After the terrorist attacks in New York City, Washington, D.C., and western Pennsylvania September 11, the United States swore it would never forget. The NCAA has helped in that regard at several of its championships since then.

The flag's appearance at two of the NCAA's most coveted finals was almost made out of whole cloth. With the weathered and tattered fabric set to be retired, a series of circumstances brought the country's most inspirational version of Old Glory to the basketball courts in San Antonio and Atlanta.

Meanwhile, the Division I Men's and Women's Basketball Committees were wondering how to uniquely recognize the events of September 11, particularly given that the Final Fours were late in the series of major sporting events that already had given tribute.

"When the committee heard that the Port Authority was going to retire the flag, members became interested in whether they would consider bringing it to the Final Fours," said the NCAA's Bill Hancock, who has handled administration duties for the Division I Men's Basketball Championship for almost two decades. "When we contacted the Port Authority, they were immediately excited about the idea."

The NCAA paid for three Port Authority police officers, Nat Harris, Tom Hoey and Brian Toohey, to fly from New York to San Antonio for the Women's Final Four, then to Atlanta for the Men's Final Four. Those three officers were selected in part because they had college basketball backgrounds.

"It was an honor to be asked to do this on its own merit, but then throw in the fact that we were going to the NCAA tournaments, which is where anyone who played college basketball wants to be, and it was incredible," said Toohey, a former Canisius College cager.

"When the flag came out and people realized that it was the flag, you could've heard a pin drop," said Sue Donohoe, director of the women's championship. "It was one of the most stirring things I'd ever witnessed."

The procession drew similar reaction in Atlanta before the men's final between the University of Maryland, College Park, and Indiana University, Bloomington.

Hancock said, "The officers were so proud to be there, and we kept saying, 'we're so proud to have you,' and they'd say, 'we're prouder than you.' They just loved it."

Flag draws emotional response

On September 11, Toohey was stationed at the Newark, New Jersey, airport. He had worked the midnight shift, so he was headed home at 7 a.m. But first he had a doctor's appointment at 8. On his way out of the doctor's office, he heard the receptionist talking about an incident involving a plane at one of the towers. Toohey said he didn't think much of it at the time, figuring it was a small plane and that it had been an accident.

"Then as I was driving home I heard it was a big plane and that there was a huge fire," Toohey said. "Then the second plane hit, and I knew that was it. So I went home, got some clothes and went back to the Newark airport, and was there for the next 30 hours."

Though Toohey may have been spared being at the site of the attacks, he was not spared the personal attachment to the 37 officers lost that day, the largest single-day loss of any police department in the history of the United States. Of those, he said, four were his classmates from the police academy, and he personally knew at least 25 more.

"I had been around that flag tons of times," Toohey said. "And any time it came out it drew emotional responses from everyone. The student-athletes who carried it in San Antonio were visibly emotional. The emotional response that flag brings anywhere you take it is unbelievable."

Right now, the flag indeed is retired at the Smithsonian, part of a September 11 exhibit that includes the names of the more than 3,000 people who died that day. The Smithsonian is planning to move the exhibit to the American history part of the building as a permanent display.

"And he was as proud as a peacock."

A son's moment

McEneaney wasn't there because he was in the World Trade Center tower hit by the first plane on September 11. He was a vice-president for Cantor Fitzgerald, the bond trading company that lost 700 employees that day.

But there was another McEneaney at the lacrosse championship, Eamon's 12-year-old son, Brendan, who received a special memento in his father's honor during the halftime ceremony.

"I've known him since he was born," said Eamon McEneaney's coach, Richie Moran, who not only led the Big Red to the 1977 championship, but to two others in 1971 and 1976. "He's gone through a tough time. It was wonderful that he came. When Eamon's name was announced during the ceremony, Brendan and I had a chance to hug."

The ceremony took place at midfield, where the 1977 team gathered around two wooden lacrosse sticks that Brian Lasda, one of the Cornell players, had commissioned to be made at an American Indian reservation in New York.

"When Eamon first came here he used a wooden stick -- he's always been a strong advocate of wooden sticks," Moran said. "Then of course by 1977, we were pretty much into plastic."

The sticks were signed by McEneaney's teammates. Team members also wore visors and jerseys with No. 10 on them, McEneaney's number as a player. Then, at Moran's request, the crowd of almost 20,000 joined with the Cornell team in singing "God Bless America."

"For many years, we always sang 'God Bless America' in our locker room after games, whether we won or not," Moran said. "We also sang John Denver's 'Country Boy' after that if we had won. We didn't sing 'Country Boy' at halftime that day, but we did sing it at the pavilion after the game."

In September, Cornell will name its renovated film room and lacrosse meeting room after McEneaney. The school also will endow a professorship in his name that will bring in a leading literary scholar from Ireland each year.

"It was a fitting time to do this."