Sept. 11, 2001: a day not to be forgotten
My mask didn’t fit, making it hard to breathe. The filters were ineffective anyway. They did little to stop the bad air from coming in. It was air full of jet fuel, pulverized glass, concrete ash, mercury, burned plastics, every modern toxin imaginable. These flimsy masks were all that stood between our team and a thick poison cloud. I staggered blindly through the clouded wasteland of dust and twisted debris, my hands working overtime to keep my goggles clear. My labored breathing made me sound like Darth Vader. I couldn’t see the faces of the others because of their masks. They looked like space creatures.
Small fires smoldered amid the debris. The clouds of smoke and dust lent an eerie unreality to the site. Low visibility increased the likelihood of getting hurt, and walking was a challenge. Uneven rubble lay where tall buildings once stood: iron, concrete and steel in random piles several stories high. Distorted into ungodly shapes, they dwarfed the remnants of crushed police cars and fire trucks. The entire scene felt, looked and smelled like an apocalyptic scene from a Hollywood movie. The destruction all around me was overwhelming, unfathomable, sickening. Fifteen acres of total devastation. I was standing on a grave site and the largest crime scene in American history. I had just stepped onto ground zero for the first time (“From 9/11’s ashes, a new world took shape. It did not last,” Sept. 10).
We all have memories of 9/11; this was mine. I was part of a team of Secret Service agents assigned to rescue and recovery. We came away from ground zero changed men. Standing on the graves of almost 3,000 innocent people affects you in immeasurable ways. But despite the horrors of 9/11, the best of America came through on Sept. 11, 2001, and the days that followed. The entire country came together to lift each other up from hell. My grief over what happened in New York, the Pentagon and Shanksville, Pennsylvania, will never leave me, neither will the patriotism I felt as America picked itself up. It was a day we stood as one.
On the anniversary of the attacks of 9/11, it is time for us to reflect and remember. We must remember the victims of the attacks and their families. We must remember the thousands of troops who have fallen and their families since the global war on terrorism began. There have been many improvements in intelligence gathering and sharing among our law enforcement and intelligence agencies. We learned a lot in our war against terrorism but we can never let up. Those who wish us harm have the patience of saints and will strike when we let our guard down. We must continue to do all we can to make sure nothing like this happens again.
And, most of all, we need to help those that need help. Suicides among post-9/11 veterans are four times as high as combat deaths. The victim count from 9/11 continues to climb and, according to the National Institute for Occupational Health and Safety, 3,946 members of the World Trade Center Health Program, which supports first responders and survivors on-site during and after the attacks, have died. We must lend a hand to good organizations, and there are many, like the Stephen Siller Tunnel to Towers Foundation named after firefighter Stephen Siller, who, although off-duty and unable to drive through the Battery Tunnel, strapped 60 pounds of equipment on his back and ran 3 miles through the tunnel to the towers never to be seen again.
The true heroes, those who gave their lives, can never be thanked enough. Their families can never be consoled enough. These organizations need our support. Yes, it’s time to reflect but beyond reflection we must do more. We must act. And, and above all, we must never forget.