Tampa Bay Coalition
 
Wesley Mercer
1931 ~ 2001
 
111410port.jpg
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
A Veteran of Many Cities
 
Wesley Mercer, the vice president of corporate security for Morgan Stanley, had a way of making people feel safe. A quiet man, he often got lost in a noisy crowd. But in times of crisis, he was always the one who took charge. He was helping to evacuate employees when the towers collapsed. "It put a hole in my stomach," said his life partner, Bill Randolph. "But I knew that's what he would have done."

At 70, Mr. Mercer had already weathered many of life's crises. A war veteran turned security officer, he was divorced and helped to raise two daughters. In later years, he lived with Mr. Randolph in the Hamilton Heights neighborhood in Harlem. Mr. Mercer dressed to inspire confidence, and even wore a sports jacket to walk the dog or shop at Pathmark. He did not own sneakers or jeans.

"He always thought the way he carried himself was important," Mr. Randolph said.

Profile published in THE NEW YORK TIMES on October 1, 2001.
 

BBC News

http://news.bbc.co.uk/hi/english/uk/newsid_1564000/1564229.stm

Wednesday, 26 September, 2001

US Attack Hero's Caught on Film
 
A photograph has been released showing the British-born head of security for a financial firm helping to evacuate the World Trade Center.

Shortly after the picture was taken, the south tower collapsed.

Rick Rescorla, 62, originally from Cornwall, is still listed as missing, presumed dead.

It is believed that he was helped in this valiant rescue effort by his colleague and second-in-command, Wesley Mercer. It is presumed they died together.

The number of British citizens who remain unaccounted for after the 11 September attacks has been revised down to about 200.

The photograph was taken by a secretary and shows Mr Rescorla trying to clear people on the 42nd floor.

His colleagues at Morgan Stanley Dean Witter and other survivors have recalled how he tried to keep people's spirits up by singing and saying "God Bless America" as they left the building.

Mr Rescorla left Hayle in Cornwall aged 17 and trained as a police officer in London.

Aged 23, he went to America, where he became a citizen and joined the army.

He served as a lieutenant and platoon leader in Vietnam, where he was decorated for his courage and bravery.

Inoperable cancer

Mr Rescorla met his wife Susan when he was fighting inoperable prostate cancer and had been given six months to live

The couple married three years ago and since then he had stayed in remission.

She said: "I knew if I only had five minutes with him it would be the best five minutes of my life.

"We never tired of each other. Every day was a miracle."

She said her husband, a father of two, was a proud American, but never forgot his Cornish roots.

He regularly returned there and last visited in February this year.

After the tower was hit, he telephoned her on his mobile to tell her he was evacuating the building and that she had "made his life".

Mrs Rescorla is now planning a memorial for him at an American bird sanctuary, with a plaque bearing his name and a large cage just for great eagles.

"My Rick has spread his wings and has soared into eternity," she said.

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Newsday.Com

http://www.newsday.com/news/printedition/newyork/ny-ligay202424523oct20.story

Couples Commited in Life, Death
 
For Gay Partners, Reparations Woes
By Indrani Sen
STAFF WRITER

October 20, 2001

The matching gold bands Bill Randolph and Wesley Mercer wore may have been a tip-off. Or the postcards from their yearly vacations together in Barbados, signed "Bill and Wesley." Or even the simple fact that the two men shared an apartment for 26 years and did everything together.

"Our friends just sort of knew that we were together, we were a couple," said Randolph, 45. "We didn't have to wear signs or go to parades or anything like that."

But, after Mercer, 70, died in the Sept. 11 World Trade Center attacks, Randolph said he has had to struggle to defend the relationship, to prove he was Mercer's life partner and that, as a gay couple, their commitment was equal to that of married straight people.

With mixed success.

Morgan Stanley, where Mercer was vice president of corporate security, acknowledged Randolph as Mercer's surviving partner and gave him $700 cash to cover immediate expenses and, later, a $10,000 check.

In a gesture of support for same-sex couples, Gov. George Pataki has ordered that surviving gay partners receive the same benefits as spouses from the state's crime victim's board. The Red Cross and other relief agencies have said they will do the same.

But for Randolph, who relied on Mercer for more than half of the household income, several avenues of relief are blocked. He will be receiving no social security benefits, no workers' compensation, and none of Mercer's military pension from his 25 years of Army service because statutes governing those funds specify that only surviving spouses are eligible.

If he could have married Mercer, he would have, Randolph said.

"We considered our relationship valid for 26 years, and we were a model to our friends, straight and gay," he said. "But in the eyes of the law and the government at the federal level, they don't know what to do with us."

The same problem faced gays before the World Trade Center attacks, said Matt Foreman, executive director of the Empire State Pride Agenda, a gay advocacy group.

"What this calamity once again reinforces is how the lack of legal representation of our relationships has a profound and devastating effect on people when they're most vulnerable," he said. "We pay taxes like everyone else, and yet when it comes time to pay these bedrock benefits, we might as well not have paid taxes at all."

Foreman's group, along with other gay activists, has been lobbying the U.S. attorney general's office to have gay and lesbian survivors included in a federal compensation fund for victims of the terrorist attacks. Guidelines for the fund, part of the $15-billion airline bailout, are to be determined by Dec. 22.

The Rev. Lou Sheldon, chairman of the Traditional Values Coalition, a lobbying group, has criticized the drive to treat gay survivors as spouses.

"We feel that the homosexual agenda is trying to take advantage of the tragedy," he said, speaking from his offices in Anaheim, Calif. "We're treating them like they're married, and in doing that, we're destroying marriage because you're lowering it to a homosexual level."

Foreman rejected Sheldon's notion.

"What's occurring now is unjust and wrong, period," he said. "It is just fundamentally appalling to me that any attempt to treat a loving relationship and people in need in a fair way is deemed part of a political agenda."

Many gay survivors say they don't have the stomach for a battle over financial benefits while they grieve for their loved ones.

Catherine Anello, 41, lost her partner, Pamela Boyce, 43, an assistant vice president at Car Futures. Anello said Friday she didn't want to end up in court over money.

"I don't think I'll even go down that road, to be honest," said Anello, of Brooklyn. "I don't think I have the energy to start a fight that I don't even know why I'm in it - thrust into the boxing ring when I don't want to be there."

For now, Anello said, she's got a more immediate problem.

"I'm still trying to figure out why Pam doesn't come home at night."

Copyright © 2001, Newsday, Inc.

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New York Times

October 14, 2001

http://legalminds.lp.findlaw.com/list/queerlaw/msg04552.html

Partners of Gay Victims Find The Law Calls Them Strangers 


  Bill Randolph would settle for being a statistic.  His lover of 26 years, Wesley Mercer, is among three security personnel from Morgan Stanley still missing in the World Trade Center rubble.  But unlike other surviving partners, Mr. Randolph is not eligible for the full range of benefits, from pensions to Social Security payments to special memorial funds available to victims of Sept. 11.  As gay men, the two were strangers under the law.
  "If you're straight and have a marriage license, it's one, two, three," said Mr. Randolph, 45.  "We're clawing at it, just to be acknowledged."
  Private relief agencies, including the Red Cross and Safe Horizon, have provided assistance based on need, not marital status.  A few corporations in the World Trade Center, like Cantor Fitzgerald and Lehman
Brothers, have extended benefits to same-sex partners.  But most government benefits, such as workers' compensation, are limited to spouses and children.
  For instance, the surviving spouse of a firefighter or police officer will receive a lifetime tax-free pension equal to the victim's final annual earnings.  But, depending on the victim's salary, a gay domestic partner of
a firefighter or police officer may only receive a one-time payment of about $50,000, said Lorna Goodman, a spokeswoman for the city corporation counsel's office.
  "As the law now stands, partners of lesbian and gay victims would not be eligible for the social safety net," said Jennifer Middleton, a lawyer for the Lambda Legal Defense and Education Fund, a gay advocacy group that has been working on this issue with a similar group, Empire State Pride Agenda.
  Some gay people can count on receiving help because they are close to their partners' families, who often stand to inherit the person's estate. But others, like Mr. Randolph, are in a different situation.
  "My best resource is Morgan Stanley," said Mr. Randolph, a part-time organist who lives in Harlem.  "Last week, they gave me a check for $10,000 to take care of my immediate needs.  The government is not as understanding as the private sector."
  Government officials have acknowledged the disparity.  Gov. George E. Pataki recently signed an executive order to cover gay partners under the state's Crime Victims Board, which pays funeral costs and up to $30,000 for lost income.  But it is unclear if other aid will be given.  "We are looking into that," said Mollie Fullington, a Pataki spokeswoman.

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Mondo-Gay

NY, pain and pranks

The USA government does not want to recognize the compensations to the gay that they have lost the partner during the attacks to the twin Towers. The case of Bill Randolph is emblematic: its companion, Wesley Mercer, 26 years, are one of the victims of the attacks to the World Trade Center. But for the law American Bill and Wesley they are two perfect strangers. And therefore, nothing lifelong pension check - calculated on the base of the salary of the last year of the victim - like to the married braces or the sons.

But, to forehead of a government sordo, to come encounter to the newyorkese community gay they are the private associations, that they have chosen the line of giving attendance based on the necessity and not to the marital status. The governor of the State of New York - George Pataki - has instead signed an order in order to extend to the partner gay the Crime Victims Board, than satisfied the costs of the funeral.

 

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CGI Arcigay Milan
www.arcigaymilano.org/Notizie/Discriminazioni/dis211018a.htm  
The PAIN And The PRANK
Attacks of New York: the government does not recognize compensations to the gay that they have lost their partner. The private ones, instead.

Wesley Mercer, 26 years, agent of emergency for the Morgan Stanley, is one of the victims gay of the terroristic attack of the 11 september to the World Trade Center. Its partner, Bill Randolph, must hour to make the accounts, beyond that with the pain of the loss, also with the law American who considers Wesley and Bill two strangers.

Various from other partner survivors, Bill Randolph is not eleggibile for the pension, the social security, and other deep special ones instituted for the victims of the terroristic attack.

"If six etero and you have a wedding licence, not is problem. We are fighting with nails only for being recognized."

Some private agencies, between which the Red Cross, they have given attendance based on the necessity and not to the marital status. Moreover some companies that had the center to the WTC, between which Cantor Fitzgerald and Lehman Brothers, have extended the benefits to the same partner of the same one. But the greater part of the benefits governed is limits you to the spouses and the sons of the victims.

While as an example the spouse or the spouse of a National Fire Department or an official of police will receive a pension to equal not taxable life to the salary of the last year of the victim, domestic the partner gay will be able to only receive a payment one tantum, based on the salary of the victim, of approximately 50 mila dollars.

"Based on the law they puts into effect, the partner of the lesbian victims and gay they are not eleggibili for the net of social emergency" comments Jennifer Middleton, a lawyer for the Lambda Legal Defense and Education Fund, a group of defense of the rights gay that she is working here to New York on this problem with to other similar organizations.

"the Morgan Stanley, the slid week, has given a check to me of 10 mila dollars, for my immediate needs" says Randolph. "the government is not equally comprehensive".

Officials of the government have taken action of the disparity. The Governor of the State of New York, George And Pataki, has recently signed an executive order in order to extend to the partner gay the Crime Victims Board of the state, than satisfied the costs of the funerals and until 30 mila dollars for the loss of one entered. He remains not clearly however if other recognized extensions and benefits verrano in future.

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Newsday.Com

http://www.newsday.com/ny-livit142365588sep14.column

Families Give Life to Missing

Paul Vitello

September 14, 2001

On every tree trunk, on every mailbox and lamp post along two blocks of Lexington Avenue in New York City yesterday, there were posters of missing persons taped up and tacked on and, in some cases, seemingly attached by the sheer will power of someone hoping for a miracle, or at least a positive identification.

Each poster was half inquiry and half memorial, like those impromptu, flower-strewn memorials planted around trees and guardrails in the suburbs where people have crashed.

"This is my cousin, Marc Zeplin," said Craig Hassenbein, holding up a photo of a smiling, strapping 33-year- old investment banker and father of two from Oceanside. He has been missing since the Tuesday attack by terrorists at the World Trade Center.

Before Hassenbein stood a bank of reporters and cameramen. They would put the picture of Zeplin on the air or in the pages of their newspapers.

"My cousin worked on the 104th floor of the south tower" of the former World Trade Center, he said. "He hasn't been heard from since Tuesday."

"Hold it up please," said a cameraman to the cousin. Hassenbein held the picture up.

This happened simultaneously with a rolling stock of 25 or 35 family members, most of whom would come out of the National Guard armory at 25th Street, where they officially registered the names of their missing loved ones, then crossed the street for the unofficial registration with the media, and taped a missing person poster to a tree.

The lines to the armory entrance stretched all the way down the long block between Lexington and Park, and around the corner. Street vendors in the next block did brisk sales in American flags. "God bless America!" sang a vendor on Madison. "Land that I love!"

It is hard to describe the scene of the families of the disappeared standing on Lexington Avenue, though you may have seen it through one lens or another on TV. It was the saddest place I have ever been. They were just about shoulder to shoulder, being interviewed or waiting to be interviewed; and then after each encounter turning to the next interview and photo shoot.

"Nada!" said a woman in Spanish to a camera from the Spanish-language Univision network, holding up a picture of her brother. Alejandro Castano of Englewood, N.J., and saying what sign there was of him since Tuesday. Nada.

Tears streamed down her face. "Por favor," she said.

"We feel that with his military training, and if he was able to survive Korea and Vietnam, he was able to survive this," said William Randolph, a friend of a vice president for security of the firm of Morgan Stanley, 70-year-old Wesley Mercer, a retired career Army officer, who is missing.

"He's one of those guys who's always ready to help out. Has two Purple Hearts. A Bronze Star. We just feel that ... "

Randolph, a tall man with high cheekbones and the intense energy of desperate hope, delivered the same information in no fewer than 12 interviews between 1 and 2:15 p.m., each time turning to face another direction, each time holding his photo of Mercer at a different height to accommodate a cameraman or photographer of a different size.

The sun grew hot. Police sirens drowned out all talk for periods of minutes. Volunteers circulated through the crowd with water and cellophane- wrapped baked goods. Here and there, passersby videotaped the incredible scene. ("Why am I taping?" said one of them, Yvonne Brown, who stood across from the armory, scanning the people, the police, the volunteers, the guardsmen in camouflage, the screaming emergency vehicles passing by. "Because this is something that's happening to me, also.")

Across the street, at the impromptu news conferences for the missing, the disappeared came to life in each encounter.

"My cousin is a grown-up teenager, a life-of-the- party type," said the cousin of Zeplin.

"Two daughter! Two daughter!" shouted a non-English-speaking relative of a man named Joon Koo Kang, who was missing.

"If we got everyone here together in one place, Doug would have them crying with laughter in a minute," said a relative of 33-year-old Doug Farnum of the 97th floor, who is missing.

"He just got married in June. Quiet. Sweet. Not an ounce of hatred in him," said a relative of Harold Lizcano, an accountant, who is missing.

"He delivered office supplies, and he loved food, and his nickname was 'Veneno,' which means poison, because he is mischievous," said the sister of Alejandro Castano, who is missing.

"Water!" shouted a volunteer, crossing the street from the thick-walled armory that occupies an entire city block, its cornerstones chiseled with the names of the places where soldiers of the local New York battalion had served, including Bull Run, Antietam, Gettysburg, Meuse-Argonne. Now New York, N.Y.

"Can I take this?" said one of the relatives during an interview, grabbing his cell phone from his pocket, asking a reporter's forbearance.

"Hello?" roared the missing person-seeker into the phone, shouting to be heard above the traffic and the sirens and the people all around him seeking help in the same desperate spirit as he.

"Hello?"

Copyright © 2001, Newsday, Inc.

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