I never met Ricknauth Jaggernauth. Had our paths in life crossed, we may have shared no more than a casual hello. He was a working man. A man's man. Worked with his hands. Enjoyed cold beers. Ricknauth was a Hindu. He was from a far off land. A country I couldn't point out on a map. Not even if you narrowed it down to the continent.
"Every day when he came home to Brooklyn from his construction job, he would grab a beer and sit in his front yard, and play with his grandchildren and other neighborhood children until it was time for dinner. "My father was a happy, loving, giving man," said his daughter Anita, 31. "He loved to talk to young people about their lives and about how important it was to get a good education."Ricknauth died tragically on September 11th, 2001. Today, I commemorate this man's life and death. Hats off to Ricknauth and his loved ones.
He would have only one or two beers, but his wife, Joyce, teased him and called him "drunkie grandpa," a nickname the children used for him. He came here from Guyana 19 years ago, and worked for a company that was renovating offices in the World Trade Center.
The day it was attacked, they were working on the 104th floor of the first tower.
Mr. Jaggernauth, 58, planned to retire in two years and wanted to visit his homeland. He had five children and three grandchildren, and all lived together in the family's two-story house on Pennsylvania Avenue. His daughter said that if his body is recovered, the family will have a traditional Hindu funeral for him. "It's what he did for his own mother," she said. "
A prayer of mercy and grace for us all.
at his Legacy.com guestbook.