That shouldn't be too difficult. Those two aren't exactly brain surgeons. They'll give it up. Hardest part might be keeping their names straight. The white guy's name is Mike Black. They call him White Mike. The black guy's name is Mike White. His street name is Black Mike.
When my son Jimmy got on the PD, he was assigned to this precinct. The two of us would meet here every Sunday morning for breakfast. For the past ten years, uh, every Sunday I go to Mass and... then come back here to this counter alone. I... try to remember his voice... the cop-fireman banter, the love, respect we had for one another. Every Sunday that goes by, memory fades a bit. But... this is how I want to remember him.
Well, that's why we're doing this project, right, Joe? Keep those memories alive. And, uh... while I hate to admit it... it's been a real honour working with you on this project. I feel like I've found a friend for life.
Here's to us. A grumpy old fireman with no personality and a... charismatic... charming cop who came together... to help to build something that will last forever.
Oh! Interim boss. It's your desk. Although I wish you could've seen their faces when I moved a few things in there. It was like I had just taken over Joe DiMaggio's locker.
We were both down there on that pile, Joe. Digging, searching, hoping. When we first met, I remember you telling me how moved you were at seeing some of the same faces, day in and day out, down there at the site. Everybody coming together to pitch in and help out. How inspired you were that so much evil and pain could be channeled into so much good. Celebrate that. Share that. You said you did it for the families. You're one of the families, too, Joe. Don't forget that.
9/11. I've actually never told anybody that before. Just... too embarrassed, you know? And everyone always asks me, you know: "Where were you?" And... I would lie.