In Memory of Ulf Ramm Ericson

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Ten years ago today I got a call from my godmother, Helen Ericson, saying that my Uncle Ulf was working on the 91st floor and she was afraid that he had not made it out. Ulf, age 79 was still working as a civil engineer. Ulf gave up his spot on the elevator in hopes that one of the younger generation would have a chance to get out of the South Tower. Ulf went up to his office and that is about when the plane hit.
Ulf was one of the heroes from 9/11.
My heart goes out to both Cathy and Helen today. May there be peace to each of you.
Love, Lissa

*** Posted by Melissa Percy Spalding on 2011-09-11 ***

I am currently in the Navy deploying in Sigonella, Italy. Today we run the 5k in memory of all the victims of 9-11. I had the honor to run with your name in my collar tags. It inspired me to run fast and to pay tribute to you and all those who perish in the tragic events of 9-11. God Bless!

*** Posted by Anonymous on 2011-09-09 ***

I picked your father's name from a list on the blackboard at school. I looked his name up in the computer, among all others who lost their lives at the Twin Towers, 9-11 Victim Memorial. It seems to me, that he would of been a very interesting person to talk to. I could only imagine the stories he would tell about his adventures. You were very fortunate to have spent such good times with him. I am making a "Star", with his name on it, for a Memorial, remembrance at my school, Maconquah Middle School, 8th Grade, Bunker Hill, Indiana. God Bless You! Pacia

*** Posted by Pacia Breeden 13 years old on 2006-09-11 ***

My Dad was patient, loving, sweet, intelligent, caring, quiet and modest – and, of course, I think he was perfect.  Luckily, he felt the same way about me.

He was a man devoted to his family, his career, adventure, and travel. 

My parents were married for 48 years and in those years they lived in Connecticut, New York City, New Jersey, Minnesota, Pittsburgh, the Phillipines, Indonesia, and Canada.  Both of them loved the adventure of a new place and friends - be it the woods of Minnesota or the wild jungles of Indonesia.

At age 79, my father continued to work as a civil engineer because he loved engineering. One of his co-workers remarked to me that my father put them all to shame with his mental and physical energy. Certainly it would be fair to say that my father died doing what he loved.

Naturally, Dad combined his love for adventure and travel, and during the last 10 years, I was in the fortunate position of being his adventure travel companion.  We trekked and camped in the hills of Nepal to experience first hand the mountains…we cruised the South Pacific in a small 100 passenger ship and snorkeled daily…we camped while on safari in Tanzania…we rode horses among the giraffe in Kenya….we flew in a hot air balloon over the  Serengeti…we drove up and down Norway and Sweden to see the Loffoten Islands  and reveled in crossing the Artic Circle…..we ferried over to St. Petersburg to see palaces, art and culture…and we cruised Antarctica to walk among  penguins and  be in awe of the ice mountains and to put our feet on the  remotest continent.  In April, we took what was to be our last trip together, an impromptu trip to Maui, where we spent a week on the beach and in the water, snorkeling, reading, and relaxing. 

He always kidded me about packing too much and I was amazed at how little he could pack for a 3-week trip.  I kidded him about his snoring and he always pretended to be amazed that I could hear it from 2 rooms away. 

Our time together let us really get to know each other – not just by talking, but by experiencing something together.

Needless to say, I have many wonderful memories of my travels with Dad, and I will treasure our collection of photos, videos, and mementos. 

I beam with pride and love when I think of my father - his love for his work, his youthfulness and spirit, his desire to always be an adventurer and see the world, his creative voice so well-expressed in his writing and photographs, and of course, his never-ending devotion to me and Mom.

My father climbed mountains in his youth as a member of the Stanford University's Alpine Club.  He climbed peaks in the US, South America, and Europe, including the Matterhorn and many of Yosemite’s spires. He is quoted in the history of the club as saying, "It just takes a little courage, a l ittle guts, and up you go. Don't look down."  Dad reached the highest peak on September 11 and I am confident that he was looking upwards with a lot of courage and a lot guts.

I miss him terribly, but am comforted by all that he gave my mother and I when he was here.

*** Posted by Catherine Ericson on 2003-10-27 ***

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