Chris Anderson: Memory of 9/11 victim inspires walk to Yankee Stadium

Sep. 3--Gary Albero was almost always late. In fact, they used to trick him into thinking things started an hour earlier than they actually did. Then came the morning of Sept. 11, 2001, and wouldn't you know it? Of all the days to show up on time.

He was an insurance broker, working in 2 World Trade Center when the plane hit. He was able to call his wife before he died. She still wears his wedding ring around her neck. His devastated parents never recovered. He was 39.

Of course, no one loved the New York Yankees more than Gary. Well, OK, maybe Richard did. Richard Albero was Gary's uncle, and they used to go to the games together from New Jersey. They'd sit in the upper deck. Closer to the clouds that way. When Gary was older they would stop at a bar near the stadium called Stan's and drink a Guinness or two. The good times.

Now this whole idea came together rather quickly, and, looking back, it made perfect sense. To honor Gary's memory, Richard Albero would walk from Steinbrenner Field in Tampa (New York's spring training site) to home plate at Yankee Stadium in the Bronx -- a total of 1,138 miles. And that's exactly what the Lakewood Ranch resident did in 2015. It took 86 days and nine pairs of shoes to complete, and there was never a thought in his mind that he couldn't.

Before the walk, Albero ranked who he felt were the top 1,138 Yankee players of all time dating back to 1913 -- the process took months -- and each mile corresponded with a player. Babe Ruth, the greatest of all, was the last mile of the journey.

Albero, who was 65 years old then, also raised $56,000 for the Wounded Warrior Project and chronicled the adventure in a recently released book titled "Not Just a Walk in the Park," which is available on Amazon.

Who would have thought just walking could be so dangerous? Albero says he was almost killed "five or six times." Speeding trucks sometimes swept him off his feet, drivers nearly clipped him in cars while putting in eye drops as they drove, and he was once nearly hit by a flying chair and couch.

Somewhere near Ocala he stopped to take a picture of a pond full of bullfrogs when a lady pointed a shotgun at his head. She didn't want any pictures taken of her property, apparently. Meth lab in the back, he figures.

He stopped at many roadside memorials and prayed at each one. He saw two young children on a farm in North Carolina, gave them Wounded Warrior bracelets, and wonders if one day maybe they won't become military heroes. He loved walking through the stretch of tall pines in Georgia and how they sounded and smelled as they swayed, the pride people took as they got out of their cars, adjusted their bonnets and ties and walked into small-town churches, and the horse who galloped up and put its head on his shoulder as he rested near a field.

Seeing the Vietnam Veterans Memorial was moving. The George Washington Bridge had an impact. When he walked into the Wounded Warriors headquarters, he couldn't believe it when 200 employees stopped working and clapped. This brought him to tears.

When he finally arrived in New York, he went to Stan's, ordered a Guinness, hopped up on the bar and made a toast to those he had walked for.

Then he went to Yankee Stadium, where he would be honored before a game and the journey would end. It was May 26, 2015, New York vs. Kansas City, and as he sat there waiting to be introduced, he looked to the upper deck. He could see himself sitting there with his nephew, a smiling young kid with a Yankees hat on, having no earthly idea that the players he was cheering for would one day represent miles in his uncle's inspiring walk.

Albero touched home plate as the players and fans cheered and then he went to the mound and threw out the ceremonial first pitch. It was a perfect strike.

There was one thing left to do in New York, and that was to visit the National September 11 Memorial & Museum. He found the name of his nephew, Gary Albero, and placed a flower, a Wounded Warrior flag and a New York Yankees hat on it.

And then he went home.

Email Chris Anderson at [email protected].

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