by Ken Giustino
There are few moments in time that you will absolutely remember where you were. If you were old enough when John F. Kennedy was assassinated, you’ll remember: I was in third grade. When the news broke, they brought the whole school a block away to the Saint Benedict Church, told us what had happened, and then sent us home.
On September 11, 2001, I was in my Westchester office. It was a sunny, clear Tuesday morning. Hearing a news flash about a plane hitting one of the twin towers in NYC, I turned on my TV and watched in real time as the horror unfolded. When the second plane struck the other tower, we knew we were under attack.
Shortly after that, a plane hit the Pentagon. At that moment, I realized there could be many planes with hijackers synchronized to unleash their evil. Then Flight 93 went down, and I knew we were starting to fight back. Later, I learned that Tom Burnett, Mark Bigen, and other passengers tried to take the plane back from the hijackers. They gave their lives so other Americans could live. The government reacted swiftly by immediately grounding all flights, which I believe foiled additional acts of terrorism that were in progress.
The next day I went to see for myself what was going on. It was eerie as I drove down West Side Drive; I was the only car because it was closed to all traffic except emergency vehicles and the press. However, traffic leaving the city was bumper-to-bumper.
I parked the car on 12th Ave., where I sometimes park to check out the music on Bleecker Street. South of Bleecker, police blockades allowed through only residents, rescue workers, and journalists. As I walked South, I think it was about 18 blocks to reach Ground Zero; everything was covered in gray soot. Each block I walked was more desolate, and my footprints started leaving deeper and deeper impressions that reminded me of a moon walk. It truly looked like a bombed-out city, with cars, ambulances, and fire trucks parked along the road that were crushed by the towers the day before or pulled out from Ground Zero earlier that day. Fresh flowers were placed on the fire trucks- already mourning our heroes. An older woman was just standing on a corner, and it looked like she was in shock. I asked her if I could help her, and she just said, “God bless you”, and moved on.
Two blocks from Ground Zero, only rescuers were allowed to pass. When the wind shifted, you could see the collapsed buildings, but when it blew the other way, they would disappear in the billowing smoke. Even with the respirator and goggles, I could smell the smoke from the pile of rubble that still had fires deep below the ground.
In the air, there was an overwhelming feeling of loss and disappointment, yet at the same time, each person reached deep into their souls for the necessary strength needed to aid fellow Americans. The faces of some of the firefighters coming off the pile of debris told me Ground Zero could make a strong man cry, or a peaceful man hate. One firefighter walked past me covered with dust. He stood about six-foot-three, and the expression on his face told me he had just visited hell, and that if he had the chance, he could crush those responsible with his bare hands.
Our country came together and honored all of the heroes who selflessly stepped up to help their fellow Americans without concern for their own well-being. Each September 11th, we continue to honor the heroes and remember all of those lost on that day in 2001.
September 11, 2001 sounds so long ago, yet for those of us who lived through it, lost friends and loved ones, or were part of the response, search, rescue, and clean-up efforts that went on endlessly, it feels a bit like yesterday.
This is part of my article from the October 2001 issue of The Montauk Sun:
I spoke to Charles Mancuso, an ironworker who had watched the news on Tuesday night from his Yonkers, New York home, and went to Ground Zero Wednesday morning. He said that the debris extended almost 2 blocks from where the towers stood, and it was like a battle zone. He was working in the area near the pedestrian crossing and assisted with the rescue of two firefighters who got trapped in one of the pockets while they were searching for victims. The cheers of the rescuers, which arose as the two firefighters were liberated from the rubble, were just too great for Charles to put into words. Retired iron workers who had worked on the construction of the towers 30 years earlier were also there helping.
I also had a chance to speak to Dale, a police officer from Illinois. His partners were Joe Palfrey and Miranda, an 11 1/2-year-old canine search dog. They had driven straight through the night and went to work immediately; they looked like they had been to war. The only thing Dale had to say was, “We should find out who did it and pay them back.” Then he sat down on the sidewalk next to the building behind the fence [in the photo] and said, “We’re going to take a little rest.” I thanked him for coming to help New York.
As I walked back to my car, through the barren streets north of Ground Zero, I felt great sorrow for the victims and the rescuers. This was truly an evil act. There could be no justification for this crime. I could only hope the people involved in this attack would be brought to justice swiftly. There is no turning back. They’ve changed the world forever.
When I returned home, I turned on the news. The camera panned past Miranda, Dale, and Joe sleeping on the sidewalk where I left them some two hours before. They were there getting a little rest less than 1000 feet from where they would be returning to their search. I can only respect and honor all these volunteers who gave of themselves. They are truly heroes.
As we reflect on 25 years, few, if any, of us will ever forget where we were the moment we heard the news of the attacks. For all, it was a life-changing event. Yet for many, their personal lives would never be the same due to the loss of one or multiple loved ones. Each year, as the list of names is read during the remembrance ceremony in NYC, we think of the affected families and all of the lost souls, as well as the souls of our soldiers who carried the fight back to the attackers and have given their lives, including so many who returned home with injuries.
Now, 25 years later, we are still dealing with first responders and volunteers fighting and/or losing battles with illnesses that are attributed to the debris from the towers. First responders have such important roles in our society- let’s never forget to be thankful for all who put their lives on the line for us- our Heroes: Military, Police, Firefighters, EMS, Nurses and Doctors, and even the random person who jumps in when someone needs assistance.
As we reflect this year, remember all of those we lost and their loved ones, and let’s also find a way to support the men and women who stand up to protect us all.
