Recently, the oral histories of hundreds of firefighters and emergency response team members… Recently, the oral histories of hundreds of firefighters and emergency response team members who responded to the events that occurred on September 11, 2001 were released. Totaling more than 12,000 pages, the reports released hours of recordings of emergency radio calls made on the fateful day.

Family members of firefighters who died in the attacks, in collaboration with The New York Times, sued for the release of these oral histories and radio calls in 2002. While the reports were not released because of their potential impact on the trial of accused conspirator Zacarias Moussaoui, families had another explanation for this tragedy. Their intention was to prove that their loved ones died because of faulty radios and communication and not because they heard, but heroically chose to ignore, the calls to evacuate the towers.

Did I miss something? Is it suddenly a bad thing to have a family member die heroically? These people are livid that their relatives chose to sacrifice themselves in order to save the lives of other people trapped in the doomed buildings.

I can’t say I really understood the story the first time I heard it. Previous reports I had read said that many people were anxious to find out where their loved ones were when they perished. It was a long shot, to be sure, as not everybody at a fire scene talks on the radio. But it might have given the widowed a glimpse into the final seconds of their loved ones’ lives. I can see where these folks are coming from.

But what of the others, those who simply want to say, “My loved one never heard the call”? Why is it so offensive to think of a firefighter violating orders to save another human life? I’m a fireman, and I know my chief would be all over me if I went out of line, if he gave an order and I disobeyed, doing the complete opposite. Believe me, there’s nothing worse than an angry fire chief. If he tells me to get out of a building, I get out, no questions asked.

Yet if I did so to try to save a life, doesn’t that kind of balance things out? Sure, I didn’t follow his order, and I face the wrath of an angry, angry man. But what if you throw a human life in peril into the equation? We’re not talking about a guy in a factory who doesn’t listen when somebody says, “Don’t touch the red button!” and then breaks a machine when he pushes that button.

Human lives were at stake! Doesn’t that make it OK at some level? How many people would voluntarily throw their life to the wind if given the chance — not even the certainty, but the chance — to save the life of somebody else?

Earlier this summer, three buddies and I were driving down the turnpike toward the beach when a tractor-trailer flipped in the opposite lane. It shattered the median with its cargo, and that debris totaled a car about 100 feet in front of us. We stopped to help, but watched about 45 to 50 other cars cruise slowly around the debris and then speed on their way.

One of the cars even had the nerve to take pictures before driving off. Think about it: Even if every car had just one person — though that wasn’t the case — that’s 50 people who said, “The heck with stopping and helping fellow human beings. I have places to be.”

Now apply that to the issue at hand. There’s a huge shortage of people in this world who are willing to help others if it means putting themselves at risk. Why is it so painful for these families to think that their loved ones were among this minority? Former mayor Rudy Giuliani and other city officials have suggested that the firefighters ignored orders for the sake of others. Additionally, lots of the firefighters’ oral histories indicate that some firemen did exactly that. So what now? Do we still find a way to blame faulty communications?

Nothing can replace the loss of a loved one. The grief and emptiness remain forever. But will blaming radios and communications make the situation better? I suppose you could sue the New York Fire Department if that were the case, but will that money bring back the heroes?

Please, stop looking for someone to blame. They’d made a living risking their necks for other people. Why is it so hard to accept that they did so this final time? It doesn’t have to be somebody’s fault that these men and women died. It can simply be that they went beyond the call of duty, not because somebody told them to, but because they knew it was the right thing to do, regardless of the consequences.

Brian Weaver is the assistant sports editor for The Pitt News. E-mail him at [email protected].