Transcript: Mayor Adams Delivers Remarks at Funeral for Dedicated Public Servant Joseph J. Esposito

January 16, 2024

Mayor Eric Adams: To Holly, Eve, Frank. And in the absence of Mother Rose, who's not here. This morning, preparing for today, I nicked myself shaving. I was trying to get through today without just laughing so hard about Joe. 

I think Monsignor Cassato really touched on it. Joe reminds me of the story I tell of getting on a roller coaster, and I hate roller coasters. And I remember buckling in; and next to me, the person put the bar over himself, and they put the bar over me. And the gentleman next to me held on and he closed his eyes real tight. 

And the roller coaster took off, and we went through the tops, the dips, the movements, the curve. And when we pulled to the stop, he asked the question, “Is it over? Is it over?” 

There were others on that ride. We saw the high points and low points, and although we were afraid and there were moments when the fear was in the pit of our stomach, when we finished, we said, what a ride. What a ride. 

That was Joe. Joe rode to heck out of life. He saw the ups, the downs. He saw the birth of his beautiful children. He witnessed an experience of loss. Of losing his wonderful wife Chris. He was here and saw the deep depth of 9/11 as he led the department. 

He saw us emerge out of the tragedies and the high points of it. He did not just hold on. He rode life well. And although there's a level of natural pain that's associated when you lose someone that you care for, we have to really smile. 

Joe did not ever want to just exist, he wanted to live. When I went to the hospital and peeked my head into the room and asked the nurses, where's Joe? He was running around the hospital floor. He sent us that video of him on a little walker; and then he threw the walker to the side and said, listen, I'm living life. 

And then he would make that terrible wine. And I don't know why he thought it was good. And he laughed. We would have dinners some time with my Monsignor Cassato, Monsignor Jamie and [Alex Roth] and we'll sit down. 

And they just don't make men like Joe anymore. When he shook your hand, he meant it. He was comfortable in any setting, no matter what. He was the perfect chief of the department in a diversified city like this. He could walk into any community, and they knew who he was. 

And I remember that moment when he left the hospital, and he responded to the emergency, and I saw him, and I knew that Joe was not going to ever just exist, he was going to live life. 

And all we can do is to make sure we don't go through life holding on to the bar, closing our eyes and going through the motion and asking the question, is it over? We should ride this life like Joe; and when we finish, like Joe, we'll say, what a ride. What a ride. What a ride. 

Police Commissioner Edward Caban: Good morning, everyone. Cardinal Dolan, Bishop Byrne, Monsignor Cassato. I'm honored to have been asked to share a few words about a legend who walked among us, the longest serving NYPD Chief of Department, a friend to countless cops, fellow New Yorkers and strangers alike, the one and only Joseph J. Esposito. 

To Rose, Michael, Eve, Holly, Frank, and all the beautiful grandkids as well as the many other family members and friends who join us here, on behalf of the more than 50,000 members of the NYPD, to which Chief Esposito will forever be a cherished member, I offer my deepest condolences for your immeasurable loss.  

Over the past few days, countless stories have been shared about the man simply known as Espo. He gave a lifetime of service to the city he loved. Always more than a job, even more than a career, public service was a true calling for him, a devotion that was never taught. It lived within him and came as natural as taking a breath. 

His NYPD career spanned more than four decades, with his first day spent on patrol in his home borough of Brooklyn. He would go on to earn a gold shield from Organized Crime Control Bureau; and believe it or not, he wouldn't make sergeant until he had a dozen years on the job. 

No doubt this lengthy experience as a cop and as an investigator helped to mold him into the ultimate cops' cop. And even as he climbed the ranks, he never forgot who he was or where he came from; and in August of 2000, he reached a pinnacle when he was named Chief of Department. Everything in his career and in his heart prepared him for that vital role.  

One of the most common things I've heard said about Chief Esposito is actually quite rare, that he was deeply respected. At every stage of his career, Chief Esposito had the backing of his colleagues. And it was earned not by the stars on his shoulder but by the man he was. He led from the front. And of course, he was about the mission and the importance of public safety, but more than that, he cared deeply about his people, their careers and their families, because he, too, was a family man.  

Together with the love of his life, Chris, who I know greeted him with open arms in heaven, they raised a beautiful family. And to Eve, Holly and Frank, you had to share your dad with all of us. Such a sacrifice can never be repaid. I just hope you know today that in the time he was away from you, he was making our city a much better place for all. 

And there was no time our city and our department needed him more than 9/11. Espo helped us get through those darkest of days. In many ways, he was the light. Beyond his own resolve to never quit, his faith guided him and helped to inspire the masses despite the weight of all that was lost. 

Much has been said about the public acts of leadership or bravery carried out by Chief Esposito, but what is less known, though no less powerful, are the countless times Joe helped privately. Despite a larger-than-life persona, he was also incredible one on one, connecting with so many: one conversation, one electric smile at a time.  

And then there are the things that he did no one really knows about, not for praise or publicity, but because it's who he was. I will leave you one such example. On the day Joe retired, many of you recall the tremendous walkout he was given.  

Well, if you thought he just went home after that, you really don't know the man. The walkout might have been over, but the day was not, and Espo was still Chief of Department until midnight. So, what did he do? Naturally, he went back to his office.

And as the last tour of his 40 plus years of service began to wind down, and as his tenure as the longest running Chief of Department slowly came to a close, Chief Esposito left police headquarters one last time and made his way to Ground Zero. Once there, in that most sacred place, standing beside Memorial Pools, Chief Esposito took a knee and said a prayer.  

He concluded his career in the presence of God in quiet reflection, honoring the service and sacrifice of all those who perished that terrible day. That was Joe Esposito, the finest of New York's Finest now and always. Rest in peace, Espo. We will never forget you. Thank you, and God bless. 

Commissioner Zach Iscol, New York City Emergency Management: Shortly after I took this job, Espo took me out to lunch at Bamonte's, one of his favorites, family owned and operated since 1900. 

I had just lost my mom and he had just lost Chris, his wife of 52 years. We talked about a lot of things over that lunch. He gave me some much needed advice, like you can't fight City Hall. Mr. Mayor, I'm still working on that one. We talked about emergency management, we talked a lot about the people who made up Emergency Management.  

But mostly we talked about family. Holly and Eve, he loved you guys so much, and he was so proud of the two of you. And the way he kvelled over his grandkids, [Guinevere, Aiden, Juliet and Jake.] I would have been sitting next to my Jewish mom talking about her own grandkids. Rose, Michael, the entire Esposito family, the entire city of New York is grieving with you. 

As we walked out of that lunch, we paused at what had once been and I guess will always be Joe DiMaggio's table. We all know that famous song lyric by Paul Simon, where have you gone, Joe DiMaggio? America lifts its lonely eyes to you. 

Joe DiMaggio led the New York Yankees to nine World Series championships. He made the All Star team every year he played, and his 56-game hitting streak still stands in Major League Baseball. 

But I was standing next to Joe Esposito. Joe Esposito who served in the NYPD for over four decades, 12 as Chief of Department, led the city through 9/11, through Hurricane Sandy and emergency management for five years. 

He joined the NYPD in 1968, that's the same year that Paul Simon wrote those lyrics. And when DiMaggio passed away, Paul Simon explained what he meant by that line. It was 1968. Martin Luther King had just been killed, as had Bobby Kennedy, and the nation was mourning their loss. The Vietnam war was escalating abroad, civil unrest was escalating at home, and the country felt adrift and rudderless. 

Paul Simon wanted to know, where had our heroes gone? For him, DiMaggio was, and Simon wrote this when DiMaggio passed away, he said, DiMaggio was a World War II guy, represented the values of that America, excellence and fulfillment of duty. 

He often played in pain, combined with a grace that implied purity of spirit, an off the field dignity and a jealously guarded private life. It was still said he grieved for his former wife, Marilyn Monroe, and sent fresh flowers to her grave every single week.  

But if Paul Simon wanted to know where such heroes had gone, he only had to look for Joe Esposito. Espo was a real hero. We know and the stories have been shared about his heroism on the job on 9/11, but he was also heroic in quieter ways. He would insist on shaking the hand of every officer, every single officer, detailed to Times Square on New Year's Eve.  

He showed us how even in a 365, 24/7 job you could always carve time out. You always should, had to carve time out for family, especially when your family needed you most. The way he loved his wife Chris, her famous visits and lunches at the office, the way she lit him up and everyone around her. Marilyn Monroe had nothing on Chris. 

He showed his team how to balance the chaos of emergencies with the joy and appreciation for every single day. He celebrated every single staff member's birthday, and there were hundreds of them as a special occasion. He sang throughout the halls, brought laughter and perspective to tense meetings. When someone announced an engagement or the birth of a new family member, he overflowed with genuine delight.  

And he taught a whole generation of emergency managers to help people above all else. And believe it or not, I know this is hard to believe, government doesn't always work. But Espo made it work, and he made sure it worked for people on the most personal level.  

If he was ever confronted with "that's not our job," "we don't want to set a precedent," "we can't do that," "we don't do this," he'd recite the same response to his team again and again and again: do you know how I survived the NYPD for 44 years and 12 as Chief of Department? With these words: yeah, we can do something like that. Repeat after me: yeah, we can do something like that.  

In the last 10 years since he took the helm at Emergency Management, our agency has responded to extreme weather from snowstorms to hurricanes and flash floods, pandemics from Covid to Legionnaires, monkeypox and Ebola, building collapses and explosions, plane crashes. fires, mass migrations. We've evacuated hospitals and migrant camps. We've deployed teams to Puerto Rico, Haiti and around the country when our fellow Americans needed us most. 

He changed the way we work with communities, the way we educate and prepare the public, the way we issue public warnings and notifications, the way we protect flood prone areas through mitigation projects. The team that Espo built has never left our city or our country down because our attitude is and will always be, yeah, we can do something about that.  

The last thing I want to leave you all with is that our agency never works in a vacuum. We work and rely on our sister agencies, and witnessing the city's preparation and response to any number of emergencies is really something to behold. 

But our agencies didn't always work well together. There's the famous Battle of the Badges; and believe me, I know some of you culprits are still in this room. But Espo changed that during his time leading the NYPD and Emergency Management. 

Last night, we got a little bit of snow. We're expecting some more weather towards the end of this week. Last night, first responders from EMS, NYPD, FDNY were staged around the city ready to respond to anyone in need. Sanitation crews put down 40 million pounds of salt working to keep our roads safe and open. 

911 and 311 operators were taking calls. Operations centers were staffed across the city. Forestry crews from Parks were on standby to clear down trees. Drivers from the Tow Truck Task Force were out in the cold, ready to move disabled vehicles out of the roads. Bus and subway operators kept people moving around the city. DEP, Sanitation and DOT had cleared catch basins. Crews from ConEd and PSEG were monitoring the grid. 

 And this morning, DOE bus drivers safely dropped off hundreds of thousands of kids at school where their custodians showed up earlier to check the boilers, salt and shovel snow. This joint effort, this interagency response and close coordination, this is all part of Espo's legacy. That is the team that Espo built. 

And so today if you're wondering, where have you gone, Joe Esposito, that's where you can always find him. Thank you. 

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