The Same Post I Post Every 9/11
Its time for the ubiquitous 9/11 post. I hope mine is a bit different from the rest you've probably seen.
9/11 was a day that I can't remember, I remember the footage and the shock, but ask me any specifics and I draw a blank. I do remember 9/12.
When I was in high school I was a certified EMT and had worked for the city as a volunteer . The day after the tragedy I dug through my dresser drawers until I found my city ID tags and made my way downtown. I was bounced from one location to the next, and at each place I registered my name and offered my services. Some time after 4PM I found myself at the Javits Center, which was being used as a supply drop and volunteer headquarters. I found a man taking names and gave him mine. I sat awhile in the sun talking to some nurses and out of state EMTs. An hour or so later I was approached by a woman who asked me to go downstairs and help sort supplies. I did this awhile and I guess around 10PM or so I was adopted by a group of cops and firefighters. One man told him I reminded him of his daughter and to stick near them because they would look after me and make sure I was okay.
They asked if I would like to join their team and help them down at ground zero. Volunteers had been banding together in groups so everyone could be accounted for and no one was left behind. Most groups had cops, firemen, EMTs, a doctor or two, and construction workers. My new team invited me to a conference room in the Javits center that had been converted to a makeshift bunker. Cots lay across the floor and a few anemic pillows sat in a pile in the corner of the room. After settling in and claiming sleeping space we walked down to a cafeteria where volunteers were serving Swanson frozen dinners. I ate a bit and made my way to a corner to call my mother and let her know I was alright and that I would not be coming home that night. She cried and begged me to change my mind, but I was already committed.
I barely slept that night, it was like being in some deranged sleep away camp where everyone was joking and bullshitting to lighten the mood. We were woken at 8AM by some OSHA men who informed us that FEMA was taking over the recovery effort and that our services were no longer needed. No one in the group took that news very well, there was cursing , yelling, and we left the building dejected. This one fireman, who had taken over the leadership role, and in turn had gotten the nickname chief, started walking downtown. I followed and asked what was happening. He told me he was going to help or at least get arrested trying. We followed suit and started walking downtown.
Somewhere along the way an empty city bus pulled over and the driver offered us a ride as far as canal street. He told us he'd like to take us further but traffic was being blocked past that point. We gladly took the ride and opened all the windows to enjoy the sun and fresh air. At our stop we left the bus and thanked the driver. We walked into the wreckage and spent three days down there. I slept in corners under overpasses so falling glass wouldn't kill me while I slept. I saw some very horrible things and met some very good people. I rode uptown in a fire-truck and people clapped and cheered as we passed.
I hold today and the next few very close to my heart, I went to war down there and to this day I am unable to speak of the specific things I saw. I hope everyone remembers the good that came out of the bad, the humanity and the compassion that overtook our nation. Our fear should not be an excuse for our rage. We must remember the humanity behind the images that play all to often on the television and make this day special in our own way.
9/11 was a day that I can't remember, I remember the footage and the shock, but ask me any specifics and I draw a blank. I do remember 9/12.
When I was in high school I was a certified EMT and had worked for the city as a volunteer . The day after the tragedy I dug through my dresser drawers until I found my city ID tags and made my way downtown. I was bounced from one location to the next, and at each place I registered my name and offered my services. Some time after 4PM I found myself at the Javits Center, which was being used as a supply drop and volunteer headquarters. I found a man taking names and gave him mine. I sat awhile in the sun talking to some nurses and out of state EMTs. An hour or so later I was approached by a woman who asked me to go downstairs and help sort supplies. I did this awhile and I guess around 10PM or so I was adopted by a group of cops and firefighters. One man told him I reminded him of his daughter and to stick near them because they would look after me and make sure I was okay.
They asked if I would like to join their team and help them down at ground zero. Volunteers had been banding together in groups so everyone could be accounted for and no one was left behind. Most groups had cops, firemen, EMTs, a doctor or two, and construction workers. My new team invited me to a conference room in the Javits center that had been converted to a makeshift bunker. Cots lay across the floor and a few anemic pillows sat in a pile in the corner of the room. After settling in and claiming sleeping space we walked down to a cafeteria where volunteers were serving Swanson frozen dinners. I ate a bit and made my way to a corner to call my mother and let her know I was alright and that I would not be coming home that night. She cried and begged me to change my mind, but I was already committed.
I barely slept that night, it was like being in some deranged sleep away camp where everyone was joking and bullshitting to lighten the mood. We were woken at 8AM by some OSHA men who informed us that FEMA was taking over the recovery effort and that our services were no longer needed. No one in the group took that news very well, there was cursing , yelling, and we left the building dejected. This one fireman, who had taken over the leadership role, and in turn had gotten the nickname chief, started walking downtown. I followed and asked what was happening. He told me he was going to help or at least get arrested trying. We followed suit and started walking downtown.
Somewhere along the way an empty city bus pulled over and the driver offered us a ride as far as canal street. He told us he'd like to take us further but traffic was being blocked past that point. We gladly took the ride and opened all the windows to enjoy the sun and fresh air. At our stop we left the bus and thanked the driver. We walked into the wreckage and spent three days down there. I slept in corners under overpasses so falling glass wouldn't kill me while I slept. I saw some very horrible things and met some very good people. I rode uptown in a fire-truck and people clapped and cheered as we passed.
I hold today and the next few very close to my heart, I went to war down there and to this day I am unable to speak of the specific things I saw. I hope everyone remembers the good that came out of the bad, the humanity and the compassion that overtook our nation. Our fear should not be an excuse for our rage. We must remember the humanity behind the images that play all to often on the television and make this day special in our own way.