We Remember

I was getting ready for work when they hit the first tower, then the second tower came down. It was a very sad day in America.

I was in Ukraine. Virtually everyone was shocked and horrified at the news.

My story begins on the morning of September 11, 2001. I was just waking up when I had a premonition that today was going to be a very bad day. I urged my mom to let me stay home to be with my family, and I witnessed the attacks unfold. I salute all the firefighters, the police department, and the Port Authority. I support and honor all the people who showed courage and all the people who perished in the towers and in the surrounding areas.

The pain! The agony! The torment! The heartbreak! It was a day that will and should never have happened. It was a terrible day that ruined many lives. Yet it was also a day that showed humanity at its best. When horrible things happen, America does its best to help out and pull together. Even though so many lives were lost, America tried to help and save those who needed it.

After 9/11 took place, I took a road trip down there and passed by the scene. It was heart-wrenching. I will never forget 9/11. So many souls were taken on that day. I pray they’re all resting in peace.

During 9/11, I was in class, and the principal talked on the speaker and told all the classes to turn the TV on. That’s when we knew that the Twin Towers were hit by planes.

I lived in Pittsburgh, PA when this tragedy occurred. It was unbelievably sad, especially for anyone living in another city and simply having to depend on news reports.

9/11 was one of the scariest days of my life. I was cleaning house and watching TV when breaking news came over the show. I started to cry. I called family and friends to make sure everyone was okay and to make sure what I was seeing was real.

Living in Minnesota, I first heard about the World Trade Centers coming down on TV. That day will forever be etched in my mind. I was so proud of my country because of the way the population joined together to pray for peace. It didn’t matter which political affiliation, we all acted together. President Bush was a warrior and great leader! God bless this country.

I witnessed 9/11 happen and saw the Pentagon attack unfold. As a child, I witnessed the full devastation before and after. The repeated terrorism that followed was troubling. I believe there is still justice that needs to be done for the 9/11 victims because they haven’t received full justice. Terrorists are still out there, and accountability is needed.

I was driving to work and listening to the news when the first plane hit the towers. Once at work, I, as a community social worker, began many days of shock and grief while counseling citizens of the local area where I worked. An experience never to be forgotten.

My father’s office was at 223 Broadway, the former F.W. Woolworth building. His office window on the 32nd floor overlooked the Brooklyn Bridge. After the first tragedy in the garage of the Twin Towers in 1993, I believe, the F.W. Woolworth Company began planning and made preparations in case it ever happened again and it did. My father was long retired and had passed away. However, not one pane of glass shattered in the building across from the towers because every glass window had been replaced and all security in the building had been upgraded and changed. Never would anyone be allowed on upper floors again.

I was glad my dad was not here anymore to see what happened on 9/11. I myself was at home recovering from surgery and watched TV in horror with the rest of the world. The Woolworth Corporation was an unbelievable company.

After 9/11, it was heartbreaking watching it unfold. I decided to reach out to someone who lost a loved one on Flight 93, Deena. We chatted online and I got a book signed by her, which I’m keeping forever. I feel connected to that flight and her story.

I remember the moment in time on 9/11 when the towers were hit, and I stopped, like many Americans, from what they were doing to rush to the television to see the devastation and horror unfolding upon our country. In that moment, we as a divided nation, in many things, came together and mourned what was taking place before our eyes. Every walk of life was covered in ashes, disregarding color. It didn’t matter on 9/11, and going forward, it still shouldn’t matter where we come from. If a fellow brother or sister has fallen in our families, churches, towns, cities, states, or the United States, we should be there united to pick up our fallen. But instead, we turn a blind eye.

This country our forefathers built was founded on a God-fearing constitution, which is rarely talked about except maybe in history class. A lot has happened in this world in a short amount of time. I don’t know how I got here, but I was not personally in New York when the planes hit. But my God was, and so were my prayers. I’d like to help in any way possible to help others going forward, whether it be volunteering, listening, or giving advice to help empower others.

I had just turned 16 and was starting my sophomore year at Stella Maris High School in Rockaway. During first period, we heard the announcement about the twin towers being hit. We could see the smoke from our high school in Rockaway, that’s an image I’ll never forget. I could also smell the fire from my home in Brooklyn.

After seeing the destruction of the Twin Towers on 9/11, I knew, as a firefighter, where all firefighters were when the buildings collapsed. I was deeply touched by the loss of so many fellow firefighters at one time. I built the 9/11 Firefighter Memorial Motorcycle that I travel with to “Never Forget” the sacrifices of that day. The dash of the motorcycle displays the names of the 343 firefighters killed on 9/11, and their legacy travels with me at shows and memorial events.

I lived through the entire day and will never forget a single detail.

Here’s a story about the Spirit of America Foundation, a 501(c)(3) in Washington state that built a memorial in Cashmere, WA with steel from the WTC and stone from the Pentagon. This is one of a kind because in order for it to be completed, you must be part of it. Get the book that tells this amazing story. It’s called All Roads Lead to Cashmere.

I started working at 2WTC, 74th floor, on 2/26/1993, the day of the WTC truck bombing, and spent 11 hours at WTC on 9/11 before being evacuated by boat. I knew several people who were killed in the attacks and others who were killed in action in Afghanistan and Iraq. I would like to share my own and their stories.

Two weeks before 9/11, I was an AmeriCorps intern with the Springfield, Missouri Red Cross, learning disaster relief the practical way: stay steady, organise quickly, show up for people on the worst day of their lives. Then my own home caught fire. I knew the protocols, but I couldn’t respond to my own emergency. I watched smoke and heat take over and realised how fast “normal” can disappear. Losing possessions wasn’t just a shopping list; it was the quiet evidence of my life, gone in hours. Overnight, I went from responder to someone who needed help, and any distance between “us” and “them” vanished.

When 9/11 happened, the world split into before and after. It wasn’t only a crisis; it was a rupture that changed what felt safe. That shock landed on top of my own raw loss, and it grounded me. At Christmas, I volunteered in New York City. The city should have been all lights and noise, but that year it carried grief and resolve in equal measure. I worked in mass care and casework, the unglamorous, essential work that helps people stabilize: food, shelter, paperwork, follow-up, the details that decide whether recovery is possible.

Some people were too unwell to come to Red Cross service centres, so I visited them. Those home visits stayed with me. Trauma doesn’t fit neatly into forms; you see it in living rooms, in exhaustion, in the way someone tries to hold on to dignity. I met guards in their homes, including one with a badly burnt hand, and helped cover living expenses. It wasn’t charity. It was solidarity. That work earned me the 2002 SMSU Student Talent and Recognition (STAR) Award for Individual Humanitarian Service. In the aftermath, I met English people who widened my world. I later studied abroad, met my husband, and eventually built a life in the UK. 9/11 changed my life in infinite ways, but it gave me a lasting foundation: crisis can happen to anyone, and the most meaningful work is often the quiet work:listening, following through, and helping someone take the next step.

I was working on a Corporate Convention where my company supplied equipment like video projectors, screens, TV cameras, graphics, and machines for video playback. The client was a major copier company, and this was the first stop of a 5-state tour. The convention was at the Javits Center in downtown New York City, about 2 miles away from Ground Zero. We had set up all the gear already and just sat down for rehearsals at 9 a.m. That’s when the show caller said on headsets that there was a report of a small plane hitting the World Trade Tower, and he went to check it out. When he came back on, he said we should all go and look
Walking out to the lobby on the second floor of the Javits, which was all glass, I could see the top of the two Trade Towers and a hole in one of the buildings with smoke coming out of it. We were then told to evacuate the Javits Center for fear that this building was a target as well. All traffic was stopped in the street. As I walked across the street, I looked over the entrance to the Lincoln Tunnel and saw it was blocked with buses to prevent anyone from leaving or coming into Manhattan; they basically closed down the island.

Then about 20 minutes later, people were running down the street covered in soot, fleeing from the collapsing buildings. I noticed a man giving water to people stuck in cars because traffic had all been halted. That evening, the streets were empty, it was the only time I have ever seen no traffic in Manhattan. The streets were completely empty that night. So we made our way to a pub on the street and watched it on TV. Then we decided we should walk down there to see if we could help. Along the way, I took pictures. When we got to Little Italy, the roads were blocked by police and they would not let us proceed further. I have to say I was having trouble breathing the air. Then we were told the Javits Center was going to be used as a morgue. We had to move our gear out, and the next day we had to drive back to Florida.