A New Start
On September 9, 2002, exactly one year after Craig left for New York, Holly returned to work—only it was to U.S. Secret Service Headquarters in Washington, D.C., where she would be working in an administrative capacity with former colleagues of Craig’s. As a co-worker, Holly felt connected to them and closer to Craig. 

“It was what I needed then—to be where he was, to see what he had seen, to hear stories about him at work, to be around other people who cared for him. They made me laugh and they were comfortable when I talked about him, too. Nobody walked on eggshells, and I felt like I was a part of his work family,” she says.

Choosing not to return to NRA Headquarters was a difficult decision for Holly because she had loved her job, but there would be too many reminders of the past such as the routine brief “I love you” phone calls and e-mails from Craig. It would never be the same, she thought. 

“I will always feel a part of the NRA family. The way NRA members—most of whom I’d never even spoken to—offered their support to me, a complete stranger. It told me what I already suspected—that I was working for one of the most patriotic organizations in the country with some of the most sincere people, whom I’d probably never meet. So many people reached out to us because they felt they knew Craig, as a serviceman, policeman or rescue worker, or just an ordinary hardworking American doing his job. That really is the NRA.”

Memories
Holly will always have Craig with her in the twins and, as they grow, there will be subtle reminders of him of which only she will be aware. But other, intentional daily reminders of him will be present also. Symbols of patriotism are evident throughout her home in many forms: the red, white and blue mantel dedicated to photographs of Craig with the family, his professional accomplishments, and framed pictures of the National Law Enforcement Memorial. In the sunroom hangs a “Patriot’s Quilt,” handmade by Brenda Williams, who is from Holly’s hometown in Arkansas. Each square represents a memory of Craig…his Army helmet, his Secret Service Star, the U.S. Capitol, the Statue of Liberty, eagles and flags, and a square in the center that says “America Will Always Remember The Twins,” flanked by the two towers. In the hallway is a stained-glass window with a red, white and blue heart, crafted by the wife of a victim of the 1995 Oklahoma City bombing of the federal building. And then there is the Beretta shotgun that Craig ordered as a surprise birthday present for Holly after she joined the NRA skeet league. It arrived at NRA Headquarters two weeks after 9/11.

In the springtime, red, white and blue pansies are planted in a memorial garden in the front yard under two mature oak trees. The pansies complement the giant U.S. flag that flies between them. It’s a visual reminder of the strength of the two towers, flag proudly waving still. Buried in the garden below is a jar containing sand and rubble from Ground Zero, a symbolic gesture that offered comfort shortly after the tragedy when Holly had nothing tangible to lay to rest. Nearby in the driveway sits Craig’s other love—a fiery orange Camaro that now bears a personalized license tag, “PHNIX,” which Holly worked so hard to get back after hastily turning it over to the bank while she struggled financially immediately post 9/11.

The twins, Colton and Curt, will never know their dad in the way that most children do. They will see pictures of him, but they will know him by what is told to them by their mom and brothers and grandparents, and by friends who will relate stories of his heroism and his devotion to his family. 

And when they’re old enough they, in return, can offer tribute to their dad with the outwardly insignificant act of eating their hamburgers loaded with onions.