Peter J. Ganci: A Leader With
Modesty
The
thing about Peter J. Ganci was, he didn't flaunt it. He
was just a regular guy living with his family on Long
Island, so at peace with himself that if you asked him
what he did for a living, he would just say, "I'm a
fireman in the city."
"He would never say that he was the highest-ranking
uniformed officer in the department," said Fire Marshal
Steven Mosiello, his longtime friend and executive
assistant.
Most of the time, Pete Ganci, who was 54, was that
regular guy down the street who happened to be a
decorated hero and boss: the guy who loved to laugh,
golf, go clamming in Great South Bay. On Deputy Fire
Commissioner Lynn Tierney's desk is a photograph of him
in formal uniform -- five stars on his collar and all --
and a pink headband that says "Happy Birthday." The
photograph's meaning is simple, she said: "He was man
enough to wear a pink headband that said 'Happy
Birthday.'"
Then there were those times when Pete Ganci was Chief
Ganci, as on that last morning. In the eerie calm between
the collapse of the two towers, Deputy Fire Commissioner
Michael Regan recalled, "Pete Ganci directed every
civilian and every firefighter to go north. He went
south."
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