One family's grief

Ken and Sharon Ambrose lost a beloved son, Paul, to terrorists. But they say the nation also lost a future leader to these 'senseless acts'

By Rebeccah Cantley-Falk
The Herald-Dispatch at Huntington, West Virginia

HUNTINGTON -- An American flag posted outside Ken and Sharon Ambrose's home in Pea Ridge swayed in the wind Wednesday as crisp, brown leaves fell on the sidewalk leading to their front door.

Inside, Bill Ambrose, Ken's brother, pointed out a family portrait taken when his nephew Dr. Paul Ambrose appeared to be about 5. The child with blond hair and crystal blue eyes sat in front of his parents and his older brother Scott.

Ken and Sharon Ambrose held hands Wednesday as they talked about their son Paul, a victim of the Sept. 11 terror attacks on America. The couple sat on a couch in their den, which was filled with memories of their son's life.

A homemade card with a child's wavy handwriting sat on the coffee table. Paul's hand had held a blue marker as he drew tulips on the card and wrote "A Mother's Day Gift For You."

On Sept. 11, 2001, Ken and Sharon Ambrose lost a son. The country, however, lost an up and coming national leader in health care. At 32, Paul Ambrose, was a senior clinical adviser in the Office of the U.S. Surgeon General. He had a mission, his parents said.

Paul Ambrose worked with issues such as immunizations, healthy lifestyles, medical school courses and racial and ethnic disparities in health care. His mission was to improve the health of a nation.

"We're hoping people will see a little bit of Paul and that the nation will realize what a great loss it has been to our society and to the world through these senseless, senseless acts," said Ken Ambrose, chairman of the sociology and anthropology department at Marshall University.

"These were very worthwhile people in the middle of very worthwhile lives," Sharon Ambrose said of the thousands who died in the attacks.

Paul Ambrose, a 1995 graduate of the Marshall University School of Medicine, was a passenger aboard the hijacked American Airlines Flight 77 that terrorists crashed into the Pentagon. He was on his way to Los Angeles from Washington, D.C., to attend a conference on obesity.

Paul Ambrose had been working on a national campaign to combat obesity, said Sharon Ambrose.

In the couple's den, Paul Ambrose's framed diplomas lined the fireplace hearth. After his time at Marshall, he spent three years as a resident at Dartmouth College, where he formed ties with former U.S. Surgeon General C. Everett Koop. Paul Ambrose was later instrumental in bringing Koop to the Tri-State to discuss obesity and other health concerns.

Among the framed diplomas in the Ambrose den was the master's degree in public health Paul earned from Harvard University.

"I think Paul had a love of people, a love of this state," said Sharon Ambrose, chief operating officer of St. Mary's Hospital. "I think he had many things to do to keep the health care system moving forward."

The Ambroses started a scholarship fund in their son's memory with the hopes of helping other young, passionate doctors, they said. Paul Ambrose was passionate about everything he did, his mother said.

"Fishing, going to the gym, rock climbing, skiing, whatever it was, he was enthusiastic," she said.

Recently engaged

After achieving professional successes in his young life, Paul Ambrose, a man with light brown hair and piercing blue eyes, recently found the woman he wanted to marry. Paul said goodbye to his fiancée, Bianca Angelino, when he left on the morning of the attacks.

The couple had been engaged only a couple of weeks, Sharon Ambrose said. Before Paul left he told Angelino, "I miss you already," his mother said.

Angelino called the Ambroses when the terror attacks began to unfold in New York, Ken Ambrose said.

"She was saying that his flight left earlier, and we assumed he was out in the Midwest," he said.

As the day dragged on, the Ambroses never heard from their son. Paul Ambrose had left his cell phone at home. His mother kept calling, waiting for her son to pick up and say, "Ambrose here," she said.

"You could hope he was late or he gave his seat away," Sharon Ambrose said.

The aftermath

The Ambroses received official confirmation that night that terrorists had taken their son's life. The reality of the tragedy is still difficult for the couple to grasp. Sharon Ambrose still feels like her son should come through the door, she said.

In the days following the attack, the Ambroses attended the national memorial at the Cathedral Church of St. Peter and St. Paul in Washington, D.C. The family also went to the Pentagon and left flowers. Angelino left Paul's government ID badge and two roses.

"That was the first time we had been with other families of the crash, and that was very helpful in the sense that they were experiencing the same thing we experienced," Ken Ambrose said. "The kinship. It was painful, but it was helpful."

Paul Ambrose's death was the second time the Ambroses' hearts were broken by the death of a child. Paul's brother Kenneth Scott Ambrose died in 1998 after developing blood clots in his lungs. Scott Ambrose also was 32 when he died.

"We're relying on each other," Ken Ambrose said, as he reached for his wife's hand.

The Ambroses don't know what the solution is to terrorism, they said. They only know that their country must take action.

"You're still at the point that it's inconceivable that people would do that," Sharon Ambrose said. "What is the deterrent for people like that?"

"Whatever it takes to put a stop to the loss of life and terror," Ken Ambrose said. "But I don't know what that is."

Used with permission of The Herald-Dispatch at Huntington, W. Va.

Community celebrates life of fallen star

Emotion-charged ceremony to honor Dr. Paul Ambrose lasts nearly 2 hours

By Tim R. Massey
The Herald-Dispatch at Huntington, West Virginia

HUNTINGTON -- In an ideal world, Dr. Adam Wooten would be rehearsing his best man's speech for his lifelong friend's impending wedding.

Instead, the young physician was recounting the incredible life of 32-year-old Dr. Paul Ambrose to a theater filled with grief-stricken family and friends.

The occasion was a memorial service Sunday afternoon at the Joan C. Edwards Performing Arts Center for the rising star of public health whose life ended Sept. 11 when terrorists hijacked the airplane he was riding in and crashed it into the Pentagon.

"I told people that my best friend was going to be the youngest surgeon general," Dr. Wooten told the teary-eyed audience of about 900 people that included Gov. Bob Wise and U.S. Sen. Jay Rockefeller, D-W.Va.

He spoke of his friend's "pathological modesty" despite his many accomplishments that had earned him a master's degree in public health at Harvard University and a job as a senior clinical adviser in the Office of the U.S. Surgeon General. He was a 1995 graduate of the Marshall University School of Medicine. "I lost my best friend," Wooten said. "My life will never be the same."

Other speakers -- from Deputy Surgeon General Ken Moritsugu to Dr. Donald Kollisch of the Dartmouth School of Medicine -- spoke of a handsome blue-eyed man who was passionate about everything he did and a physician who cared deeply about public health.

Despite the overwhelming sadness that pervaded the auditorium, the emphasis of the service was celebrating Ambrose's life by establishing a Paul W. Ambrose Memorial Scholarship with the Marshall School of Medicine. Cleveland, Ohio, lawyer John Drinko has donated $10,000 to the scholarship to ensure that it is endowed, university officials said.

"This should not just be an ordinary scholarship," said Dr. Bob Walker, a close friend of Ambrose and his parents, Kenneth and Sharon Ambrose, and chairman of Marshall School of Medicine's Rural Health Department. "This should be a fund for someone who is like Paul, someone willing to do something different, to take a chance.

"Paul took risks. He was not a traditional guy," Walker said.

The celebration that lasted nearly two hours was charged with emotions, from gasps of grief to chuckles of joy. In addition to the personal remembrances of friends and family and several stirring songs by Broadway performer Mark McVey, the event concluded with a video of Ambrose's short, but eventful life. MotionMasters of Charleston produced the video free of charge.

"It's amazing that one person could touch so many lives," observed Kenny Thibadeau, a friend from Washington, D.C., who worked out with Ambrose at a health club. "I thought of him as my best friend, but Paul had so many friends. I just knew him for a short time. A lot of people here knew him for his whole life."

Dr. Jack Adams, a psychiatrist who worked closely with Ambrose when he was a student, spoke for many in the audience.

"I can't remember a time when I cried for an hour and a half without stopping," he said at the end.

Hundreds of people began lining up outside the theater nearly two hours before the 2 p.m. ceremony, and waited in line for nearly two hours after the service to personally give their condolences to the Ambroses and Paul Ambrose's fiancee, Bianca Angelino. Many wrote checks to the scholarship fund in memory of the terrorism victim.

"Evil cowards have ended his life, but they have not killed his spirit," said Dr. Gary Patton, chaplain of St. Mary's Hospital.

Used with permission of The Herald-Dispatch at Huntington, W. Va.

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