape he was in.
Described by his mother as “always smiling, always happy-go-lucky,” Mr. Cohen wasn’t one to think much of or plan for the future.
“Kevin wasn’t the type of individual who made long-range plans,” said Barry Cohen, his father. “He lived day-to-day.”
Besides his parents and brother, Mr. Cohen is survived by his grandfather, Lou Nover of Manalapan.
Profile by Peter Genovese published in THE STAR-LEDGER.
