[Fidelis Ad Mortem]
Seven years ago, 60 police officers perished in the line of duty in connection with the terrorist attacks in New York City. 23 were with the NYPD, and 37 with Port Authority. An additional 343 firefighters and paramedics were also killed.
To be honest with you, the morning of September 11th is all sort of a blur. After the first plane struck the north tower at 8:45, we had the televisions at MCU all turned to CNN. When the second plane stuck the south tower at 9:03, we had already begun planning for a response team to dispatch to Manhattan to assist with search and rescue if needed. I can't begin to tell you the sinking feeling in my chest when the Pentagon was hit by another plane, at 9:43. By then we were on high alert, and had put out the order to start evacuating some of the more prominent buildings and to increase security around Gotham. Then there were reports of more plans missing. Nobody knew how many. The phones were ringing off the hook as we worked to coordinate a response in case we were hit.
The south tower collapsed at 10:05.
For the next two...three minutes, nobody picked up any phones. We just stood there and watched CNN in shock. Watched the cloud of dust billowing down the street. Watched people running for their lives. We were watching people die on national television.
Flight 93 crashed into a field at 10:10, but we wouldn't hear about it for another hour or so, and as the newsflashes came across the screen...and then the estimates...figures. The warnings and evacuations, we all kept doing our jobs. I don't know how we kept going, after the north tower collapsed, the reports of the firefighters and police officers who had been inside. All the people who had been at work that day. The people on the planes. People on the ground. The news footage was being replayed, over and over...and yet somehow we did our jobs.
I went to New York City in the days after the attacks. I got covered in ash and dust. I worked beside officers and civilians from across the country. I don't remember many of their faces. We all wore masks, but you could see it in our eyes. We were there because we needed to do something. Anything. I stood at vigils on street corners. I knelt in a church when I hadn't been to church in years. We all needed to do something, and just...being there was all that we could do to honor those we lost.
Those police officers, paramedics, and firefighters were just doing their jobs. And on that day in September, they died doing what they were called to do. Service. They left behind children. Wives. Husbands and fathers. Mothers and grandparents. Friends. When you take the oath of a public servant, you swear to put your life on the line for those you care about...and complete strangers. And on September 11th, 403 brave souls - everyday heroes - did just that. There have been memorials, poems, funerals, and names carved into stone and steel, but nothing will ever completely honor the brothers and sisters we lost - that I lost - more than keeping their memories alive.
It's the least we can do. The least I can do.
Fidelis Ad Mortem.
Faithful until death.
[ooc: This post is dedicated to the memory of the 403 public servants who perished in the line of duty on 9/11/2001, and to the memory of all those lost in the attacks that day.]
To be honest with you, the morning of September 11th is all sort of a blur. After the first plane struck the north tower at 8:45, we had the televisions at MCU all turned to CNN. When the second plane stuck the south tower at 9:03, we had already begun planning for a response team to dispatch to Manhattan to assist with search and rescue if needed. I can't begin to tell you the sinking feeling in my chest when the Pentagon was hit by another plane, at 9:43. By then we were on high alert, and had put out the order to start evacuating some of the more prominent buildings and to increase security around Gotham. Then there were reports of more plans missing. Nobody knew how many. The phones were ringing off the hook as we worked to coordinate a response in case we were hit.
The south tower collapsed at 10:05.
For the next two...three minutes, nobody picked up any phones. We just stood there and watched CNN in shock. Watched the cloud of dust billowing down the street. Watched people running for their lives. We were watching people die on national television.
Flight 93 crashed into a field at 10:10, but we wouldn't hear about it for another hour or so, and as the newsflashes came across the screen...and then the estimates...figures. The warnings and evacuations, we all kept doing our jobs. I don't know how we kept going, after the north tower collapsed, the reports of the firefighters and police officers who had been inside. All the people who had been at work that day. The people on the planes. People on the ground. The news footage was being replayed, over and over...and yet somehow we did our jobs.
I went to New York City in the days after the attacks. I got covered in ash and dust. I worked beside officers and civilians from across the country. I don't remember many of their faces. We all wore masks, but you could see it in our eyes. We were there because we needed to do something. Anything. I stood at vigils on street corners. I knelt in a church when I hadn't been to church in years. We all needed to do something, and just...being there was all that we could do to honor those we lost.
Those police officers, paramedics, and firefighters were just doing their jobs. And on that day in September, they died doing what they were called to do. Service. They left behind children. Wives. Husbands and fathers. Mothers and grandparents. Friends. When you take the oath of a public servant, you swear to put your life on the line for those you care about...and complete strangers. And on September 11th, 403 brave souls - everyday heroes - did just that. There have been memorials, poems, funerals, and names carved into stone and steel, but nothing will ever completely honor the brothers and sisters we lost - that I lost - more than keeping their memories alive.
It's the least we can do. The least I can do.
Fidelis Ad Mortem.
Faithful until death.
[ooc: This post is dedicated to the memory of the 403 public servants who perished in the line of duty on 9/11/2001, and to the memory of all those lost in the attacks that day.]