Twenty years ago I was heading for my job at the city’s social services headquarters in lower Manhattan. A typical morning. As I got closer to the office I started to hear sirens and listening to the radio heard about a small plane having hit the World Trade Center. At that point it sounded more strange than tragic. I got my usual spot on Pearl Street and got out of my car at 9:03. How can I be so sure of the precise time? Because at that instant I heard a huge explosion and even more memorably, felt a heat so tremendous that I ducked behind the open car door. I was five blocks from the World Trade Center and the second plane had just hit the South Tower. Now it began to be clear that this was going to be a horrific day.
I spent the next hour making sure the office tower I worked in was clear of people and then answering questions from city employees about whether they had permission to leave. The enormity of the day was not quite upon us and rumors about other planes and attacks were flying. While we never received official instructions to leave, we eventually started to do so just before 10. Then at 9:59 a huge cloud of dust and debris came at us from the street behind punctuated by screams from people all over the area. The South Tower fell and we were covered in the white dust I am sure you have seen pictured.
Everything felt different now and we knew we had to leave the area, We continued to walk but one of my colleagues who was with me was having trouble breathing and walking and I knew she would not make it far on foot. I decided to get my car and attempt to drive. The car too was covered in dust but it started and as I prepared for the drive I got flagged down almost immediately by a man completely shrouded in the South Tower’s dust. I could barely make out that he was a police officer in uniform. I assumed he was going to advise me not to drive but he leaned against the car, barely able to breathe, and said in a whisper, you have to take me to my precinct. Of course, I said, I would but first I needed to pick up my stranded colleague.
I picked her up and the three of us headed on harrowing drive north. I broke every rule of driving-going rapidly in and out of traffic, driving the wrong way on one way streets, speeding and racing through red lights, all in an effort to deliver my precious cargo to the destination. Eventually we arrived at the precinct of the police officer who I then knew as Officer Lopez and left him to emerge into a changed world for him and all of us. I continued my journey although without a uniformed officer it took far longer, picking up my wife and then making our way to Queens. I was never so happy to get there as on that day.
Sharing this after all these years is a bit therapeutic for me and thank you for bearing with me if you made it this far. Lessons? Maybe a few. Never forget those who are struggling. I needed to go back to pick up my colleague who had a hard time breathing even as I had a police office in the car telling me to get to the precinct. Every year on September 11 she sends me a card for that decision. In times of crisis you need to push the limit to help those who have critical jobs to do. I hope we have done that these past 18 months for each other trying to do everything we can to support you in the essential work you are doing. If we stick together, help each other and push forward, there are better days ahead. It didn’t seem that way on September 11 and doesn’t always seem that way now. Yes some things changed then forever. But the essential parts of life of caring and loving family and friends and finding fulfillment in the heroic and meaningful work of helping to ease the suffering and pain of others remain. You do that every day.
I am sure you have your own memories of September 11 and maybe you have drawn your own better lessons for those memories. Or maybe they are just precious memories. Hold tightly on to everything and everyone that is important to you no matter what happens. And as critically, let them hold on to you. By doing so you will be a true hero. That is the most important lesson.
-Seth Diamond, WJCS CEO
