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“We have never been braver. We’ve never been stronger.”
—MAYOR RUDOLPH W. GIULIANI, The New York Times 9/18/2001
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FROM AN AOL POST, 9/16/2001 8:35 PM EDT
SUBJECT: WHAT HAPPENED IN THE FINAL MOMENTS TO YOUR LOVED ONES
What Happened September 11, 2001
To those of you who lost loved ones in the attack on the World Trade Center and the Pentagon, here’s what happened in their final moments.
Your father was a hero. When the building shook from the blast, he did not concern himself with fear. He helped unblock an office door which had been barricaded by debris and furniture that had moved. He freed three people.
Your friend who was on the plane being hijacked recognized immediately how serious the matter was and reached to calm the shaking hand of the person in the next seat.
Your wife saw a man bleeding from his head, and she tore a piece from her shirt and made a bandage for him.
Your aunt helped her co-workers who could not find the exit through the smoke—they all made it. Then she went back for others.
Your nephew who was the pilot on the plane had only the safety of everyone on board in focus every second.
Your grandfather found a young man pinned under a fallen piece of ceiling, and even when the young man said to go on without him, he stayed until others heard the calls and came to help.
Your husband took on the hijackers, believing that it would cost him his life. He helped save hundreds of people that none of you will ever know.
Your grandmother who worked at the Pentagon led hundreds who were physically stronger to a secure area, putting them before her own welfare, as she always has.
Your uncle gave his water to a choking woman, who gave him God’s blessing with every floor they arrived at, arm in arm.
Your brother who always wanted to be a policeman knew without doubt as he followed the cries for help up the stairs that this was the moment why.
Your sister searched her entire floor to make sure everyone was out of there before she began to make her own way down.
Your friend held the exit door open for his office mates with his wheelchair, cheering as they moved on that “We’ll all get out together.” And he didn’t so much hold on to those who lifted him down as hug them.
Your son would not let the tired woman stop. He cajoled, telling her that she reminded him of you and how you two had to meet. He even called her “Mom” to keep her moving.
Your flight attendant daughter was forced to the back of the plane with all the others on board but stood in front of them in protective defiance, keeping herself between the terrorists and her passengers.
Your sister climbed back up three flights against the crowd and the heat, in the belief that her assistant was still there.
Your college buddy’s sense of humor kept all in his voice’s range smiling and moving with hope.
Your niece provided a shoulder to lean to a man she had seen in the elevator so many times but whose name she never knew.
Your sister-in-law saw a man sitting in the stairwell coughing, and shared her asthma medicine. They moved on together.
Your firefighter brother-in-law helped hundreds of people out, redirecting them to clearer exits as he climbed higher and higher.
Your nephew and his boss carried an older woman 38 floors.
Your cousin got everyone to sing “The Long and Winding Road” as they worked their way down, making up the words they didn’t know.
Your mother’s last thoughts were the same thoughts she had as she lay her head down every night since you were born.
You wonder what happened. You want to know what these people you love were feeling, what they were thinking, what they went through in their final moments.
These are actual facts, exactly has they happened. As true as their love for you. As true as their faith in your love for them.
“I was in a wheelchair, on the 46th floor. Two of my coworkers carried me down, through all the heat in the stairwell. I kept telling them to go on ahead, but they wouldn’t leave me behind.”
—SURVIVOR FROM TOWER 2, 9/12/2001
FROM AN AOL POST, 9/15/2001 4:15 AM EDT
SUBJECT: WE ARE ALL HEROES
Wednesday night, as nine other EMTs and paramedics and I were being driven home from the World Trade Center disaster, not much was said among us. Many of us had been there almost 20 hours, but still we did not want to leave.
The pain that I feel is unbearable. I feel that there is more that I should have done. I am sure that this sentiment was shared by my co-workers.
As we drove up the West Side, I was so touched by the people who were in the streets holding signs of love and appreciation for us. They screamed to me that New York loves us and that we are heroes. Being a native New Yorker, I was not accustomed to that kind of outpouring of love and genuine affection. I am a little warmer inside knowing that all of my wonderful country is praying for me, my fellow rescuers, and, of course, the innocents who were so wrongfully taken from us.
I cannot cry any more, and I am sure that I will never be the person I was. But let me say this to all of you who read this: I love you all too and pray for all of us. Without your prayers, I cannot go on. We are all heroes, not just the ones at the WTC, but all the people who make up this great nation of ours.
“I was thinking we were doomed because there were so many people on the stairs and it wasn’t moving. Dozens and dozens of firefighters were running past us, telling us to stay calm and keep moving. I remember looking into their eyes, thinking how brave they were.”
—A WORKER FROM THE 83RD FLOOR OF THE WORLD TRADE CENTER TOWER 2, New York Magazine 9/24/2001
FROM AN AOL POST, 9/14/2001 1:40 AM EDT
SUBJECT: I WAS THERE!
I am a chief officer in the New York City Fire Department. I arrived at the scene at approx. 9:10 AM, minutes after the second plane struck Tower 2.
We were setting up a command post on West Street, just opposite the South Tower. Units dispatched from Brooklyn started to arrive and were being deployed to begin to enter the South Tower. Another chief who was with me decided to lead the newly arrived Brooklyn units into the building. I remained at the command post to coordinate the arrival of additional units dispatched to the scene.
I remember thinking, “How do you attack 30 floors of fire 70 stories above street level?”
Suddenly there was a loud noise, and I looked up to see the whole building splitting apart. It seemed that everything was going in slow motion. Tons of glass, steel and concrete falling from the sky directly above us. I turned to run, knowing all along that there was no way I could outrun a 110 story-building coming to the ground.
All I can remember was being knocked to the ground, with pieces of debris landing all around me, until the whole world went black in a choking dust cloud. I remember a firefighter yelling out “I don’t want to die here” and me responding “Neither do I, brother.” Well, we didn’t. All I can say is that I’m still here by the grace of God—I wish I could say the same for the other chief and the firefighters who entered the building only seconds before me.
Officially they are listed as “missing.” I ask anyone who reads this post to pray for their souls and for their loved ones to help them accept that these men died doing the work that they loved. “Greater love hath no man than to lay down his life for his neighbor.”
I am proud to have known such heroes.
“I will never look at a firefighter the same way again. What is it in someone, hundreds of them, to compel them to run into a burning building while everyone else is running out, just to save people they don’t even know? Their bravery has become part of our collective national legacy. Their bravery dignifies us all.”
—THE REVEREND BILL HYBELS, WILLOW CREEK COMMUNITY CHURCH, SOUTH BARRINGTON, ILLINOIS, The New York Times 9/17/2001
FROM AN AOL POST, 9/17/2001 10:35 AM EDT
SUBJECT: TO THE FAMILY OF FDNY CHIEF GANSI: THANK YOU
My husband, a fireman from Brooklyn, was in the first collapse. He survived.
As he was climbing out to safety, Chief Gansi was in front of the building. He waved to my husband and gave orders which led him in a different direction from where he was headed—and as a result of those orders, his life was saved.
Our deepest sympathy and gratitude. I am forever grateful.
FROM AN AOL POST, 9/23/2001 1:57 PM EDT
SUBJECT: MY FATHER, MY HERO
My dad was a NYC fire captain. On September 11, he rushed into the WTC to try to help rescue others. He never made it out.
Out of the 12 men from his company who went into the building, only 2 of their bodies were found, including my dad’s. I guess we are pretty lucky in that respect. I’d just like to say thanks to all the people helping my family get through this and to all the people doing anything to help during this time of crisis and mourning.
“But in a larger sense, we cannot dedicate, we cannot consecrate, we cannot hallow this ground. The brave men, living and dead, who struggled here, have consecrated it far above our poor power to add or detract.”
—ABRAHAM LINCOLN, GETTYSBURG ADDRESS
FROM AN AOL POST, 9/20/2001 3:02 PM EDT
SUBJECT: BROTHERS: A POEM WRITTEN BY A FIREFIGHTER
They were my brothers, I knew not their names.
They took a job they loved, not for fortune or fame.
Respond to the Trade Center without hesitation,
Bear witness to a scene of utter devastation.
Stretch lines to the upper floors and it will be hot,
Not knowing yet this was an evil man’s plot.
Then out of nowhere, a second plane in, Sealing the fate of those still within.
And in an instant, the buildings they fell,
In a cloud of smoke and fire reminiscent of hell.
We will pray for the families of those who were lost,
Freedom and liberty at such a high cost.
They had a job, they went to work, heroes all the same,
for they were my brothers, I knew not their names.
“Firefighters are the first lines of defense. They do the things that you and I would never do. They run up in the World Trade Center after a jumbo jet flies into it. They’re running up as people are fleeing. What more can be said?”
—PETE JANHUMEN, INTERNATIONAL ASSOCIATION OF FIRE FIGHTERS SPOKESMAN, Salon.com 9/13/2001
FROM AN AOL POST, 9/17/2001 7:34 PM EDT
SUBJECT: THANK YOU TO OUR HERO
My wife and I would like to thank the police officer or fireman who picked up our daughter who had fallen and kept her moving away from the first tower as it came down.
You may have saved her life.
I know you saved ours.
You are our hero, whoever you are.
FROM AN AOL POST, 9/17/2001 7:21 PM EDT
SUBJECT: FALLEN HEROES
This is to all of the NY Finest and the NY Bravest. One of whom is my dad.
To My Dad, My Hero
You give it all, although there is so much to bear.
You search beneath the rubble and the sights you encounter, others wouldn’t dare.
You are a picture of strength to all, not just to me.
But when you look in the mirror, I know that is not what you see.
I’ve wondered where you are these past few nights. Especially in the wind and the cold,
Yet even through the chill and darkness, I know you’ll never fold.
I think about how wonderful it is to have a Dad as compassionate as you,
One who goes the distance, always, through and through.
I know it is selfish of me, you see
I wish you were home with Mom and me.
Be strong; hold your head up,
Know when you come home, our flag will be flying high.
For those who have lost their lives,
And for those who were ready and willing to die.
“Before the collapse, I remember a police officer jumping on top of me. He saved my life, and I never saw him again.”
—AN OFFICE WORKER FROM THE 80TH FLOOR WHO HAD ALMOST MADE IT TO THE BOTTOM OF ONE WORLD TRADE CENTER, Newsday 9/13/2001
FROM AN AOL POST, 9/15/2001 12:24 AM EDT
SUBJECT: INSPIRED MILITARY OFFICER
As an active duty Army pilot, I am inspired by the heroism of all the brave men and women on the planes, in the buildings, and in the rescue efforts since this terrible event took place on September 11, 2001.
For twelve years of service, I have asked myself what circumstances would allow me to face death without even a second of hesitation while carrying out my mission. The passengers of the downed aircraft in Pennsylvania recognized their fate and took action. I only hope when death greets me, that I will face it with such dignity and bravery.
This demonstration of courage has given me a reason to continue to serve my country. I have never been so proud of my country or my fellow citizens.
FROM AN AOL POST, 9/15/2001 12:54 AM EDT
SUBJECT: THE MANY UNSUNG HEROES
I am writing this as I have just returned from the World Trade Center site, spending the last four days searching the rubble in the hopes of finding some sign of life, of hope, of ANYTHING. I am a firefighter and emergency medical technician, and even though I am ONLY a volunteer, I believe that helping others is my moral and civic duty.
However, while searching through the rubble, I realized that America has its values a little backwards. We pay millions of dollars to athletes just because they have that “special skill” of running after a ball, or hitting one. While they earn the millions, we—professional firefighters and EMS personnel—make barely enough to live off, but you won’t hear us complain.
I think that EMS personnel should make a little more than they currently do because, day in and day out, we respond to emergencies, never knowing just what to expect, and not worrying about it, because it’s our job. We go to situations that most people are running from, while we are running directly into it, “just because we want to help.”
FROM AN AOL POST, 9/21/2001 10:16 AM EDT
SUBJECT: TRIBUTE TO NYC: YOU ANSWERED YOUR LAST CALL
(Dedicated to the brave NYC firefighters who gave their lives in the line of duty September 11, 2001 at the World Trade disaster)
I remember the alarm on that fateful day,
As we responded in haste, to be carried away.
With sirens screaming our advancing pace,
We answered the call by taking our place.
We have answered this call many times before,
You see it’s our job, we expect no less, no more.
We know the danger that comes with the quest,
But we answered that call, by doing our best.
We are armed with the weapons of life-saving gear,
The voices of so many, calling us near.
Then we arrived at this god-awful sight,
The towers ablaze, no time for fear, just fight.
This was an act of evil, so many souls could be lost,
We must strive to save as many, at whatever the cost.
Into the lobby, and then down the hall,
I rush up the steps, to answer the call.
My heart is now pounding, the sweat pours down my face,
But I keep moving at a life-saving pace.
Shouting out orders as I continue my quest,
“GET DOWN, KEEP MOVING!” I shout,
“PLEASE GOD! HELP ME!” I’m doing my best.
Then all at once I hear a thunderous roar from above,
My life flashes before me, images of those whom I love.
Then out of nowhere I am led by the hand,
by this unknown person, who is this man?
He carried me out of this inferno from hell,
As he lifted my soul, just when everything fell.
Now I am at peace, just comfort, no pain,
Who is this man who offered his hand when my tears fell like rain?
I now stand before this bright heavenly light,
To raise my head and ask, who came to my plight?
Then I hear a voice speak from above as my eyes roam,
“My Son, do not fear, for he has taken you home.
“He’s just like you, you see.
He answered my call.
He was just doing his job, giving his all.
His boots and his helmet were supplied from above,
And his power and strength came from those that you love.
You see, even up here when the alarm bell rings,
They answer your call, these firefighters with wings.
He carried you away from that horrible place,
when you cried out to ME, for my love and my grace.
“Your mission is over, my Son,
You answered your last call.
You saved so many lives, walk tall and be proud.
My Son, take my hand and walk into the light,
And dwell with me forever in GOD’S heavenly might.”
“The truly fearless think of themselves as normal.”
—MARGARET ATWOOD, “THE WHIRLPOOL RAPIDS”
FROM AN AOL POST, 9/15/2001 8:12 PM EDT
SUBJECT: RE: FATHER MYCHAL JUDGE
I cannot tell you what a loss for you that you didn’t have the pleasure of knowing or meeting Father Judge. Unfortunately, my interaction with him was under awful circumstances.
He was friends with my father, who endured two terrible illnesses, the second resulting in his death. During both times of illness, Father Judge came to visit with my dad in the hospital. My father was a wonderful singer, with a great love of music, and Father would come to sing to him, to lift his spirits, to let my dad know that he was loved.
The very first time I met Father Judge was outside an elevator in the hospital. He had never seen me before, and upon learning my identity, he immediately placed his big hand on my head and prayed for me, my father, and my family. He then gave my mother and me gold Celtic crosses to pin to our lapels. I still have them.
Throughout the entire time Dad was sick, he was there for Dad. And us. Dad and he visited. He would call to see how Dad was doing, and later, after his death, to see how my mom was doing.
And when my father (a retired fire marshal for the City of New York and member of the FDNY Emerald Society Pipes and Drums) passed away, I called Father Judge and told him we would love it if he would deliver the mass. He told me he would be honored.
Father Judge delivered an incredibly beautiful eulogy about the most important man in my life, and it was personal. It was filled with stories of who my dad was and what he meant to Father Judge and all of us. And it was sincere.
I know that my story is not unusual. It is one of many. He was a fine example of what a human being should be, and New York, along with the rest of the world, has suffered a major loss.
“We were there about 14 hours straight, battling smoke in the dark. But the most frustrating thing was we had to keep dropping our gear and running for our lives when we wanted to stay and save other lives.”
—ANDREA KAISER, A FIREFIGHTER AT THE PENTAGON, The New York Times 9/14/2001
FROM AN AOL POST, 9/24/2001 6:04 PM EDT
SUBJECT: HEROES ARE EVERYWHERE
I consider my son a hero. What makes him and a lot of his friends heroes is that in just a couple of days they organized an event that took place on Sunday the 16th—a battle of the bands–type of get-together—and made $33,000 for the victims!
There are people all across the country doing things like this, and they are all heroes—they are at the very foundation of what makes this such a great country.
FROM AN AOL POST, 9/23/2001 11:37 PM EDT
SUBJECT: WHAT ABOUT THE IRON WORKERS
My husband is a NY firefighter. His firehouse made a sign:
NYPD FDNY
IRON WORKERS
WILL OF STEEL UNITE TOGETHER.
It’s hanging on the American Express Building.
Any firefighter you talk to will tell you: If it wasn’t for the steel workers, no bodies would be found . . .
“People came out and made signs and are cheering the rescue workers on. Every time a vehicle passes—fire, police, even Con Ed—people yell out, ‘You are our heroes.’”
—MAN ON THE WEST SIDE HIGHWAY, Salon.com 9/13/2001
FROM AN AOL POST, 9/17/2001 5:44 PM EDT
SUBJECT: MY BROTHER, ORDINARY HERO
There were many heroes that day. The firemen, police, and EMTs are rightly heralded for their acts of bravery.
But there were thousands of other heroes in the streets of NYC on Sept. 11.
The fact that so many lived is a testimony of the strength and courage of New Yorkers. There was not one lick of mob mentality on the streets. I was there, under WTC 5. Everyone was upset, nervous, but we moved in an orderly fashion without direction. No one trampled another or said “me first.”
My brother helped two older co-workers to escape the carnage. He could have made a much speedier escape if he had left them behind, but as he says, that was not an option.
Our mayor, Rudy Giuliani, is the personification of the spirit of NYC. The country heralds his actions, but I saw thousands of ordinary New Yorkers act in heroic fashion as we ran for our lives through the streets of the city we love.
“I was on crutches, and I couldn’t get down the stairs. A co-worker I barely knew carried me all the way down to the EMT guys outside.”
—A WOMAN WHO WORKED ON THE 64TH FLOOR OF TOWER 2, The New York Times 9/12/2001
FROM AN AOL POST, 9/18/2001 2:37 AM EDT
SUBJECT: THEY KNEW THEY WERE GOING TO DIE
Risking their lives for others was something they had already come to grips with . . . these firefighters bravely climbed farther and farther away from the line of safety. Many knew they were going to die if they stayed—but they did stay.
These are true heroes to the city that employed them; to the department that trained them; to the men who fathered them; to the women who mothered them; to the wives who were a part of them; to the children who loved them.
To the ones who gave their lives so that others may live—thank you.
FROM AN AOL POST, 9/16/2001 9:30 PM EDT
SUBJECT: UNSUNG HEROES
The firefighters, police officers or EMS workers who perished on Sept. 11, 2001 were NOT heroes that day.
They became heroes the day they first put on a uniform and decided to dedicate their lives to serving the public.
Each one knew the risks involved with this line of work and did not assume this calling for glory or recognition, but simply for the sake of knowing that he might be able to help a fellow human being.
It’s too bad that it takes a tragedy for these most honorable men and women to be recognized for their heroism, when it is nothing short of heroic for them to arrive at work each day.
I hope that every time you pass a police station, fire department, ambulance, or hospital, you say a silent prayer of thanks to all who work within. Someday, one of these dedicated professionals may risk his life to save yours.
FROM AN AOL POST, 9/16/2001 6:09 PM EDT
SUBJECT: OTHERS WHO SHOWED GREAT HEROISM
I am a NYC police officer who is lucky enough to have survived two collapses while trying to help others who had difficulty helping themselves. In addition to all of the firefighters, police, and EMS who assisted in the evacuation of 1 WTC, I would also like to pay tribute to all of the others who were heavily involved who put their necks on the line. These include the following:
WTC security officers
Military personnel
FBI personnel
State police
Various other federal and state law enforcement personnel
With special acknowledgment for those ordinary working people who showed enormous tenacity and heroism in assisting their fellow citizens in the midst of an unimaginable horror.
No words could possibly describe what it was like in there that day. It was an honor to have been by your side.
“I know we’re all going to die; there’s three of us who are going to do something about it.”
—THOMAS BURNETT, ON A CELL PHONE TO HIS WIFE JUST BEFORE HIS PLANE WENT DOWN OUTSIDE OF PITTSBURGH, Newsday 9/13/2001
FROM AN AOL POST, 9/20/2001 10:10 AM EDT
SUBJECT: LET’S ROLL
I don’t know the name of the young man who spoke to a telephone operator before he and some other passengers decided to try to overpower the hijackers. But I did see on TV that his wife said that just before they made the move to take over, the phone operator heard him say “Let’s roll!” His wife said this was a quote the young father used quite often at home when he wanted to get the family moving.
I think the cry of “Let’s roll” should be the battle cry of our war on terrorism, just like “Remember the Alamo” was to the Texans!
FROM AN AOL POST, 9/19/2001 10:19 AM EDT
SUBJECT: THANK YOU FOR THE FIRST OF THIS WAR’S HEROES
Thank you for resisting. Thank you for calling home and calling out so we may know some of what was happening up there in the skies.
Thank you for making us all PROUD. This can’t help your families since they are without you, but thank you for showing us all the thoughts we should have. Not to just let them win. But if we are to die, we die on OUR terms, NOT theirs.
FROM AN AOL POST, 9/16/2001 3:22 PM EDT
SUBJECT: ACCIDENTAL HEROES
I am so impressed and proud of the goodness and bravery of those men (and women) on the plane that crashed in Pennsylvania. Wow! In the span of 30 to 45 minutes, with knowledge of what had happened to the WTC from cell phone conversations, they formed a team and decided to take their chances by acting to disrupt the hijackers, who certainly were headed for the White House or Capitol.
They did it for their country and to save other lives. They did that knowing they were going to die. They acted for what was right, in the face of what must have been their abject terror. The fact that they could act in that way is an example to me of the grace of God and the heroism that lies deeply within all of us.
There was also something peculiarly American to me about that act or maybe it was just the last words of one of those accidental heroes who said something like “Ready guys? Let’s roll.”
But we’d be kidding ourselves if we didn’t acknowledge that the propensity to act for evil is in all of us as well. It’s up to us to choose which path we’ll take; those choices often present a very slippery slope.
My heart goes out to the families of these heroes. I’m sure you knew of their goodness and bravery. Now the whole country does and unites to thank these extraordinary patriots.
FROM AN AOL POST, 9/15/2001 8:37 PM EDT
SUBJECT: THE NEXT VICTIMS AND HEROES THAT ARE BEING FORGOTTEN
I am a female soldier in the US Army. I have to say—not out of selfishness for myself, but as a member of the greatest military in the world—that I am amazed that we have all pulled together as one during this, civilians and military alike.
However, I believe that civilians are forgetting what lies ahead: a war that will probably involve biological warfare and the loss of many, many lives. The military are about to become the next victims, and heroes, as well.
As a soldier, I am fearful. I think I can speak for most military members when I say that we are all scared. Most of us have been taught to be strong and never show weakness, but in us all is a fear of the unknown. We really have no idea what exactly we are up against.
I myself do not fear dying for something I believe in: the freedom of the United States. But in talking with other soldiers I have realized that as they prepare for war, their mothers, fathers, sisters, brothers, friends, and relatives are grieving for the possible loss of their loved ones in the same way that the victims of the WTC and Pentagon are.
As you all slowly begin to pick up the pieces of your lives, please don’t forget that other families are not so lucky. The fear will be in them until this is resolved and our soldiers are brought home. It takes a strong parent to send one’s own off to fight a war and risk their lives, and a stronger parent to support the effort their children are giving.
I fear that our guys will be overlooked by the majority of the population, as are the guys in Kosovo and Bosnia. I urge all of you to remember and pray, on a daily basis, for the military and their families until each and every one returns home, be it as a victim or hero—don’t let them be forgotten over time. We all need your support and prayers now.
FROM AN AOL POST, 9/15/2001 10:10 PM EDT
SUBJECT: RUNNING FOR HIS LIFE BUT STOPPED TO HELP
This is a short tale of Ed Cooke, an electrician who was on the 52nd floor of the second tower to be hit. The plane slammed into the 80th floor above him. He and his buddy started running to the stairs and down as fast as they could.
Ed stopped to help an older guy who was having difficulty going down the stairs. Ed stayed with him, watching firefighters pass them heading upwards; he got the guy a shot of oxygen and made sure he rested every ten floors or so until he got his breath back.
Both Ed and this man made it out just minutes before the building collapsed. These are unsung heroes, with their deeds going unnoticed, and watched only by God.
“The bravest are the tenderest
The loving are the daring”
—BAYARD TAYLOR, “SONG OF THE CAMP”
FROM AN AOL POST, 9/15/2001 10:13 PM EDT
SUBJECT: LADDER CO. 8, 1ST UNIT AT WTC
They were responding to a reported gas leak, and were testing at a sewer. There was a French cameraman with them, looking for footage of a fire, as he had been all week. Suddenly a jet flew over, very low. They all looked up, as the Frenchman continued to roll tape. Watching in horror and awe, Ladder Co. 8 (from the Tribeca section of New York City) saw the jet fly into the WTC.
This is the real story behind the only video of the first crash.
My nephew—my hero—and his company did not have to wait to be dispatched.
They were in full gear and the rig was running. They were first to arrive at the crash site and immediately went into the building.
I was just waking up and having my coffee when I turned the TV on. (I’m a NYC subway train engineer, and Tuesday was my day off.) I was shocked, and immediately worried about my nephew, who lives in an apartment in my house. He was 25 years old, a volunteer fireman for two years already; he’d only been out of the fire academy for 2 months, following in the footsteps of his deceased father, a decorated firefighter.
I watched as the phone rang. My sister called from Manhattan to make sure that her son wasn’t working. I couldn’t lie to her. Then WTC 2 went down. I could not believe that after withstanding the impact of the plane, it still went down.
Shortly after that, my sister called again. Thankfully, Jim called her and said, “Mom, I’m okay, I’m on the 30th floor of WTC 1.”
Fifteen minutes later, the second WTC building, #1, went down. For an hour and 45 minutes, we waited and watched this nightmare unfold. Then my sister called—she saw Jim on NBC news, and he was ALIVE!
Thursday night he came home for a little while and we talked. They never got the order to get out, but they sensed that it was time to go; the other building, the second one to get hit, had gone down what seemed like a long time ago. He ran down the stairs and reached the exit as the building came down around him. The fireman behind him received burns to the back of his neck. The firefighters behind him did not make it out.
This is the story of my nephew, the NYC hero firefighter.
FROM AN AOL POST, 9/16/2001 12:00 AM EDT
SUBJECT: THE REAL HEROES
I am a New Jersey police officer who spent many long hours at “Ground Zero” with a shovel looking for anyone who may have survived. The scene was so horrific that I could only describe it to my wife as a peek at the end of the world. But I believe that there are some real heroes who need to be recognized:
There was a teenage girl from the Red Cross who was there when I got there and was still there when I was leaving. She was handing out food, coffee, etc., and cleaning up after the exhausted workers who were going back to the rubble. This young lady and her fellow volunteers are true heroes. They exemplify the spirit of America: the readiness to help others despite the toll it takes on them.
I thank all of those dedicated, caring people who helped keep everyone going in this monumental effort. God bless you all.
FROM AN AOL POST, 9/17/2001 8:39 AM EDT
SUBJECT: RESCUE DOGS
Please remember that these rescue dogs are our heroes as well. Sadly, one of the Coast Guard’s search dogs perished last night due to heat exhaustion. The animals work tirelessly and to the point of exhaustion. One rescuer was interviewed last night on TV. At his side was his exhausted dog, laying on its side, completely worn out. These animals do all this hard work out of their undying love for humans.
They are walking on very hot rubble and steel sharp enough to cut their feet. They do not stop and sit down when they get tired—they keep going as well.
On television they just showed live pictures from the WTC disaster site. Two rescuers were bringing their search dogs into the rubble, and one fireman turned from what he was doing and patted each dog as it went by, to show his appreciation of the hard work they are doing.
Don’t forget our four-legged heroes!
FROM AN AOL POST, 9/23/2001 7:42 PM EDT
SUBJECT: WHAT THEY REDEFINED . . .
When I used to ask my little sister who her hero was, she’d say (with all the enthusiasm she could muster in her tiny body) “SpongeBob Square Pants”—a child cartoon character.
Across the schools of America you could have walked into any fourth-grade classroom and asked that question. I guarantee you would have heard something along the lines of “Pokemon” or “Powerpuff Girls”—but not today.
These men and woman have redefined the term “hero”; they have placed it back into that special category opposite “saint” and “angel.” Their courage and humanity have opened our eyes to what a real hero should be.
When your little sister can look at you and say “Those men are my heroes,” then you know something special, something truly amazing has managed to reach in and touch all of America’s hearts. Those men and woman who are still digging through the rubble, who haven’t slept, who continue to work day in and day out for people they’ve never met are the true heroes of today.
I want to say thank you and God bless.
FROM AN AOL POST, 9/20/2001 2:29 AM EDT
SUBJECT: TRIBUTE
As a firefighter in NYC for 38 years—now retired, but with a son and son-in-law now in the front lines—I think these words of Rudyard Kipling really express the brotherhood that is theirs, and was mine:
“I have eaten your bread and your salt, I have drunk your water and wine,
The deaths you died I have watched beside, and the lives you lived were mine”
In memory and gratitude for the years with some of the bravest, most compassionate men on earth . . .
FROM AN AOL POST, 9/14/2001 9:37 PM EDT
SUBJECT: BEING A HERO’S LITTLE GIRL
Eight years ago I was faced with a tragedy I thought for sure I would never see again. My father, a fireman, was at the first WTC bombing doing what he loved, saving peoples lives. He came home about 20 pounds lighter but in one piece.
On Tuesday morning it started all over. My father—still a fireman—and my brother, an EMT, were some of the first on the scene.
Daddy pulled a woman out of a burning car, turned around to his truck, and the WTC fell on his head. I am a lucky one. He is alive, and will heal.
My father fought in war, saved a man from an explosion some 30 years ago (suffering severe burns), and did countless other heroic things just by being a fireman. My father will take a long time to heal, but he has no plans of retirement.
I am my father’s princess, and he will always be my hero—now he is yours, too.
FROM AN AOL POST, 9/14/2001 10:55 PM EDT
SUBJECT: RE: BEING A HERO’S LITTLE GIRL
You are so lucky to be blessed with such a father. And he to have such a gracious daughter.
I remember one of my daughter’s classmates asking her close friend, “Why would your father want to be a firefighter? What money is there in that?”
I’ve always wished I could have been there to answer that silly boy.
Being a hero is a greater reward than any money could bring. You get to save a life, maybe many lives.
There is an Indian saying that goes something like, when you save a life, you become responsible for that life, or something to that effect. This is joy, this is bliss. To look in another’s eyes and see life, a life you have been instrumental in preserving, must be tantamount to reaching out and touching the face of God.
This service and sacrifice raises us and those around us up to the clouds. Of course, there are those who would argue it is human nature to be selfish. But I have heard it said that nature is what we are put here to rise above. And I truly believe this of your father.
God Bless him and those like him.
“Courage is the ladder on which all the other virtues mount.”
—CLARE BOOTH LUCE, Reader’s Digest, 1979