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My
good friend Randy sent this email to me about a week after the terrorist
attacks on September 11th. It was written by Pete, who is a good
friend of Randy's brother, Ken.
Hello
all. I realize that Deb has been sending out the updates for the
past week but I thought I would relieve her for a day and share
with you some of my experiences. Also I am pretty much a procrastinator
so instead of a daily update, I am just going to give you some of
my experiences over the past week in one email.
Let
me start by saying that Deb and I realize that we have won the lottery
of volunteering by being able to help at Ground Zero. The access
we've had blows my
mind. I can't believe the things I have seen. From the moment I
tuned into CNN Tuesday morning it has all been so surreal. Also,
and without sounding too
dramatic, some of the things I am writing about are extremely disturbing.
So proceed with caution.
Deb
called me and said there is a place on the lower east side that
needs volunteers. I had already ridden my bike over to the Javits
center and seen the
thousands of volunteers so I was pretty skeptical. But as it turned
out we were needed at this relief center blocks away from ground
zero. The Seamen's Institute
serves as a rest area for the workers. They can walk over to it
and get a hot meal off the grill, a cold drink, shower, counseling,
supplies. You name it. They
have two pickup trucks that shuttle food and supplies over to a
command post at Ground Zero. The location of the command post has
varied by day (depending on which building is in jeopardy of collapse)
but is usually about 500 yards from the rubble on the southeast
side of Ground Zero. That means we have been spending most of our
time south and east of Tower 2. The charred remains of WTC 4 and
5 are between us and Tower 1.
Because
our post is so close, rescue workers are able to walk up and get
almost anything they need. They ask for masks, dry socks, cold drinks,
and hot food.
Although this command post is very close, there are still workers
who don't have the time or energy to get to us. In order to accomodate
them, we send small teams
with wheel barrels full of cold drinks and buckets full of food
down to them. We call it going "downtown" or "down
to zero". Its a mess. There are no words to describe it. I
used to work on the 83rd floor of the North Tower (Tower 1). I know
the area real well. It still took me a few minutes to figure out
where the hell I was. There are documents from the towers literally
everywhere. You've all heard about the twisted medal and debris.
I saw cars pancaked to the size of mattresses. I walked by a church
that had all of its windows blown out and saw a blue shirt sleeve
cutoff at the shoulder hanging on the window sill.
On
our first trip to Zero, Deb, Bob, and I carried drinks and burgers.
We were accompanied by the woman from ER, Juliana Something with
an M. (Later we saw
Sarah Jessica Parker and Mathew Broderick and some woman from Law
and Order but the celebs are really such a small part of this.)
We walked along handing
out our food. It seemed like no one made eye contact with us. There
were fire hoses to walk over and pockets of rescue workers everywhere.
It was very crowded. I noticed Deb walk between two firemen and
step over a green body bag that was being pulled from the rubble.
I wondered if she knew what it was and
what was in it. A sickening feeling overcame me and I questioned
if we should be there at all. We continued to walk and it became
apparent that we were doing some
good because all of our food and drinks were gone.
Later
that night, Bob and I passed out coffee and warm food at Zero. We
made our way around a blown out Burger King and behind the South
Tower. Around the
corner we could see a skyscraper that had absorbed some of the South
Tower. There was a 50 foot piece of steel sticking out half way
up the building. Almost
all of the windows had been blown out and there was gray dust everywhere.
There is gray dust everywhere at Zero. Later a rescue worker would
tell us he found
body parts on the top of that building. We continued around the
corner and came across a blown out bar called Sir Charlies. The
front of it where there is
usually outdoor seating was now a Red Cross center. The inside was
all dusty with broken glass all over the floor. There were candles
on the bar and rescue
workers inside drinking beer and whatever else they could salvage.
This was no party though, and I am sure that normally they don't
drink on break, but we quickly
came to realize there are no rules at Zero. It is all about the
rescue and no one seems to care about anything else. We grabbed
a beer and talked to a couple of the guys on break. We met a volunteer
who was passing himself off as a construction worker. His heart
was heavy and he said he had to help. We met a
lot of people like that.
We
left the bar and gave out the rest of our coffee. On our way back
to the post we heard a fireman yell, "Hey how bout some hands
over here...this s**t ain't
f***ing light." We hurried over and helped about ten firemen
carry a huge piece of debris out of the rubble. Immediately our
eyes filled with dust and debris. We followed them back to a blown
out deli across from the south tower and began turning it into a
supply center. We ripped doors off of the restrooms and packed supplies
on top of them. Bob and I grabbed some goggles and masks and worked
the remainder of the night. It was pretty cool to be able to help
out with some heavy lifting. We formed human chains and worked frantically
to complete our tasks. One of the guys in our group turned out to
be a Comcast Cable guy from New Haven, CT. He had driven down from
New Haven by himself and worked all day and night because he felt
he had to help.
The
next couple days were filled with more surreal experiences. Deb
and I helped stock a blown out store with dry clothes. There we
met a worker who said he
had worked the entire day before in the rain. He said that many
of the men had no rain gear and their clothes were soaked and covered
with grey muck. They were not about to stop so they took clothes
from the blown out Brooks Brothers at the bottom of 1 Liberty Plaza
(about 20 yards east). He said in his thick New
York accent, "I was wearin a f***ing cashmere coat to dig through
debris. I had on f***ing Brooks Brothers pants. I dont even own
s**t that expensive."
Earlier
that day we had to move our post from the base of an unstable 1
Liberty Plaza. We scrambled to set up our new post across from the
morgue. We know it is the morgue because the side of the building
is marked "morgue" in red paint. Plus it stinks like hell
when you walk by it. Deb, who has emerged as a leader of our group,
barked out orders for the assembly of the post.
In
between our new post and the plaza was a memorial. A statue of an
old man sitting on a park bench was draped in flowers, pictures,
notes, and American flags. I met an ironworker (bad ass) there.
He was kneeling on one knee. He looked up at me and said how this
is a terrible tragedy but it was also a job site for him with work
to be done. He then pulled a note from his wallet and showed it
to me. It had been written by a little kid and it said "thank
you rescue workers for trying to save the people." He started
to cry.
The
firemen and rescue workers are so eager to rescue someone. You can
see it in their eyes and hear it in their voices. They rarely take
breaks. I learned that they sleep on the floors of the dark dusty
abandoned buildings in order to stay close to the effort. Everyone
wants to see someone pulled out of that rubble. They have lost so
many of their own people. They are a tight knit community. Many
of them know each other regardless of which fire house they work
for. Several times I witnessed firemen seemingly seeing each other
for the first time since the attack. They hug and appear relieved
for a second.
The
way they react to us is amazing. They are so thankful for our effort.
There is often a series of thank yous back and forth followed by
a few great jobs and God bless yous. They really like the girls.
Deb is a big hit down there. She could be bringing them week old
sandwiches and they will take them from her. For me the best thing
I can hear is Thank You Brother. It blew my mind the first time
one of them refered to me as Brother. These guys are the real men.
One
of the strange things down there is the amount of photos being taken.
I don't know how I feel about it. I would love to take some, and
I have, but it also
feels wrong at times. I have decided to leave the camera at home
for now. I would like you to see some of the faces and moments though.
We met one fire fighter who spoke to us for a while. He told us
about life at the fire house and life as an ironworker (he did both,major
bad ass). He was a nice normal guy. He was talking to us about how
he should work-out more and how he was looking to meet a nice girl.
He also told us he had already lost his brother and best friend.
These are regular people who do extremely brave work for a living.
Another
group doing extremely brave work are the rescue workers and their
dogs. We see many of them searching frantically in the rubble. At
one point I
was walking with my wheel barrel full of drinks and a man came out
of the rubble with his dog. We offered the man a drink. The dog
was a black lab. He had tape
around his paws and was breathing heavy. I tilted the wheel barrel
forward so the water from the bottom of the barrel would shift forward.
The dog drank eagerly
from the wheel barrel. What a moment. Later other dogs would do
the same.
One
of the rescue workers I had mentioned earlier was from Indiana.
He and his team jumped on a bus and drove sixteen hours with police
escort to help. When
we thanked him he made it very clear that he was exactly where he
wanted to be and deserved no thanks. Not far from where we met him
is a fire station. It sits just next to the blown out deli and about
100 yards southeast of what used to be Tower 2. Those guys were
obviously the first on the scene. They suffered major casualties.
It is such a sad place to walk by. The remaining members sit out
front when they are not working. They look so sad. There is a memorial
there with candles and American Flags. Pictures of the fallen are
on the walls.
Just
yesterday we all noticed the mood seemed to change. The sense of
urgency is still there but hope is dwindling. The men don't walk
with their heads down so much anymore. I hate to say it but I think
they are getting used to Zero. They talk to us more now too. We
try to make them laugh. We offer them things like "cold drinks,
hot dogs, candy....nudie magazines, lotto tickets, beer." It
feels good to see them crack a smile.
The
Firemen, Police, Military, Rescue workers, and Iron workers are
all so amazing. I have such a respect for them now. I hope we never
take them for granted. I
also have a better feeling about people in general. Like I said
earlier, we know we are lucky to be able to help. For everyone we
met that was able to volunteer we know there are thousands who can't.
We also know that the gov't is telling volunteers not to come here.
And they probably shouldn't. This is one of the reasons why I think
Deb and I feel compelled to write about what we saw. That being
said, I would like to share one story about a volunteer I met last
night.
His name is Matt. He lives in Denver and works as a team leader
for a financial services company. He is forty years old. He said
he has been searching for more meaning in his life. He said he has
never been impulsive or adventurous but when he saw this tragedy
he had to act. He got on the first plane he could and came to New
York. He booked a hotel for 3 days at 270 per night. He immediately
went to the Javits center and saw thousands of people. Determined
to help he hopped on a subway and headed downtown. He got off at
Fulton Street (2 blocks east of zero) and began asking anyone where
he could help. Fortunately for him Deb has told every cop downtown
about the Seamen's Institute and one of them pointed him our way.
He joined up with our crew and helped us move boxes for a few hours.
Then he jumped on a truck with us and headed over to our Zero post.
Later he was able to go to Zero and pass out food. He was so grateful
to be able to help and he worked hard all night. Bob told him to
check out of the hotel and sleep on his couch. In the midst of this
awful tragedy I have seen a lot of amazing things.
This
past week has been so unbelievable. We have all heard so many terrible
heart wrenching stories. Just recently we found out our football
pool is cancelled
because over 200 people are still missing. Personally we have many
friends affected. We are so grateful Erica got out alive. We are
so hurt that Bill, Mark, and Steve and so many others are still
missing because we know what that means to their closest friends
and family. We know so many of you have been directly affected.
At this point all we can say is we hope that this never happens
again. Ever. And what we can take away from this tragedy is a renewed
belief in the heart of people in general.
Here
is some additional information on how to help. The money donated
to these charities goes to the families of the many thousands of
victims that are in
all of our hearts.
New
York State World Trade Center Relief Fund
P.O. Box 5028
Albany, New York 12205
United
Way of New York City (September 11th fund)
2 Park Ave
New York, NY
10016
All
our love,
Pete and Debbie
Never
Forget
9-11-01
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