Above / Created with private dollars, the Commander Dan Shanower September 11 Memorial features a sculpture with a beam from the World Trade Center, fragments from the Pentagon and granite from the Pennsylvania region where Flight 93 crashed after passengers rose against the hijackers. A wall of faces symbolizes all of the Sept. 11 casualties, serving as a backdrop for the memorial. Located along the Riverwalk near the Naperville Municipal Center, the memorial on the Century Walk was dedicated on Sept. 11, 2003.
During a meeting for the Naperville Memorial Day Parade earlier this year at the Judd Kendall VFW Post, Pablo Araya mentioned he’d had the opportunity to honor his friend Cmdr. Dan Shanower during this city’s Sept. 11 Observance on Sept. 11, 2007.
Araya also grew up in Naperville and was a classmate of Shanower’s at Highland School, Washington Junior High School and Naperville Central High School. Though sports interests took them in different directions during high school —Shanower played soccer while Araya wrestled—their paths crossed again when they both served as Navy officers aboard the aircraft carrier Midway.
Upon request, Araya provided a copy of his words from 14 years ago that shine light on his fun-loving friend who gave the ultimate sacrifice while serving at the Pentagon on Sept. 11, 2001.
Words by Pablo Araya as spoken on Sept. 11, 2017
We all have memories of certain dates and personal events that we recall exactly where we were and what we were doing when the event unfolded —births, weddings, perhaps a death.
More rarely, though, an event occurs that Americans collectively and vividly recall: A Presidential Assassination, A First Lunar Step, The Attacks of 9/11.
On Sept. 11, 2001, I was on the Kennedy Expressway, heading back to the Office with Joe, my partner, after covering a lead on the Northwest Side of Chicago. As we listened to the breaking news on the radio, we drove in stunned silence.
When we arrived at 219 South Dearborn, the city was emptying quickly, and by late afternoon it was a modern day ghost town. The FBI had set up a command post, and leads were being furiously set and covered by every available agent.
Late that night, or perhaps early that next morning, several of us were told to go home, get some sleep and return the following morning for further instructions.
As I drove home on the Eisenhower, listening to the non-stop coverage of the attacks on the radio, I heard of Cmdr. Dan Shanower’s death in the Pentagon. The expressway was virtually empty, and having driven this route thousands of times, the car seemed to engage itself in autopilot as I began reminiscing about Dan.
The First Memory that came to mind: Three 4th graders, Dan, Kevin and me, playing in what now is appropriately named, “Shanower Family Field.” Back then there was a drainage ditch (we called it a creek) that ran the length of the field, and on this particular day, the creek was swollen from recent rains. We all took turns jumping over it, daring each other to leap across it at its widest part.
Kevin finally took the challenge and made it. Then I went and made it, also. Dan, though, must’ve taken a misstep and only his chin and hands rested on the opposite side, while his entire body plunged into the muddy, brown drainage water.
We pulled Dan out of the water, and I’ll never forget his expression. It began with a confused look, followed by complete disbelief and ending with a Big Old, Ear to Ear, Toothy Grin as he proudly admired his muddy clothes!
My mind then fast forwarded about 15 years. I was a newly designated Naval Aviator stationed in Milton, Florida, awaiting my first set of orders that would get me to the real Fleet. I’d received a letter from my sister advising me that Dan had joined the Navy, and she heard he was going through Officer Candidate School in Pensacola, Florida.
I drove over to the Naval Air Station and asked around. Soon enough, I located his Class Barracks and the Gunny in charge of his Class. The Gunny eyed me suspiciously, but I convinced him I had no ulterior motives in meeting with one of his Officer Candidates.
The Gunny then barked out the order, “Aviation Intelligence Officer Candidate Shanower, front and center – officer here to see you!”
“Out came Dan, head shaved, running full bore at the Gunny and me. At the last instant he stopped, braced against the wall, his eyes locked straight ahead, chin down, back ram rod straight, elbows back, thumbs along his trouser seams, heels together, and toes slightly apart.
“Sir YESSIR!’ he screamed.
The Gunny rolled his eyes and left us alone, and I whispered, “Dan, it’s me.”
“Sir YESSIR!” he screamed again.
“No, Dan-it’s me, Pablo.”
He started to scream the programmed “Sir YESSIR” again, but caught himself, looked at me and there it was, that same expression: Confusion, followed by complete disbelief and ending with a Big Old, Ear to Ear, Toothy Grin as he proudly stood at attention, wondering just what the heck I was doing there in his barracks!
The memories then leaped forward another 2-3 years. I was a Lt. assigned to a helo squadron aboard the USS MIDWAY, CV-41.
In this particular memory, though, I look more like Hawkeye Pierce than a U.S. Navy Pilot: I’m wearing a loud Hawaiian shirt, Bermuda shorts and flip flops. The boat had just pulled into port at Subic Bay, Philippines, and a couple of us were heading out to enjoy some liberty before the Battle Group’s scheduled six-month dreaded Indian Ocean deployment.
As we made our way to the ramp, we noticed a slender, lanky, freshly-minted Fleet Ensign, carrying sea bags that were nearly as big as him, and struggling to get over the knee-high hatches that the MIDWAY was infamous for. The Ensign looked exhausted, lost and frustrated.
Immediately, like all good sailors, we decided to give this FNG the business. If he felt overwhelmed then, wait until we were done with him.
However, as we approached, and got closer to him, he began to look very familiar.
Sure enough, it was Dan. He’d just been assigned to the MIDWAY’s EA-6B jet squadron as their Intel Officer. He recognized me and there it was again: Momentary Confusion, followed by Complete Disbelief, then that Big Old, Ear to Ear, Toothy Grin as he proudly stood in his blinding white, spotless summer uniform, and asked me where the heck his stateroom was!
About this time in my mind’s travels, I pulled into my driveway.
After a few hours of sleep, I headed back to the Office. On Sept.12, 2001, I realized just how much the Bureau was going to change. The fugitive cases I’d been working were put on hold as I, and virtually every other agent in the FBI, began running down counterterrorism leads…
Remembrances 14 years later
Araya’s enlightening words about his friendship with Shanower included details about the changes in law enforcement and intelligence agencies, mindful that international, as well as domestic terrorist groups, continuously evolve to threaten the world in new ways.
Fourteen years ago, his talk provided examples of the changes that already had strengthened the FBI.
When asked for a post script regarding more recent changes in the FBI and intelligence agencies, Araya replied, “I’ve been retired since 2005, so I have no idea what the Bureau is doing nowadays. We had a saying in the Bureau: ‘When you’re in, you’re the best….when you’re out, you’re a pest.’ So no, I don’t have anything to add to a 14-year-old speech.”
I expressed my gratitude to Araya for remembering to send his remembrances. And we scheduled a time to meet at the Cmdr. Dan Shanower Memorial.
While at the Memorial, Araya encouraged everyone to read Freedom Isn’t Free by Lieutenant Commander Dan Shanower, USN, written in May 1997 for Naval Institute Proceedings.
“The military loses scores of personnel every year in training or operational accidents. Each one risked and lost his or her life for something they believed in, leaving behind friends, family, and shipmates to bear the burden and celebrate their devotion to our country…” Shanower wrote.
“It seems that anyone who has spent a few years in uniform has a story of a shipmate who died in combat or while preparing for it. Those memories are something that many of our civilian counterparts cannot fathom. They realize that those of us in the military are expected to make the ultimate sacrifice when called, and they are willing to take the day off in observance of the many who have, but few realize and fewer have experienced the incredible price the military pays to ensure freedom in both peacetime and war…
“…They knew the risks they were taking and gave their lives for something bigger than themselves,” wrote Shanower. “I’ll never forget them, and I’ll never forget the day I learned that freedom isn’t free.”
Considering many changes 14 years later, a large portion of Araya’s speech has been deleted to wrap up with the following:
“…What is certain is that the trends toward globalization and international cooperation will continue,” Araya said.
“And as I close, speaking here before you on this solemn occasion, I know Dan is looking down at us, and when I stepped up to the podium, I imagine he looked at me with what was initially a Confused look, followed briefly by Complete Disbelief and ending with his Big Old, Ear to Ear, Toothy Grin.
“God Bless you, Dan, and God Bless America.”
—PN
The community is welcomed to remember that “Freedom Isn’t Free” during the annual September 11 Observance beginning at 8:30AM with music performed by the Naperville Municipal Band, followed by a program at 8:46AM. The 2021 remembrance will be held at the Cmdr. Dan Shanower Sept. 11 Memorial.
‘Freedom isn’t free.’ —Cmdr. Dan F. Shanower
