Identifying the victims of September 11
It's like anything else. People just want to know what the facts are. They want there to be no secrets, for you just to be honest with them to the best of your knowledge. Governments still haven't learned that lesson. The decision was made in January 2005 that we just weren't getting any more IDs. You reach the limits of science. It doesn't mean you're giving up, but you have to stop until you have better technology.
What surprised you as you went through this process?
There were funeral home directors who didn't want to hurt someone's feelings. So a family would ask how much [of their relative's remains] did the funeral home get back? There was a woman who was told that her relative was 90 percent there, but then she was called and told that there were more remains coming in. She asked what was going on, and she learned that she probably had less than 50 percent of the remains of her loved one. The funeral director probably thought it would make her feel better, but she was devastated.
Were you able to identify the terrorists?
We identified three of the terrorists. There was the thinking that both planes exploded, and people would be gone but apparently not. When the planes exploded, the fragments were spread around and didn't all get caught up in the fireball. We asked the government for [DNA] profiles of the terrorists.
How did the government get the DNA profiles of the terrorists?
They never told us, but they probably knew where they'd lived in various cities around the world and collected personal items from these people.
Sounds like the job took its toll on you emotionally—as it would anyone.
There was one family member who would ask me regularly, "Did you find Mommy yet?" I crossed the line from objectivity to subjectivity. Eventually, I had a heart attack [in May 2003]. The thing is, you ignore it. You put it off, and you put it off, and you see other people going to counselors. You don't feel bad—your day is extended by five or six hours, but you deal with it. Then something goes. It's a very insidious, violent killer, stress.
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