As the 25th anniversary of the September 11, 2001 terrorist attacks approaches, Americans are reflecting on the nearly 3,000 lives lost at the World Trade Center, the Pentagon and in Shanksville, Pennsylvania.

For retired physician Dr. Frank Foti, a New York City native who built his career in Erie, the anniversary is deeply personal. He lost one of his brothers, Robert Foti, a New York Fire Department firefighter that day, never seeing or hearing from him again.

Foti’s home office remains much as it was when Erie News Now first introduced our viewers to him five years ago. It serves as his hideaway, a personal memorial to his brother, who he called Bobby. “He was the kind of guy that just was always a hero type,” Foti recalled. “He wasn’t afraid of anything.”

Among the items in Foti’s memorial collection is a photograph that carries particular significance. It is believed to be the last image of Bobby alive, showing him walking at the back of his battalion toward the South Tower to try and rescue those trapped inside.

“That photo there of the firefighters is that last picture of him being alive,” Foti said. “They never did find his body, not even a toe or a finger or whatever.” Frank believes Bobby’s battalion had just entered the South Tower lobby when the building thundered down.

Foti’s youngest brother, Joseph, also a New York City firefighter was not on duty that day, but grabbed gear and was heading toward the towers when they collapsed, raining debris. He narrowly escaped the same fate.

“If he would have got to the site 30 minutes earlier, he’d probably be gone too,” Foti said. “He was on his way walking to the site when the buildings came down.”

Foti rushed to Ground Zero

Foti, who grew up on the lower east side of Manhattan, and could see the twin towers from his home’s kitchen and bedroom, was in his Erie medical office on September 11th. By that night, he finally heard from Joseph, but no one in the family had heard from Bobby, a recently remarried father of three.

The Erie Foti family drove to New York, where Frank joined his brother Joseph to head to Ground Zero. Outfitted with some of Bobby’s firefighting gear he was able to clear security around the site. Foti was hoping against hope that his brother might somehow still be alive, while also wanting to help with the massive rescue and recovery effort.

What he saw at Ground Zero left him stunned.

“A wave of exhaustion came over me,” Foti recalled. “When I saw the site, in my heart I knew my brother was gone.” He said the devastation made the name “Ground Zero” painfully appropriate. “There was zero hope at that point that my brother was going to come back,” he said.

‘It’s not getting easier’

Twenty-five years later, Foti says accepting his brother’s death has not become easier.

“It’s not getting easier,” he said. “As I get older and think about my mortality, our mortality — think about what my brother has missed, what his family has missed, what his grandchildren continue to miss and his children.”

Foti still struggles to comprehend how someone could carry out an attack that caused such devastation.

“How could someone do that? How could someone do that?” he asked, shaking his head.

The attacks also changed Foti’s sense of security. Even decades later, he said he still wonders whether Americans can ever feel completely safe from those who want to cause harm.

“You know they talk about all these sleeper cells and things like that and how the FBI are tracking and watching,” Foti said. “I don’t know if you can ever really sleep at night and be totally comfortable and think that we’re safe.”

Remembering those who serve

As the 25th anniversary approaches, Foti hopes Americans take time to remember not only those who died on September 11, but also the families left behind — and the men and women who continue to serve and protect the country.

“I’d like to think that people take time out to think about and pray not only for the fallen, but for their families and their children,” Foti said. “Same thing for our servicemen. Every time we lose a serviceman, it affects me like I lost my brother. God bless them.”

And Foti’s memorial to Bobby remains a permanent part of his home.

“I don’t know that I’ll ever take it down,” he said. “It’s here forever, until I’m gone.”

On the anniversary, Dr. Foti and his wife Suzanne will head home to New York for a special mass in Bobby’s memory that his mother has arranged. And then they’ll spend time with family, including Robert Jr., who followed his late father’s footsteps into a career with the NYFD, and his brother Joseph, who recently retired from the department.