I have wanted to write about my experience in New York City on September 11, 2001 for a long time. I haven’t done so, because I feel there is no way I can do justice to the intense emotion of that time. And while the day was the most terrifying I have ever known, and ever hope to know, the fact is that I was never in any danger, nor were any of my family or friends. Although while it was happening I did not know that.
Because I find it impossible to describe the horror of September 11th, I would like to honor the third anniversary by recounting the small levels of heroism I observed during that unprecedented time. I was always proud to live in New York and regard myself as a New Yorker despite never having met the prerequisite of a ten-year residency. I was never more proud of or impressed by my fellow New Yorkers than I was on September 11th.
New Yorkers have a reputation for being harsh, demanding, and cold, but you know from television accounts how the city pulled together. You know that there were lines out the door at the blood banks and they had to turn most of us away. You know that nobody took advantage of the fact that the city’s bravest and finest police and firemen were focused downtown, leaving only a skeleton crew – and an exhausted and grieving one at that – to oversee the rest of the city. You know that only a very few misguided souls tried to take out their anger and grief on innocent Muslims. You already know that my humble tales are just a few of hundreds of thousands.
You probably heard that New York City, the most aggressive and pushy society in the
United States if not the world, was completely silent for weeks following September 11th. A city normally filled with the constant background noise of honking and yelling remained respectfully hushed. Suddenly the ambulance sirens that used to be a part of that white noise stood out shrilly in the silence.
But you may not know that local news channels would regularly announce the needs of various shelters and relief organizations for things such as heavy wool socks for the firemen slogging their way through water and muck to find their fallen brothers. An hour later a new message would run across the television screen: “Over 100 boxes of socks have been received in response to our request. Please do not bring any more.” Over and over, for days, this would happen. New Yorkers remained plastered to the local news just as you were, and the moment they learned of a need, they could not move quickly enough to fill it.
What you probably never heard about was the group of dust-covered, exhausted firemen who sank to the grungy floor of a Penn Station platform to await their train home after spending hours, perhaps days, at Ground Zero. Perhaps you, too, would have burst into tears as, gradually, up and down the long platform on both sides, fellow travelers rose to their feet, turned towards the group of weary firemen, and broke into applause and cheers. I wish you, too, had seen the looks of surprise, and then gratitude, spread across those soot-streaked faces.
And you definitely don’t know about the lovely Muslim man who ran the deli on the corner of my block, on 90th Street and 1st Avenue. I went to the deli the afternoon of September 11th to stock up on food, batteries, water – all the things it seemed necessary to buy, but which could never alleviate the feeling of raw vulnerability. A man was struggling with the ATM in the deli. Since most New Yorkers had gone directly to their ATMs to withdraw as much cash as possible for whatever emergencies might lie ahead, the city had been drained of cash in a matter of hours. “The ATM is out of money,” explained the gentleman behind the counter. “But if there is anything you need, please, take it.”
The written word – mine or anybody else’s – cannot do justice to what happened on September 11th. But I hope it can at least touch upon the unprecedented heroism of this country and that day, and remind us of how a vast city dropped all pride and prejudice and offered services, unity, comfort and trust in a time of unthinkable and unprecedented horror that changed forever that remarkable city and our entire world. Here’s to you, New York.
