He never gave up
Ten years after succumbing to a long battle with cancer contracted during
the response to 9/11, Montclair State University Officer Christopher Vidro
will be honored as a hero at National Police Week
n BY MITCHELL KRUGEL
Covered in soot from head to toe, Montclair State University Po-
lice Officer Christopher Vidro phoned home to tell his wife Toni Lyn
to prepare the clean-up detail. In the early-morning hours of Sept.
12, 2001 , Vidro and fellow State Campus Police Local 278 member
Paul Giardino returned from assisting with the response to the at-
tacks on the World Trade Center.
Their patrol car was one of the last that made it into the city on
9/11, and they were stationed at Stuyvesant High School, the stag-
ing area set up to receive injured first responders. Vidro was there
when both towers went down.
The powdered debris had caked on so thick that Vidro needed
three showers to scrub himself free. Actually, though, Vidro never
really could wash off all the crap.
On July 25, 2007, Sergeant Christopher Vidro, an 11-year veter-
an of the MSUPD and 35-year-old father of two, died after battling
multiple myeloma, an aggressive form of cancer resulting from his
exposure to toxins on 9/11. Now, nearly 11 years after that trage-
dy, Vidro’s passing has been officially recognized as a Line of Duty
Death (LODD).
Vidro’s name has been inscribed on the wall at the National Law
Enforcement Officers Memorial (NLEOM) in Washington, D.C. And
on May 13, his name will be read during the roll call of honor as part
of the Candlelight Vigil during National Police Week in front of Toni,
14-year-old son, Dylan, and 11-year-old daughter, Megan, who was
born just 12 days before her father passed.
“When they were selected, it was get in the car and go. They
weren’t even thinking about things that might be in the air. It was
never a question. Just, ‘Let’s go,’” recalled MSU Police Captain Ki-
eran Barrett, who went to the academy with Vidro and spearhead-
ed the department’s campaign to have Vidro’s passing declared a
LODD.
“With somebody his age developing multiple myeloma, it was
always in the back of Toni’s mind,” Barrett continued. “She was al-
ways exploring the possibility that he was exposed to toxins.”
Now that Christopher Vidro is being honored by, and enshrined
with, the law enforcement sisters and brothers he loved so much,
he can be remembered as the public servant whom Toni acknowl-
edged at 16 years old knew he wanted to be one of the good guys.
He can be distinguished as the most organized person anybody
ever met, the guy who was so meticulous when he prepared a sand-
wich that most people would be done and digested by the time he
got the lettuce set.
He can be celebrated as dedicated member of Local 278, a guy
who was great to have on the job, somebody who didn’t mind when
his brothers and sisters picked on him, who always smiled and who
was always described in the department as a loyal friend.
He can be acclaimed as an officer who lived for the tight-knit
group of law enforcement, who didn’t hesitate to take an overtime
shift because he knew when he called Toni, she would say, “OK, I
will put dinner in the over again.”
In Memoriam
Sergeant Christopher Vidro
Montclair State University Police Department
End of Watch: July 25, 2007
He will be renowned as an officer who loved the job as much as
it loved him.
“When he did get sick, all he ever talked about was going back
to work,” Toni reminisced. “Even when it was painfully obvious
at the end, he loved to talk shop. He was never angry about what
happened. He was never, “How would I feel had I not gone? May-
be I wouldn’t be in this condition.’ That was never a thought in his
mind.”
Headed into the city
Sept. 11 is still a bit of a blur in the MSU police department. When
the call came from the Port Authority Police Department asking to
send as many officers as could be detailed as soon as possible, Bar-
rett recalls everybody wanting to go. Chief Paul Cell selected Vidro
and Giardino, and when they sped off, nobody knew what they
faced until later that night.
“When they did return, they didn’t discuss too much,” Barrett
added. “Other than saying there was material everywhere, they
were covered in dust. It was more a sense of quietness from the
both of them.”
Toni, a special education teacher, was in her classroom when
one of her aides heard from her husband that a plane had crashed
into Tower 1. Then, the phone in her classroom rang.
CONTINUED ON PAGE 50
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■ APRIL 2018 49