John Beaven tried his best to not be defined by Sept. 11, 2001.
He lost his father that day, forever linking him to this infamous piece of American history. But he refused to let grief be the axis on which his world revolved. He was determined to live in a manner that deemed his tragedy a hurdle and not a hindrance.
Now, as he is upon the 15th anniversary, now that he has risen to the ranks of vice-president in the Warriors organization, it is clear how 9/11 ended up defining him after all.
Beaven wound up exemplifying the very spirit that propelled America past that horrific day. It takes relentlessness to push on. It takes hope to see better days ahead, hope convincing enough to subdue the pain.
That’s how Beaven is thriving 15 years after his life was rocked by terrorists. That’s how, in several ways, America is thriving.
“It’s interesting to see how things have played out,” Beaven said Wednesday, beneath the glare of the prenoon Bay Area sun at Oakland’s City Center. “What I’ve learned over the last 15 years is the importance of how you react. ... It’s not the cards you’re dealt, it’s the hand you play. I think that’s important because, right or wrong, I get a platform to grieve and have what happened be acknowledged in a way that a lot of other people who are equally as deserving don’t. So keeping my chin up and trying to take a positive perspective and move on from it, I think it’s very important.”
Beaven’s father, Alan -- then an Oakland resident and top-notch environmental attorney -- was one of the people who fought hijackers and reclaimed control of United Flight 93, bound for San Francisco. He died a hero the day after his wedding anniversary and a month shy of his 49th birthday. In the days after the crash, a handwritten note was found hanging in Alan’s New York office. The message on the note made perfect sense in light of what happened:
“Fear, who cares?”
The actions of Alan Beaven and his cohorts limited the fatalities to the plane’s 44 passengers, which included seven crew members and four al-Qaeda operatives who used knives and box cutters to take over the plane. They had intentions of crashing into another U.S. landmark, possibly the White House.
John Beaven, son of New Zealand immigrants, was in Australia at the time. Footage of the World Trade Center towers ablaze and the blackened west side of the Pentagon interrupted the broadcast and broke his heart. He had lived in New York for seven years.
Then at about 2 a.m. down under, his mother called.
“Everything was chaotic that day,” said Beaven’s mom, Liz, who was busy at work running Sacramento Waldorf School that morning when she got the call about her ex-husband.
“I didn’t wait that long to call him,” she said. “But knowing you are about to deliver the news that is going to blow your child’s world apart. ... That’s a hard thing to do.”
Beaven was 21 years old when his father died. He had last seen him two months earlier.
His dad came to visit him in San Diego, where Beaven -- a starting pitcher at UC San Diego and a reliever for his one year in the Tampa Bay Rays farm system -- was playing summer baseball.
His father was leaving for India soon for a yearlong sabbatical. After years as a defense lawyer, he switched to the environmental sector and found a passion in the fight for clean water. India was going to get his help, but first he spent time with his son.
Beaven and his dad developed a bond even though he’d grown up without seeing his father every day. Born in England, Beaven and his family moved to New York when he was 5. At age 7, his parents split and at age 12, he moved to Sacramento with his mother.
To be closer to his children, Alan had his law firm establish an office in San Francisco.
“That’s what I remember,” Beaven said, “his commitment, especially in my elder years, to us. My sister, who was 5 in 2001, he was totally devoted to her. Kids loved him. He was one of those adults that had that gravitational pull.”
In the months after his father’s death, Beaven was desperate for information. Family members were allowed to visit the site of the plane crash, in Somerset County, Pennsylvania, and they were among the first to hear the cockpit recordings when they were discovered.
At some point, though, Beaven knew he must advance past grief. He knew to honor his father’s death he had to make the most of his own life.
That’s one of the things he said he’s most proud of, that his father and the other heroes on that plane _ including Pleasanton’s Thomas Burnett and Los Gatos High grads Todd Beamer and Mark Bingham _ helped America heal.
The attention at first was on the collapse of the twin towers and the destruction of the Pentagon. The enormity of the largest attack on U.S. soil left the country shocked and devastated.
And then resolve surfaced, the focus centering on the fight to cling to the core principles of the country. And the passengers on Flight 93 exemplified that mindset. They became the story.
“I definitely take pride in the fact he was part of that,” Beaven said. The Warriors held a benefit for the local families involved in the attack. Beaven met Travis Stanley, a Warriors executive at the time. His relationship with Stanley led to him getting a job selling season tickets for the Warriors.
In 2004, he had his first child, Sara. In 2009, he married his wife Tarah. In 2011, he survived the Warriors’ ownership change. In 2014 his wife gave birth to a son, Foster.
Beaven is now entering his 14th season with the franchise. He is Vice President of Ticket Sales & Services for a franchise that has maxed out its season tickets and has 32,000 on its wait list.
That’s not just surviving, but thriving. And some of his dad’s attributes helped him along the way: calm, levelheadedness, a dry wit, consistency, likability.