On the morning of September 11, 2001, Mary Fetchet’s life changed in an instant. Her son, Bradley “Brad” Fetchet, a 24-year-old equities trader working on the 89th floor of the South Tower, left a voicemail to his mother just minutes before the second plane struck. In it, he gently reassured her he was safe—“a pretty scary experience… we’ll be here all day… love you” — not knowing he would never return.
That voicemail, preserved in the National 9/11 Memorial & Museum, became a haunting echo of the love between mother and son. Today, on Brad’s birthday, a single white rose rests at his name on the memorial site—a tender marker of loss, memory, and love.
Mary’s grief, though deeply personal, transformed into a commitment to community, advocacy, and remembrance. In the aftermath of 9/11, she opened her New Canaan home to other family members, hosting weekly gatherings where they could share stories, tears, and support. These modest meetings formed the roots of Voices of September 11th, a nonprofit she co-founded to help victims’ families navigate the wide, sometimes isolating, terrain of grief.
Under Mary’s leadership, Voices evolved well beyond peer support. It became a platform for memorial preservation, public education, and policy advocacy—ensuring voices of loss could help shape national understanding and institutional reform. The group also created the 9/11 Living Memorial, a vast digital archive of more than 87,000 photographs, keepsakes, audio and video files donated by families. Today, it resides within the 9/11 Memorial Museum in New York, bridging personal memory and collective remembrance.
Mary also served in public forums. She testified before the 9/11 Commission, bringing both the voice of a mother and that of an advocate. In her testimony, she described how her son called their home that morning to comfort them, moments before tragedy struck—and criticized the institutional failures that impeded timely response and coordination. In subsequent years, she served as Co-Chair of Voices of September 11th and remained a committed participant in national dialogues on preparedness and victim support.
Brad was more than a name lost to history. As friends and family remember, his life was guided by quiet integrity and kindness. He inscribed in his journal a line that Mary later recalled: “You can tell the character of a man by what he does for the man who can offer him nothing.” His unassuming demeanor and generous spirit made him a mentor to younger brothers and a cherished friend to many.
In Connecticut memorial ceremonies, Mary often speaks of her hope that no one will ever feel so utterly alone in grief. She describes opening her home to others as “a way of not letting the darkness win.” At annual services, she shares how those weekly meetings knit the bonds of resilience and created a support network that still strengthens 9/11 families decades later.
Even as time passes, Mary continues to point to the unfinished work of remembrance, healing, and accountability. She has emphasized that grief has “no timeline” and that the responsibilities to care for survivors, advocate for responsive policies, and educate new generations remain vital.
To visit Mary’s page on the Legacy Stories Wall is to encounter a story shaped by love, loss, courage, and purpose. Her son Brad’s name stands not only on stone, but in the ongoing work of memory and care. In honoring his life, Mary Fetchet honors all 9/11 families—and carries forward a legacy of connection, resilience, and unwavering hope.
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