Meet Al Braca
The last time David Braca saw his dad, Al, his father was in a bad mood.
Al was a bond broker who had worked at Cantor Fitzgerald’s corporate headquarters in the World Trade Center for 16 years.
“I said, ‘Pop, what’s the matter?’ And he replied, “Eh, work, work’s getting to me. I’m in my early 50s, and I don’t know how much longer I have here. This is a young man’s game.”
After they talked, the last thing David did before heading home that day was put his arms around his father and kiss him goodbye. That was Sept. 10, 2001.
The next day, Al Braca stood on a desk near the top of the World Trade Center as the skyscraper was burning to the ground.
By all accounts, he stood tall and said to his colleagues, “I’m going to see Jesus today, who’s coming with me?”
Upwards of 50 colleagues joined him in praying into their deaths.
All 658 Cantor Fitzgerald employees in the building died that day. Because of Al, many of them passed with the promise of eternal life, converting to Christianity in their final moments.
It was a fitting end for Al, whose colleagues had nicknamed him “The Rev.”
Before 9/11, Al and his wife Jean had become reinvigorated in their faith after their daughter was miraculously healed from a rare blood disease. It changed their lives, and people noticed.
David described Cantor Fitzgerald back in 2001 as an environment that was “friendly but cutthroat,” where coworkers would tease each other and pick at one another’s weak spots.
To many of Braca’s colleagues, saying “I’m a Christian” was a weakness.
“I remember conversations at the dinner table where my dad would say guys were taking customers to a go-go bar, and dad wouldn’t go,” David said. “In the 1980s and 1990s, clients wanted to do cocaine and get prostitutes … it was all part of the entertainment.”
But not for Al. Skipping extracurriculars had the consequence of lost business. Sometimes the guys at work would joke around and leave a Playboy magazine open to the centerfold on Al’s desk and bust his chops. Other times the teasing was less playful, and colleagues would question Al’s judgment on trades or other workplace decisions.
Still, there was a strong bond among Al and his coworkers at Cantor. Many of them quietly sought his counsel in times of trouble.
In 1993, when terrorists tried to take down the World Trade Center for the first time, Al helped lead his co-workers to safety. While ushering them down the stairs, several people reportedly asked him, “Al, you praying?” He replied, “Yeah, I’ve got you covered.”
But Al didn’t make it down the stairs in 2001 after the plane struck the tower.
The morning of Sept. 11, David was driving when he heard on the radio that a plane had crashed into his dad’s building.
He called Al multiple times but never got through.
Although David couldn’t reach his father, Al tried to get a message out to his wife, Jean.
He called MCI, a long-distance phone company, and got ahold of an operator. He told her, “It’s hot, there’s smoke … tell my wife and children that I love them.”
It took a while for Jean and David to get that message from Al, but other Cantor Fitzgerald employees did get through to their loved ones over the phone that day. That’s how David learned about his father’s call to prayer.
“They said Al Braca is here and we’re praying. We’re saying the Lord’s prayer.”
It’s comforting knowing that Al died in faith and helped others in their journey. Yet, David still feels a terrible loss. He thinks about his father every single day.
“Lots of people have stories to tell … Al Braca, the man vs. Al Braca, the myth,” David said. “He was a flawed guy, but he was just a guy. He made mistakes, lost his temper, said things he shouldn’t have said, and that’s OK. We’re all just sinners trying to figure it out. We have a roadmap. Whether we follow that roadmap every day, that’s something else. That’s where grace comes in, that’s where forgiveness comes in.
“The day before, he was upset. He didn’t have joy. There were a lot of unknowns. The very next day, he’s on the desk saying, ‘I’m going to see Jesus today, who’s coming with me?’”
Al Braca’s faith forged goodness out of evil, brought comfort to the families of loved ones who died in the Cantor office that day, and is an inspiration to all who hear his story.
To hear more of Al Braca’s extraordinary story, listen to Episode 3 of Iron Light Labs’ podcast “20 for 20” (telling 20 heroic stories about 9/11 for the 20th anniversary).
You can listen in one of two ways:
- Listen now on Apple Podcasts, Spotify, and Google Play
- Directly on our website by going to 20for20Podcast.com
