Paul
Keating went to a carpet store for something to put on his floor
for $100, but the rug that caught his eye cost $119. As the salesman
launched into a pitch about why it could not leave the store for
$100 ‹ stain-guard and padding and such ‹ Mr. Keating grabbed
the tag. "See, it says right there," Mr. Keating said. Then he
said, as if reading aloud: "Go ahead. One hundred dollars." The
salesman laughed; Mr. Keating got his bargain. That kind of scene
was repeated often in Paul Keating's 38 years. He could annoy,
persuade or reassure with his for one-liners. "Very few people
had the gift of giving you a relentless amount of ribbing while
making you laugh," said Jeffrey Borab, a friend. Mr. Keating tried
jobs as plumber's assistant and surveyor before joining the New
York Fire Department six years ago. Because he played down his
heroic exploits and won friends with his wit, many people recall
his charm before his sacrifice. He was off duty on the morning
of Sept. 11. "It is noted that he wasn't working when he went
there, isn't it?" asked a colleague at Mr. Keating's firehouse
in SoHo. Profile published in THE NEW YORK TIMES on November 19,
2001.
Paul
Keating went to a carpet store for something to put on his floor
for $100, but the rug that caught his eye cost $119. As the salesman
launched into a pitch about why it could not leave the store for
$100 ‹ stain-guard and padding and such ‹ Mr. Keating grabbed
the tag. "See, it says right there," Mr. Keating said. Then he
said, as if reading aloud: "Go ahead. One hundred dollars." The
salesman laughed; Mr. Keating got his bargain. That kind of scene
was repeated often in Paul Keating's 38 years. He could annoy,
persuade or reassure with his for one-liners. "Very few people
had the gift of giving you a relentless amount of ribbing while
making you laugh," said Jeffrey Borab, a friend. Mr. Keating tried
jobs as plumber's assistant and surveyor before joining the New
York Fire Department six years ago. Because he played down his
heroic exploits and won friends with his wit, many people recall
his charm before his sacrifice. He was off duty on the morning
of Sept. 11. "It is noted that he wasn't working when he went
there, isn't it?" asked a colleague at Mr. Keating's firehouse
in SoHo. Profile published in THE NEW YORK TIMES on November 19,
2001.