Boy Meets Girl

That woman over there, she must have gotten out quickly! Her scars were hands and face! The guy over there, his injuries were devastating. He lost an arm and had a prosthetic leg, but also deep scars on his neck, I guessed due to that molten foam. Many of my scars have blended in and are not as obvious as they once were, but they are still painful even after 20 years.

I laid my flowers - in my mind's eye where I thought I last saw my new friend - letting go of them brought out my tears. My two office friends were right behind me as I struggled to release the flowers from my right hand. My fingers were over-ruling my brain. I also tried to place the letters I have written but at the last second could not part with them. I recalled as I wrote those letters, my mind was at ease as I fantasized our separation was just a business trip. Writing each letter are among my fondest memories of the past 20 years.

With my sister's help, I rolled back over to where the memorial service would soon start, and I began to relax on the lawn. I broke out my phone and my Amazon Music library. I have songs in a custom playlist. These are selections that calm me or bring back happy memories in my life. I was not yet ready to play that one song. I did not think I would bother anybody so I set up my speakers to play the music so others could enjoy it at a comfortable volume. As the list ran down, I knew it was approaching that time to play that next song. I planned it for 15 minutes before the start of the event.

Yes, it was going to be very painful today. You know that don't you! I let it play - "In Your Eyes"! Then I got a little rude and cranked up the volume. I played it a second time, only even louder, then a third time, and just hit play again when I noticed about eight people walking quickly over to where my music was playing.

"You must have been there that night! That song, it was one that the house band played that night! The real thing sounds much better!"

Of course, I agreed but it did not matter what version played. As it ended, a couple of people asked me to play it again wanting to remember a moment of that night. It was not hard to tell - their scars told you they had been in the club that night. Yes, I know, but not everyone physical scars. Not on their bodies necessarily but you could see it in their eyes if you looked closely enough - just as deep and just as life altering.

I knew today would be tough, but my emotional pain was taking over. I had built up my physical and emotion state but now I was fading. The tears were welling in my eyes - my heart rate was erratic, and my chest hurt.

I noticed that I now had about twenty people listening to the music. It made me happy, but I did not know why.

After the fifth time playing the song, a woman walked up to me and said "Thank you - that song sure is contagious! Did you know there is another one of the survivors on the other side of the crowd doing the same thing that you are! She is playing the same song over and over!"

"Wow" I responded, then asked, "What song is she playing?"

"Why the exact same song! She was there that night. She is in a wheelchair - you can tell, she has scars and must have suffered serious injuries!"

I wondered if I should go over to introduce myself to her. I asked the woman if she could show me where this woman is in the crowd, and she was happy to help my sister and one of my friends get me back into my wheelchair as I can stand and walk but not over any distance and certainly not over a park lawn.

The crowd was growing. I told you about the people of Rhode Island. We are like one big family. There was a small woman with significant scars playing the same music as if she's John Cusack in "Say Anything" but playing Peter Gabriel's "In Your Eyes". As I got closer, the music got louder and the people around her broke their circle and formed two lines of people looking my direction.

OH MY GOD! IT'S HER, IT'S REALLY HER! SHE HAD SURVIVED!

To this day, I do not know how I got the strength and jumped out of my wheelchair and ran (well, walked a little fast and stumbled a lot) the last thirty feet to her and embraced her with all my might. "You survived! I thought you were dead! I am so sorry, it was so loud that night, I did not hear your name! I searched, I really tried!"

I almost collapsed as the short jog to her took all my strength and was painful. But I was happy, beyond belief. My lack of strength did not matter - she was holding me so tight that Gorilla glue would be envious. She spoke - "Grant - I remember you and that night! It was the best night of my life, until it became the worst."

I had to correct the error I made that night - "I am so sorry but while we were dancing, I never heard your name! I need to know, please!"

"It's a hard to pronounce Irish name - Saorise- but it's pronounced 'Sir-Sha'!"

Now I realized I was close, but my phonetic spelling would not have ever gotten me to Saorise! She is still as beautiful as I remember and I held her tightly, even as the memorial event was getting ready to start. Word was spreading like wildfire as to what had just happened. It was time for the event to start but one of the event organizers had come off the stage and headed towards us. My vision is OK directly in front of me, but my peripheral vision was poor due to scarring from the fire. I noticed she could barely move, and each of her scars became apparent.

Her leg (she lost one due to the fire), her arms, her neck, facial scars, and a wig instead of hair. It was clear that she was one of the most seriously burned patients to have survived. I did not care - she was still the most beautiful woman on the face of the earth to me. I held her but did not want to kiss her right now wanting to respect her family situation. I never got to ask! She kissed me and our burned lips met. I felt her passion and returned it ten-fold. I needed her to know how much I want her! But what if she is married. What would I do if that is the case?

As the crowd parted, we noticed people still surrounding us. They were the people who were listening to the song and now knew a bit about our story. I smiled at them and confirmed she was my soulmate from that night, and I had continued to love her and tried to find her for the past twenty years.

Saorise also told the people around us her story of that night and the connection we had made. Then, she made a statement that stopped me cold "I've waited for him since that night - I never gave up hope that one day he would find me!" Her friends who had made this trip today were overcome by the emotion of the moment.

It broke my heart - I had married! I tried to wait but I needed a companion and, while Gloria was not her, we did have a loving relationship. How do I tell her about my life while staying true to the honest story that I loved her from the first moment I saw her. I wondered how we would start that conversation - I did not need to worry!

The memorial service began, the first speaker, a minister from a local church, mentioned that a real miracle just occurred. He stated that with so much respect and kindness and as a joyous moment that perhaps may lift the spirits and lighten the days of the survivors.

I do not know if each survivor received money as part of a financial settlement with the insurers and the owners of the nightclub. For me, it was a modest amount as I had scars but not scars like the most seriously injured. I would learn before we left the park that afternoon that Saorise's medical costs had exceeded three million dollars after grueling surgeries and more than thirty skin grafts.

As the event closed, I concentrated on Saorise's condition. She had multiple medical issues that required constant monitoring and access to therapeutic care and that Saorise travels with her wheelchair. I helped her into the chair seat recognizing the challenge that she had getting comfortable in the chair. I rolled it slowly towards the parking lot as my sister (yes, always with me) pushed my wheelchair but staying within three feet of me. She could not believe how I had already gone over one hundred feet without stopping.

As we neared the parking area, I noticed a good-sized van equipped for a wheelchair parked in a "handicapped" spot and an approaching passenger car with two men who appeared to be about 40 years old and an older couple in the back seat. Those turned out to be her younger brothers (Conor and Liam) and they recognized that a major event had occurred. They saw their sister smiling like she did before the fire and there was a man with her with a smile even larger and absolutely ignoring the scars on Saorise's body.

I do not know how she did it, but she triggered the song to project thru her speaker - "In Your Eyes" I saw the brothers smile but with tears in their eyes. Her Mom and Dad, both nearing 70, came near Saorise but while her mother gave her a kiss, her dad came to me and hugged me! "She has loved you for 20 years - I trust that you will love her back!" Then, he cried, and I did too. I learned his name is James and he and I became like father and son.

I agreed to go home today with her, but I did not fully understand that over the next day, I would learn everything about the O'Malley clan - current and past members! I would meet the O'Malley family - her mother, father, and two brothers. Adding to the surprise for me was that no one had called them to advise that she had found her Knight in Shining Armor. They were just here to pick up their precious daughter.

It was my turn to speak "Sir, I have carried a torch for her as well. I spent the night of the fire trying to get back in the building to find her! I would have given up my life for a chance to tell her I love her even if it meant my death! We have a great deal to talk about but, if it goes as I expect, I want to be your son-in-law and the person to take care of her for the rest of her life!"

That night, at her home, Saorise and I reconnected but it was as if it was just a continuation of that night. We even discussed the meaning of our song and realized it was a solemn expression of how we felt. Our lives were torn apart after that song, yet we reconnected through that song. My fear of talking about Gloria and our marriage was misplaced. Saorise was delighted to learn about my marriage. I was honest and said that I loved my wife and mourned her death but even she knew of my longing to find you.

At that moment, I told Saorise about the letters I had written, once my right hand was healed enough to allow some legible content. The letters were in date order, and I handed her the first one to be read. She wanted to read one of the letters that night, so I gave her the first one I wrote. No, I can't tell you what it said - that's still so private that I cannot let it out. I saw her eyes fill again with tears while still reading the first of 10 pages and so glad I did not leave them at the memorial. They contained what I needed to say to her - just 20 years too late.

My writing pace slowed over the last five years, but I never failed to add to the shoeboxes full of letters written, but never sent. I didn't realize that I had written a love letter to her on average every 2 weeks over 20 years. I gave her the first batch of them and said there were more - but those written in the first year (at least once a week) expressed our night and my agony from not being able to carry her away from that burning building.

From Saorise, I learned more about her health and the severity of her injuries. While some had healed, her lung damage from the fire were still a serious concern of her doctors, including the carcinogenic content of the inhaled gases. She is forty-four now and we are already planning our wedding. Oh, you remember the private school where she taught before the fire - 6 blocks from my younger sister's house and one of her kids went to that school.

I returned to work two weeks later after taking emergency family leave to work on the issues we were soon to face. When I returned, my team met me and spent the whole first morning asking questions about what had happened. It seemed that my friends told them some parts of what had occurred but the smile on my face told them it was the best event of my life.

I invited them to my wedding and soon the word spread around the office and manufacturing facility. I promised to bring my wife to visit right after we get married. I wanted the world to know that dreams can come true even after the nightmares!

For Saorise and I, one of our favorite things was to read the rest of the letters I wrote over the twenty years. It helped her become my best friend in addition to being my wife. The letters I had written were the words I could never say aloud. But now, the person I wrote the letters to was now in our home. Reading them made us both happy. We have used the letters on night when it was difficult to fall asleep as they relaxed us both and eased her pain. When we had finished reading all 500+ letters, we began to re-read the series, only skipping around to our favorite parts.

We did get married, and our lives were as perfect as possible for two very injured people. I loved her with all my heart, and her love returned to me every moment we were together. Certain acts of love were difficult, other not even possible due to scarring, but we found ways to demonstrate our love in both physical and emotional way.

But you noticed something, didn't you! I did not say ARE together. We were happy - no, happy is not an adequate word. Our love was a perfect love, profound and deep, but that love meant when she could no longer fight off infections and the impact of the carcinogens that we inhaled that night and heat that scarred our lungs made her too sick to continue. We had almost four years together and they truly were the happiest days of my life. We would often talk about how we would have been great parents with loving children, but the bad choices made by others that night took that opportunity away from us.

The night I knew she was near her departure from earth, I made her promise me that she would save a place for me in heaven, right next to her, like I should have been 24 years ago. My belief in God returned the day I was reunited with my Saorise! We both became faithful members of the Catholic church her parents attended for over 50 years.

My Dad had passed away back in 2019 and my mom in 2021, but there is a continuing sign of our love. Her parents decided that they are now my parents, and her brothers are as important to me as my own sisters. I smile and laugh now because I have loved and been loved by my soulmate, even in my continued mourning because that is the gift my Saorise gave me. You cannot see my smile because of my facial scars but I now have her very similar smile to guide me until my day to see her in paradise. 0h, how I hope it comes soon. I sure miss my girl!

Author's Note:

Just a final series of comments. First, I am sorry for my sloppy research. Hopefully it's taught me a lesson to be thorough when dealing with factual events. While preparing this edited version, I found about 20 errors that needed to be corrected. So much for being able to 'self-edit' my stories.

It's been difficult to write lately, it's just part of being a very moody person. My original intent was to write a story about a couple separated by a tragedy. As a youth, I remember of nightclub fire in the New York area with a significant loss of life, but my research led me to this fire, and I began a deeper dive. The loss of life, the impact on very close families and communities, and know that it was fully preventable fueled a desire to create a story to honor and respect those impacted - either directly or indirectly.

Also, the CBS story focused on two amazing survivors. I won't go into details here, I believe you can find the story online. They are the glowing example of strength of the human spirit. There stories were worth telling and I am glad that CBS had the vision that I attempted to share. Truth is better than fiction, but somehow, I feel like there was a story that night about a Grant and Saorise.

I hope I have not offended anyone by turning a factual event into this piece of fiction. I will pull this story down if the comments indicate having a painful impact on the survivors.

With my deepest affection, Numbnutz49