A Reporter's Notebook from 9/11
by Robert Mitchell
It’s been 24 years since I volunteered for The Salvation Army in the days following 9/11. There are several images burned in my mind that I reflect on every year when that tragic day rolls around.
One face I’ll never forget is that of Harry, a longtime New York City firefighter who came by my Salvation Army canteen near ground zero early Saturday morning the week of the attacks. I was there to serve food and drinks to the heroes coming and going from the debris, but I took the time to talk to someone who definitely needed an ear.
Harry’s weathered face was one of complete anguish. His voice broke as he told me about his 29-year-old son, also a New York City firefighter, who was feared lost in the rubble. On the job just seven months, he was last seen on Tuesday when the buildings collapsed.
“He’s my only son,” Harry said. “They won’t let me dig because they’re afraid of the trauma if I find his body. I brought his mother down here. She fainted.”
Looking two blocks south toward the smoldering remains of World Trade Center Building 4, Harry was still hopeful.
“He’s big and strong,” he said. “Like me.”
Open-air prayer
I reminded him that the Bible says all things are possible with God and not to give up hope. I asked Harry about his spiritual life, and he told me while he believed in God, he had lots of questions. Why? Why would God allow such evil? I did my best to explain how evil entered the world, but I quickly sensed that Harry wasn’t really interested in a theology lesson. He wanted a shovel to go find his son.
Finally, I did the only thing I know to do in such situations. We prayed.
It was my first experience as a Salvation Army volunteer, though I wish the circumstances had been different. As with every disaster, no matter where it happens, The Salvation Army was front and center. Why was I there? In some small way, I hoped to help the “least of these.” I felt helpless watching everything unfold on television.
My team of 11 people arrived in New York City at about 4 a.m. Friday the week of the attacks. We were here to relieve other volunteers. As we crossed the George Washington Bridge, all eyes fixed southward on the rising smoke.
It had an impact on us all, but no one said too much. The city, somehow, seemed smaller without the towering edifices that once graced the world’s most famous skyline.
Our first stop was The Salvation Army’s Greater New York Divisional Headquarters on West 14th Street, where supplies of bottled water, clothes, food, and medicine were stacked up outside the building. The donations were so overwhelming The Salvation Army had to ask people to stop giving. There was no room for more.
Many hands pitching in
People came up and down 14th Street, asking if they could volunteer. The outpouring from the community was heartwarming.
Soon, a 15-foot truck arrived, full of bottled water and juices. Our team was enlisted to unload the contents and stack it on the sidewalk. There was literally nowhere else to put it. Dodging buses and cars in the early morning traffic, we finished the job quickly.
Next we were on the canteens, which were stationed about every two blocks in the heart of the hot zone. I was assigned to a canteen near the corner of Chambers and Greenwich streets, just a few blocks away from where the towers had stood.
I tried not to look too much. I had work to do that didn’t involve gawking. Besides, the view left my stomach in knots. I’d been in the World Trade Center just a few months before the attacks to meet NBA legend Bill Russell. In fact, I was in the city just a few blocks from the World Trade Center the Friday before. My family and I had walked these streets. I thought, But for the grace of God …
I saw people carrying posters with pictures of their loved ones believed to be buried in the debris. Many of them were still crying some four days later. I could only imagine their pain. I wondered if they’d ever laugh or be happy again.
Walking by were literally hundreds of police, fire, and city officials, along with U.S. service personnel, clergy, utility workers, hazardous materials teams, construction workers, and many others. Seeing the soldiers, some heavily armed with automatic weapons, made me think, Maybe we really are at war.
A quiet resolve
People who’d been working on the rescue and recovery efforts were often thirsty and hungry when they reached us. We were there with sandwiches, drinks, masks, gloves, clothes, saline solution for the eyes, anything they needed. We even set out food and water for the numerous police dogs used for search and rescue.
I asked many of the firefighters, who were doing the digging, how it was going. Nearly all just shook their heads and looked at the ground with a blank stare. The horror was unspeakable, they told me.
After several hours at the canteen, my team decided to take drinks and food to the workers at the scene, right at ground zero. As we got close to the buildings, we could feel the heat emanating from the rubble. It made us all stop and think how hot it must have been for the people trapped in the buildings that Tuesday.
Many of the surrounding structures in the city’s financial district were damaged from falling debris and covered with dust.
In the months that followed, I returned to ground zero many times, but mostly in my role as a Salvation Army journalist. I wrote several stories for both Good News! and Priority! magazine, interviewing volunteers and employees. I’ve never visited the 9/11 Memorial & Museum because I don’t want to relive anything from those days. I’ve heard some of my photographs are there, along with a baseball bat made by my son for the 20th anniversary, but I have opted not to go.
Over the years, I have swapped stories with many people who were there and ate at the “Taj Mahal,” the giant Salvation Army feeding tent near ground zero. Others remember stopping by a Salvation Army canteen like mine.
Spared for a purpose
One of those people was Paul Rosario, a former New York Police Department (NYPD) officer who now attends my church near Kingston, N.Y. We bonded first over Jesus Christ but also found we had a little bit in common besides our love of the New York Mets.
Paul was supposed to have been on duty the morning of September 11, but because of a training course, he worked overnight on the 11 p.m. to 7 a.m. shift instead. He saw his partner, Ramon “Ray” Suarez, that fateful morning and the two chatted briefly as Suarez teamed up with Mark Ellis, a young cop who Paul had trained. Paul and Suarez talked about being together on the street again soon.
Some two hours later, Suarez and Ellis were both killed rescuing people in the north tower.
Paul suffered survivor’s guilt in the months that followed but returned to work searching at ground zero, often alongside his wife, Iris, a fellow NYPD officer. He later tore his rotator cuff and got addicted to pain killers and alcohol. For many years, he was far from the God he now serves.
“I didn’t want to know anything about God or Christ when I was in my addiction,” Paul says.
Honoring the heroes
Paul eventually went to rehab in 2010 and was working as a sexton at a local Presbyterian church when he gave his life to Christ.
“I dropped to my knees and cried out to Jesus to please save me,” Paul recalled. “It was like electricity going through me. I can remember vividly the sun reflecting through the stained-glass windows right to the cross. That’s when I turned my life around.”
Paul, who retired from the NYPD in 2013, said he used to “shut down” on the anniversary of 9/11 every year. He wouldn’t watch the news or want to talk about the experience, but today he has a new outlook.
“Now, I understand why God saved me,” Paul said. “He spared me that day — a day I should have been working — for a reason, and that reason was to honor our Lord and to live a life worthy of Him. I really try to watch what I say, what I do, and how I think. Christ is a part of everything in my life. Every decision I make now, I include the Lord.
“What it means to me now is to live a life honoring those who lost their lives on that day. The best way I can do that is by discipling and spreading the Word and living a life that honors Jesus Christ.”
