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A Port Authority police officer for twenty-eight years, assigned to the Holland Tunnel. He was one of three officers from that command killed that morning, and was last seen at roll call.
There was an apple tree in his grandfather's garden and the children were forbidden to touch it. He and his cousins picked the apples anyway, still green. When the old man found them gone he demanded to know who had disobeyed him, and they all lied - except that when he was cornered Nathaniel would go teary-eyed and tell the truth. His cousin Delores remembered it: then we all got punished, but he never did.
From that almost biblical beginning he stayed on the side of authority for the rest of his life. She said he was always trying to keep everyone else on the straight and narrow.
His friends and colleagues called him righteous and generous. He looked after his housebound mother, calling in several times a week to sit with her. When a few of them went out for a drink or a meal after a shift he would quietly pick up the bill.
An officer who worked with him at the Holland Tunnel was once stranded in Brooklyn with a flat tyre. He drove over from Jersey City to sit with her until the tow truck came. She said: and the thing was, I didn't even have to ask.
He held the Meritorious Active Duty Award and a Police Group Citation.
At the dedication of the Tribute in Light on the eleventh of March 2002, his daughter Valerie was chosen to switch on the two banks of forty-four searchlights.
How he died
Police Officer Nathaniel Webb was killed in the September 11, 2001, terrorist attacks while attempting to rescue the victims trapped in the World Trade Center.
Officer Webb had served with the Port Authority of New York and New Jersey Police Department for over 35 years.
Survived by
His daughters Camille and Valerie, and his mother.
The World Trade Center
September 11, 2001
The first aircraft struck the north tower at 8:46 in the morning, the second the south tower at 9:03. The south tower came down at 9:59, the north at 10:28.
Two thousand seven hundred and fifty-three people were killed here: in the offices above the impacts, on the floors below them, in the plaza, in the lobbies, on the stairs, and aboard the two aeroplanes. Three hundred and forty-three were firefighters of the New York City Fire Department. Seventy-one were law enforcement officers. Eight were paramedics and emergency medical technicians.
On a clear Tuesday morning, four airliners were taken. Two were flown into the towers of the World Trade Center in New York, one into the western face of the Pentagon, and one came down in a field near Shanksville, Pennsylvania, after the passengers and crew went forward at the cockpit door.
Two thousand nine hundred and seventy-seven people were killed. Three hundred and forty-three were firefighters of the New York City Fire Department. Seventy-one were law enforcement officers. Eight were paramedics and emergency medical technicians. One hundred and twenty-five died at the Pentagon, military and civilian together. The rest - some two thousand four hundred of them - had gone to work, or boarded a plane, and belonged to no service at all.
None of them began that morning as heroes. A great many of them ended it as heroes: men and women who carried strangers down stairwells, who stayed with people who could not walk, who held a door, who went back up. Four men on a flight over Pennsylvania, who had thirty minutes of telephone calls and knew what had already happened, decided where their aircraft would come down.
At Arlington, the nation set aside its own rules of eligibility and buried the Pentagon's civilian dead in national ground. It had decided that on this day the distinction did not apply.
