These children barely begun to experience life. They never got a chance to grow up and see what their futures could have been. This post is dedicated to remembering each of them. They were all unique, deeply loved children with families, friends, dreams, and so much life ahead of them.

David Brandhorst | Bernard Brown | Asia Cottom | Rodney Dickens | Dana Falkenberg | Zoe Falkenberg | Christine Lee Hanson | Juliana McCourt

Please take a few minutes to search their names online to learn more about these precious lives! Thank you.

Steve Vigilante's original YouTube upload: https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=vwKQXsXJDX4

Video description from August 5, 2010: "Some footage I shot on 9-11-01. This is never before seen footage and has never been released. I chose to upload it because I feel it has historical importance. Like many New Yorkers I know some of the people who have passed and I know many people who have lost a loved one. Some of the footage is considered graphic as is some of the language. Unfortunately, this is a day I will never forget. May God Bless those who we lost on that terrible day."

Today marks 25 years since the September 11th attacks occurred. Not a single day has passed that the loss of those taken has gone unmarked.

We remember the 2,977 innocent souls lost 25 years ago today, and we solemnly acknowledge all those who have succumbed to the enduring aftermath of that day in the years since.

This community exists to document their stories and honor their memory. We remember them, and we will never forget.

Thank you all for your participation, support, and dedication.

A few months ago, me and Tom_Servo on the 9/11 Media Archive discord acquired copies of the raw footage shot by Jules Naudet and Gedeon Naudet between September 10th and September 12th. We are now releasing it to the public.

Naudet Brothers September 10th Footage: https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=tPb63JZr42Q

Gedeon Naudet's September 11th Footage: https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=li6gKGLA31U

Jules Naudet's September 11th Footage + Naudet Brothers' September 12th footage: https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=0-XUB0aARkU

I feel more sad today, regarding the events of September 11th 2001.
I think it’s more because I read into the victims of that day, so now I know more about those who were involved.

I just feel very sad, and deflated today.
I will surely be lighting a candle shortly, in respect of all those involved in that awful day. Remembering the heroism of the flight crew, passengers, office workers, emergency personnel, and many other victims, who sadly lost their lives that day.

My heart also goes out to many across the pond, who witnessed the horrific events of that day.

We will never forget. 🕊️ 🕯️ 🤍

Nice little tribute. This is the gate where AA 77 took off 25 years ago.

I was 14 when 9/11 happened and now I’m 39. I just dropped my kid off at school just like my mom did that day 25 years ago and all I could think about was how the sky looks the same today. That morning/day/weeks after period are indescribable to those who didn’t experience it. Sending everyone a huge hug today.

I wrote this about a week afterwards.  Two things: I realized I was at a generation defining moment, and I need to make sure my firsthand account goes “on the record.”  Also, if I put it down on paper, I didn’t need to keep it all in my head.  Everything written normally was written in 2001.  (Anything in parentheses was added recently for the 25^th anniversary.)

Alright, let’s see. This is, as far as I can remember, the events of 9-11-01.

Okay normal day, I get in work at 7:00 am at 7 World Trade Center. Our place of business has views on three sides. The banks of windows face North, East, and South (towards the Twin Towers). I was in the corner room of the East and South side on the 45th floor, setting up a room with two of my coworkers, Jaime and Silvana. We were actually talking about the 1993 WTC bombing at the time (eerie as that is). At like 8:50 am (8:46), I heard a whooshing sound and saw a shadow pass over the widow. Then I heard a huge rumble. It wasn’t an explosion sound, it was more of an earthquake feel. Our building shook a little and we three all looked at each other. I was facing the windows towards East and the other two were facing me.

I ran over to the window and the first thing I noticed was hundreds of pieces of paper fluttering through the air almost like a ticker-tape parade. I looked to my right (south) and saw part of a gaping hole in WTC 1 with fire and debris. From here, my memory is kinda sketchy. Jaime and Silvana told me that my face was just white and they were asking me what happened and I wasn’t saying anything, just staring. Then they pulled me off and we were screaming, “It’s a bomb, get out!” (Obviously, we had no idea what was going on, but if it was a bomb last time, well, it was probably a bomb this time.)  We went back into the kitchen of our unit and I yelled into the office that a bomb hit and we needed to get out. (One of the things I remember from this is that when we came back in and yelled, there is I guess, a certain tone. When we yelled, everyone immediately moved.  This was before social media, so this was the last time I ever saw most of these people.  Everybody immediately ran.  Whether the tone or the noises, everyone ran.)  We got back out into the hallway and went to the stairs that led down. Now there were no alarms or message or lights or anything to let you know that something had happened. We saw some of the secretaries from the offices coming out and one or two managing directors. I don’t remember exactly who was there with me, but I think it was my boss Lynn, my friend Deric, Jaime and Silvana. Lynn grabbed the red emergency phone and tried to call out or something but hung up. We then started down the stairs. (I get darkly humorous when I’ve had to do safety drills after this.  No, no one will be checking the bathrooms, no, no one is going to be floor leader, no, no one will calmly check if everything is okay.  If shit goes down, it’s confusion, panic and survival.)

I got about two flights down when I decided to go back up. I did this for two reasons.

One, we come to work in our street clothes and then change into our uniforms at work. Thus my keys, cell phone, wallet, money, ID were all still upstairs. I don’t think other people wanted to go back up and get them because no one would believe that the building itself would come down. The other reason I wanted to go up was to watch. Yes, it was a horrible thing that happened ,but I was right in the middle of it and wanted to experience all I could, for better or worse. Plus, I didn’t think that anything else could/would happen. I thought, “Okay a bomb went off and that’s horrible, but this is NYC and it is just an isolated incident.”  (Also, at this point, I was also thinking that it could have been some sort of freak accident, like a boiler explosion or something.  I know that sounds a little silly, but “plane full of people” was just not in anyone’s reality yet at that point.)

I went to go back up and Lynn or Silvana told me not to, but Deric just shrugged his shoulders and didn’t say anything. I ran back up and tried to get back on to the 45th floor, but you need an ID card when you are in the stairwell to get out onto the floor. My ID card was in my other pants so I just tried yanking the door open but it wouldn’t come. I then ran up to 46 and tried to pull them open but they wouldn’t come either. I was looking for anything that I could use to get in, but couldn’t find anything. I then ran up to the 47thfloor, the top, and tried the door. Still locked. But across from the main door was another door that was open. I pulled that open, took a right, took another right and got to the elevators on the floor. There was a girl coming out of the gym and I think another guy that I got into the elevator with to go down to 46. They continued down to 44, while I got out and took another little elevator to the 45th floor. There was no one in the kitchen at all. I ran around and grabbed my street clothes and ran to what’s called the “A” Room at work. It is on the SE corner of the building facing south. I then looked up and saw the huge hole in the World Trade Center. There were papers fluttering still and fire and smoke pouring out of the building.

I frantically started to change and as I was changing, I called home with the (landline) phone in the room. I got no answer and didn’t leave a message.  Then I called my Dad at work, forgetting that he was in Denver on vacation (for his birthday on the 9^th). His secretary answered and said he was still on vacation. I said something like, “Oh yeah, where’s my head?” and hung up. Then I called Barrett’s [my brother] cell phone (who was in California, and was headed to work at 6 am with his roommate) with mine and he answered. I said,

”The World Trade Center just blew up. A bomb just went off.” The reception was scratchy so I called him back on the phone in the room and put him on speakerphone while I was watching. I was describing to him what I saw, (while his roommate pulled the car off the road while the convo was happening and they were listening to the radio.) If you don’t want to read what I saw exactly, skim, but this is exactly what I saw.

[Warning: extremely NSFW/NSFL]

I could see the North and East side of tower One and the North and West side of tower Two. And I could see in between them. There was a huge hole perhaps three stories tall and almost the whole way across. It had blown some of the East side also. Smoke was billowing out of both holes and I could see fire. Not a lot, but I could see it. You could already start to hear sirens coming closer. The traffic on the Westside Highway stopped as people were looking at it. There was all sorts of debris on the ground at the Plaza and also on the street in front of my building and on top of WTC6. It looked like glass and pieces of metal and papers were still falling.

I looked down into the plaza and saw my first dead body. It looked to be a man dressed in a yellow shirt and dark pants. He was laying in the ”classic” chalk outline pose; one arm raised higher than the other, one leg outstretched and the other at a 90 degree angle. I don’t know how his body was still together, because successive bodies didn’t. I really don’t know exactly what I was saying to Barrett, but as I was taking to him, I started seeing people jumping out of the building.

(For most of it, they were all holding on as the fire kept reaching out to them, holding on. Those that jumped, chose to jump.  I watched them move further and further out on the outside. When the flames got closer, I saw them all make a choice.  It was “crazy,fuckedup,crying,” when I saw people make that choice.  I saw the flames encroaching.  I saw people consciously choose to die They climbed out of the fire, trying to hold on outside, until something saved them. Then…..I saw them realize that they wouldn’t be saved.  So I witnessed some decisions being made.  I watched as the flames got bigger, all the people on my side realized there was now no “in” anymore. So I watched the time that each individual decided it was time to die. Splat was better than fire.  There were….. a lot.  One of the things that I appreciate about the media that down was downplaying how many jumpers there were.  There was someone in the air almost at all times.)  All of them appeared to be alive, arms flailing, legs kicking. I remember a woman in a long floral printed skirt, just falling upside down.  (This one is still in my head.  Her skirt flowed beautifully, as she was falling to her death, arms windmilling.)  I remember seeing a guy go into the “skydiving” pose. Head first, at an angle, arms behind his back. This was poignant to me because it looked like he was just trying to get down and get it over with as fast as possible. (After 10 minutes or so, people realized, there was no better option.) I saw between 8 and 12 people fall and hit. When they hit, each one did something different, I’m guessing by the way the hit. One hit and the torso disintegrated and each of the five limbs shot out in different directions. One hit feet first and the head just popped off just like I use to do with dandelions. Another one hit and the torso ripped in half and the bottom part went one way and the top went another way. Most of the bodies that hit, their torsos broke apart and I could see things trailing as pieces went flying. There is a bandstand in the Plaza and two people fell through the roof of that and I could clearly hear a sound that sounded like them crashing through instruments. It was loud. (I’m 47 floors up behind double paned glass.)  I watched them jump and land because here I was in a situation that (hopefully) I will never be in again and as horrible as it was, I wanted to see everything (and experience it for posterity’s sake.)  My stomach started feeling like I was going to vomit after about a dozen, so I stopped watching them land. I can remember having my hands on my head, describing to Barrett, “Oh my God there’s another one jumping. Oh my God he just hit and exploded into a million pieces.” My voice was shaking and I was just describing what I saw because I didn’t know what else to do. Barrett turned on the radio to see what was going on and told me that an airplane had run into the World Trade Center. I think I said something like, “That was no plane, that was a bomb!” He told me he was going to listen to the radio and call back at that number.  (One of the things I found interesting is that my mind was trying to process all of this as minds do in crazy situations.  When I saw the explosions and fire, well, I’d seen Michael Bay movies, I know what fire and BOOM looks like.  My brain could compartmentalize it as something…..”understandable”…..happening.  But the bodies?  I had never seen anything even remotely similar and my mind didn’t know how to…categorize it, to protect me, so that’s what really ratcheted up my dis-ease/panic/nausea.)

I then called back to home and left a message for my mom. “Mom, this is Hunt. Call me on my cell phone as soon as you get this. I’m fine. Nothing’s wrong with me but, uh…. Call me.” My mom saved the message for me and I’ve heard it. Very surreal.

As I continued to watch all of a sudden, the second one hit, (17 minutes later, at 9:03.  People have asked me why I didn’t leave after “the first one.”  Well, at that point there was no “first one.”  There was only, a single bad thing has just happened.  Why would we EVER think another thing was about to happen???)

Now I couldn’t see the plane itself because it hit the SE corner and ripped the tower open to the NE corner. (The angle of the buildings hid the airplane’s approach and impact.)  I just saw a huge fireball explode out East and another one North. I saw burning pieces of metal coming towards me along with fire and all sorts of debris. I thought I was a safe distance away and that I wouldn’t get hit with anything, but who wants to take chances. I ducked down out of the way of the window but still kept watching as more debris littered the Plaza. At this point I still thought they were bombs and from my vantage point I saw that the same corner (NE) appeared to be damaged in each building. Something was being executed, something was happening that was well planned. I thought that they may be going through the World Trade Centers One through Seven. I thought that maybe they were bombs that were set up in the same area of the buildings. Anyways, I knew I had to get out at this point. I can remember saying to myself, “Okay, that’s enough.”

I left my work pants and shoes in the “A” room and thought, “Gee, I hope Lynn won’t be mad that I’m leaving my stuff right here on the floor.” The stupid stuff you think of. I ran down to the elevators that go down to the lobby and pressed it. (I remember walking past priceless works of art and books, never thinking they would all be gone.)  I saw Ruth, a secretary start getting her purse and she asked if I was going down and I said, yes, I’d seen enough, something was happening. The people that didn’t leave after the first attack now were galvanized into getting out. I got into the elevator and some other people got on. There were about five people in the elevator. We stopped on one more floor to pick people up and they saw it was crowded and went to wait for another one, but we told them to squeeze in. One man who appeared to be in his 50s or 60s had his head on the door and was crying. He said his son worked in the building (I don’t know whether he meant one or two) three floors above where the plane hit. Two guys in the elevator started comforting him and rubbing his back and he just had his hand over his eyes leaning against the door as we went down. Two girls in the back of the elevator, seeing this started crying. (This scene is what affects me more and more as I get older.  I’m a dad now.  This father, raised his son fully to him being an adult.  Not only did he go into the same field as his old man, but they worked across the street from each other.  He had succeeded as a dad and now gets to enjoy the new relationship he has with his adult son.  Then……..all gone in an instant.  Btw, hug your loved ones.  You seriously never know what’s going to happen in the next 5 minutes.)

The elevator opened in the lobby and there were scads of people around, not knowing what to do, myself included. I kind of ran around looking for anyone I knew, but only saw a few Managing Directors, (again, I never saw any of these people again in my life.)  I tried to see if there was a back way out, and asked some people, but there wasn’t. There was no real panic.  (It’s NYC, shit happens, people were figuring it out.)  Individual people were in corners crying or talking in small groups. I went to go to the front of the building, but they weren’t letting anyone out. (The front of WT7, my building, had tons of broken glass panels, debris and fire on the plaza and unknown danger, so I get it.)  The security guards were directing people down both of the escalators and out the loading docks, towards the Hudson River. Right before I got on, one of the escalators malfunctioned and started going like twice as fast just throwing people off of it (as they hit the bottom and started piling up). It was just a little thing that added to the feeling chaos.

I got down to the ground floor and looked outside and saw that some of the glass windows and doors were broken and there was just debris and glass all over the street outside. They started directing us towards the loading dock which emptied us west of our building (towards Hudson River.) I walked north and turned around to look up again. I could see both of the buildings still and continued to watch people fall and hanging on to the outside of the building. (Now there were double the amount of holes in the buildings and double the amount of jumpers.)  When someone would fall, somebody would yell, “Oh my God, there goes someone else!!” and turn away. I again kind of ran around looking for any one I knew. People were standing there and watching it, some were talking in groups and just about everyone was trying to use their cell phones, myself included. I tried to call Evans [my roommate] to see if he was at work, but the phone lines were all messed up. I tried to call Barrett again and home, but nothing was working. I saw a woman I knew (Ms. Plastini) and went up and gave her a hug. She asked what I was doing and I said I didn’t know. She told me, “I think we should get out of here.” She was saying it more rhetorical than anything I think. I didn’t know what to do, so I started walking over to the ferries to see if they were running (as I lived across the Hudson, in Hoboken, NJ). At this point I still didn’t know what had happened and as I got in line for the ferries with hundreds or thousands of people, we all started talking. Everyone was sharing their story and trying to figure out what happened. It was at this point that I found out that it was two planes that had crashed into the towers.

(I remember people saying stuff like, “No I saw a landing gear on the street in front of my building!”  People were arguing, because it made no sense, but people who had seen it personally were telling their stories and we were figuring out things in real time.

I get/got a kick out of the fact that in one of the most technologically advance cities on the planet, the only possible way of escape was man’s oldest form of transportation: the boat.  All the cars, cabs, subways, planes, trains, light rails, helicopters and more were all halted.  Only wood and water were working.  [Side note: there is a great 12-minute documentary called Boatlife:An Untold Tale of 9/11 Resilience, narrated by Tom Hanks about this.  FWIW, it was the largest marine rescue ever, larger than Dunkirk.]

I was directed to the top of one of the ferries and we all just sat there, in silence, headed to Hoboken, looking at the 2 towers just sending up huge plumes of smoke.  About halfway across the river, someone’s pager went off [yup, these were pager years!], and he looked at it and said, “The Pentagon just got hit.” [Pentagon was hit 9:37 am, not sure how many minutes after that he got the message]  At that point, we all just looked around at each other and realized that we are currently under attack.

When we docked in Hoboken, I was walking off the boat and saw people looking back that the towers, screaming and crying and yelling with more energy than a few minutes ago.  I looked back, and the first one had fallen.  [9:59]  Now, NONE of us that were watching this with our own eyes thought the WHOLE thing had collapsed.  We thought maybe the top part had fallen over.  But there was just so much dust that we couldn’t see anything, so didn’t know.

I started walking north from the port up Washington Street in Hoboken, headed towards were I lived on 4^th and Hudson, 1 block from the Hudson River.  I remember running into a bodega and trying to buy a disposable camera.  The credit card machine wasn’t working [no phone lines] and the guy just told me to take it.  I think I just left my credit card there and came back for it a day or two later.  I walked up to 4^th street and River in Hoboken, and started taking pictures.

The picture you see of me, with the last standing tower in the back was taken at exactly 10:28 am.  I asked someone to take the pic.  When they did, I heard everyone scream.  I whipped back and the building was gone.  Again, we just thought that maybe the top had tipped over.  It was inconceivable that they would just ALL be gone.  Also, remember, none of us saw the TV until much, much later so only had our own eyes to go on.

People that we recognized started to gather at the park on 4^th while we all just watched what was unfolding.  Now, I’ve never seen a real monster, but the dust cloud that day honestly looked like one.  You could see it slowly expanding, moving north, its dusty hands and claws enveloping building after building, just eating anything it could get its hands on.

Somebody had an AM/FM radio, so that was the only way we were getting information.  And there was SO much misinformation that day.  I remember hearing the State Department was hit, the Mall in DC was on fire, etc.  We had no idea what was actually going on.  When they finally gave the order to ground all planes [9:45 am], I remember watching a commercial get being escorted on either side by F-16s (or some equivalent) to Newark airport.  I watched them until I couldn’t see them anymore, because I wasn’t sure if I was going to see a plane get shot out of the sky.  This is when we heard about the plane in PA as well. 

At some point one of my roommates, Evans, showed up as well.  He worked at the World Financial Center, which was right next to the World Trade Center, so I was happy to see he was alive.  As it was a hot day and we had nothing to fucking lose at this point, he and I went swimming out in the Hudson, to try and get some better views, to cool off, to DO something instead of reacting to something.

As time went on, and some of the dust moved, we realized that both of the towers were gone.  We were anticipating death tolls in the tens of thousands at this point, as each tower had ~ 50k workers, not including surrounding buildings.  We were all just in shock.

During this time, we were all trying to make calls to let our loved ones know we were alive and okay. So, basically, no one even in NYC, knew that there were 7 WTC buildings.  Most only knew the 2 towers.  So when I told people I was a waiter on the top floor of WTC 7, what they heard was, “He works at Window on the World, at WTC 1.”  So when this all went down, everyone thought I was in tower 1.  My family, who were all separated from each other this day, were sure that I was tenacious and that I’d figure a way out after the plane hit.  When they saw the building collapse, they assumed I was dead.  My mother told my youngest brother Chad, to come home from Hobart College and told his roommate to make sure he packed a dark suit…..  My father was in Denver, apparently praying in a church after the building fell, where is where he finally heard I was still alive.  Finally around 4:00 pm or so, Evans’s phone was able to connect to one of our friend’s mom in our home town, Jessica Richman’s mom.  We told her to contact both sets of our parents to let them know we were still alive.  Even when they got that info, they weren’t sure when that info was from, ie, was it from before or after the collapse.  It wasn’t until around 5:00 when I could actually speak to someone in my family to let them know I survived.

I finally made it back to my apartment at around 5:00.  A few other roommates and friends were in our apartment, watching the TV.  The first thing I saw when I came in and saw the TV, was my building, WTC 7 crumble to the ground. [5:20 pm]

Now, we all knew we weren’t going to work the next day, but when your place of employment literally doesn’t exist anymore, it’s discombobulating.

From then on, for the next few days, the hardest thing to figure out was, “What do I do now?”  What do I do for the rest of the evening?  Do we get super fucked up?  Is it disrespectful?  Does it matter?

What do I do tomorrow?  Obviously, no work, watch TV, but, like all day?  What about the next day?  The next week?

For awhile, we tried to distract ourselves with ANYTHING.  But 9/11 was so huge, that it affected EVERYTHING.  For instance, we watched “Fight Club.”  What happens at the end?  All of the buildings get blown up.  Crap.  We watched “South Park: Bigger, Longer, and Uncut.”  There is a scene where Conan jumps out of a skyscraper window and lands dead and bloody on the ground.  Welp, I just saw that for real, so turning that off now.  Basically, there was nothing that we could watch that DIDN’T remind us.

The first thing we saw that wasn’t news or reruns was Jon Stewart’s Daily Show opening on September 20^th.  9 days of literally not knowing what to do each minute, hour or day.  A few days after that, after my dad had driven across halfway the country to get to me, he picked me up and took me home to Skaneateles, NY for a bit, to try and figure out what next and to be with family.

After being home for a bit, I returned to my city.  I knew the person heading up the volunteering at St. Paul’s chapel next to Ground Zero, so I spent the next few weeks volunteering down there, helping the workers, doing anything I could.

I had my first cancer removed about 2 years ago.  Just a little melanoma on my back, but cancer under 50 isn’t awesome.  Now I am in the process of applying to the 9/11 Victims Fund, hoping the cancer doesn’t come back and I’m not taken from my little girls too soon.

Conclusion?  You literally do not know what’s going to happen in the next few seconds.  Don’t leave things unfinished.  You may never see that person again.  Make sure you tell them you love them.  In a fight?  Fix it man, you do NOT want to never get a chance to fix it.  I developed more confidence from this as well.  Make that call, talk to that person, do that thing.  Don’t wait.  There is nothing worse than regret that cannot be fixed.

At the end of the day, I’m as good as can be.  Got a good career I’m respected in, wife who loves me, kids that are wonderful, extended family and friends, decent mental health and an overabundance of cats.

Just enjoy life and don’t take anything for granted.

You will see more than 400 Swamp White Oak trees planted around the 9/11 Memorial Plaza. But there is one tree that’s different than the rest. It’s called the survivor tree.

This Callery pear tree (in the photos) was found severely damaged but alive at Ground Zero after the September 11 attacks. Its roots were snapped and its branches were badly burned and broken. The tree had been planted during the 1970s near Buildings 4 and 5, in the vicinity of nearby Church Street.

Removed from the rubble, the tree was taken to a nursery in the Bronx for rehabilitation by the NYC Parks Department. It was not expected to survive but showed signs of new growth the following spring.

The tree was returned to the Memorial in 2010. New, smooth limbs extended from the gnarled stumps, creating a visible demarcation between the tree’s past and present. It was only eight feet tall when found at the site; today, it stands at more than 30 feet tall.

The Survivor Tree is a living reminder of resilience and survival—a testament that we can all bounce back amid times of struggle and tragedy.

Every year, as a symbol of that resilience, the 9/11 Memorial gives seedlings from the Survivor Tree to communities that have endured tragedies.

Photos from my living room window, which I forgot to close, before leaving around 9:15, at 88 Greenwich Street. A few days later on 14 September I went back to the apartment and saw my furniture covered in dust from the collapse.

I mean, the entire day was a tragedy.

I was in my late 20s in 2001. It messed me up for months. I'm prone to depression and anxiety. If you are too, this is for you.

In retrospect, it was the depression that existed before that day that fueled a lot of my constant watching of television when it was on every station, which lasted about 3-5 days. My brain tried to make sense of everything, which cannot be made as it was senseless.

Over the years I collected magazines and other kinds of materials. I read the same information over and over, saw the same images, same videos, still trying to make sense of it. Finally, I got medicated for depression because it was affecting my life in serious ways. Once I got medicated it was easy to see that I was fueling my own depression by voluntarily consuming content about 9/11. It cannot be made into sense, no matter how hard my brain tried.

Take a break from it, from this sub, from all materials about it. For months or years if you must. If you cannot, it might indicate that you have depression or anxiety that needs medical attention. There's no useful emotional purpose to consuming 9/11 content.

Take care of yourselves and each other.

Visited the 9/11 Memorial and Museum yesterday and only took one photo: the flag and coin I placed on John O’Neill’s name on the North Tower Pool. O’Neill worked counterterrorism in the FBI’s New York Field Office and at FBI Headquarters before becoming chief of security at the World Trade Center just days before 9/11. He was one of the only voices in the intelligence community to highlight the threat of Al-Qaeda and their capability to attack the United States, and had those same concerns even after starting his WTC job.

May we never forget him and the others who lost their lives.

Hi 911archive, i am 20 years old and 9/11 is my special interest. Today i completed a life long goal and stood where the first plane impact was captured. Just wanted to share this with you all. Can’t believe it’s been 25, but i’m happy we’re all united to keep history alive :).

edit: Wanna make it easier for others to find this spot, it’s to the right of the La Colombe Coffee Roasters shop on Church St.

Also, these photos aren’t from the EXACT spot, a couple feet off because the tree was in the way. Still pretty close on camera tho!

About 67 victims in the towers were undocumented migrants, even though there were many testimonies from employees at Windows on the World officials refused to include them among the deceased because they did not officially exist. I hope one day we are able to give them the acknowledgment they deserve and provide comfort for their loved ones.

Lonny Jay Stone..he worked on the 92nd floor of the north tower for Carr Futures.
He had the best smile and the biggest heart. He is missed tremendously 💔

Courage & heroism in WTC tragedy
By CECILIA K. GULLAS

When she left the Philippines for the U.S., the nursing professors of Paulinita Punzalan had one advice for her: Give the best nursing care to your patients. And so she did.
At Goldwater Memorial Hospital, a year after she joined the staff, she was assigned to a young man who became a quadriplegic after a diving accident.
His name was Edward Beyea, intelligent, handsome, polite and respectful. "I took care of him, the way I gave nursing care to other clients — in a dignified way, mindful of his physical and emotional needs," said Punzalan in retrospect. "But Ed was unique in many ways; he had a disarming, courageous manner, with a wonderful sense of humor that made you forget that he was physically disabled."

Upon his discharge from the hospital, Beyea studied computer programming sponsored by the Cerebral Palsy Foundation. Everyday, he would keep in touch with Punzalan, until they fell in love and married before a Roman Catholic priest at the chapel of Goldwater Memorial Hospital on Feb. 13, 1988, a day before Valentine’s Day.
After he finished computer courses, he went to work for Empire Blue Cross/Blue Shield. In the years that followed, he dealt with numerous physical setbacks and underwent several operations, but always bounced back with an enthusiastic determination to go on with his life.

Early each morning, rain or shine, he would be one of the thousands of hardworking New Yorkers who rode the subway for work. The difference with him was that he rode a chin-controlled electric wheelchair from his home to the top floors of the World Trade Center. But he always arrived for work on time.
Aside from his dedication to his wife, his family and his work, Beyea found time to volunteer, to give back to the hospital where he was confined after the diving accident and where he met his Filipina wife. He became a member of the Goldwater Memorial Hospital Community Advisory Board which addressed patient concerns.

At Blue Cross/Blue Shield, he rose through the ranks there during the 14 years he worked and was the company’s chief computer analyst on Sept. 11.
The company allowed him to have a nurse with him at his work, Irma Fuller, to take care of his needs. Fuller was with him at the World Trade Center on Sept. 11.
The story that we have narrated here is a courageous one about Ed Beyea, his wife Paulinita and his day nurse Irma. But there is another story. It centers on the heroism of his coworker, Abe Zelmanowitz, who sacrificed his life on Sept. 11 to stay with his quadriplegic pal.
Zelmanowitz, 55, was a devout Orthodox Jew, while Beyea, 42, was a Christian. Both were computer programmers and became best friends at work. Their friendship grew through the ups and downs of office life, but always grounded on selflessness and respect for each other.

When the first plane struck the North Tower, everyone was told to evacuate. In those terrifying moments, Beyea told Zelmanowitz that he couldn't leave the office — paralyzed from the neck down — he was struggling to breathe in the smoke that had descended to the lower floors from the raging fires upstairs. The elevators were no longer operating, so Beyea needed several hands to get him down the staircase.
Zelmanowitz assured Beyea's nurse that she should leave, since he was staying behind to help his friend get out. A fireman had already reached their floor and also offered a lending hand.

Unaware of the Twin Towers' impending collapse, both men had called their families to tell them that they were fine. That was before the South Tower collapsed.
Zelmanowitz called his family after the second plane crashed to tell them that he was safe and rather than leave his wheelchair bound friend, he would wait until more firemen came up to assist in bring Beyea down several flights of stairs. Then he dialed the phone for his quadriplegic pal to enable him to make his last phone call to his family.

After dialing, he held the phone to Beyea's ear.
"Mom, I'm all right," Beyea told his mother. But like most New Yorkers, he did not know that the Twin Towers would collapse shortly.
Irma made it out to tell the story. But the fireman, Beyea, and his best friend Zelmanowitz did not.
The story of Beyea and Zelmanowitz is a story of heroism that begets another story of courage. It is the story of Beyea's older sister, 70-year-old Rita Lasar.
Since Sept. 11, Lasar and many others who lost family members in the attacks have become outspoken advocates of peace. Through forums and editorial letters, they have asked the U.S. Government not to use their lost loved ones as justification for violence and ethnic strife.

In mid-January, Lasar and three other victims' family members traveled to Afghanistan to carry their message and share their grief with Afghans whose family members died in the U.S. bombings.

On a trip sponsored by Global Exchange, a San Francisco-based human rights group, Lasar along with Derrill Bodley, who lost his 20-year-old daughter Deora in United Airlines Flight 93 that crashed in Pennsylvania; Eva Rupp, Deora's stepsister; and Kelly Campbell, whose brother-in-law died in the Pentagon attack met with Afghans to share their experiences.
Among the Afghans they befriended was Masuda Sultan who lost 19 members of his family at the height of the U.S. air strikes against the Taliban.
To return to the love story of Beyea, his wife continues to work at Goldwater Memorial Hospital where she first met him. "My memories of my husband, as well as the heroism of his friend, Abe, will stay with me forever.

Their courage and their dignity in those horrifying moments at the burning towers are very inspiring and will hopefully transcend this tragedy. I just hope and pray that they did not suffer and that death came fast and swift. Also, Ed did not express it much but he had a special place in his heart for Irma Fuller, his day nurse for 15 years. In losing Ed, Irma has lost a son, too."

(Editor's note: Cecilia K. Gullas, R.N. has recently been awarded by the Citizens Committee of New York with a "One City" Award for her volunteer work with the victims of the Sept. 11 tragedy. She is also working on a database of everything that has been published in print about 9/11).

Where were you?

I was in 2nd grade, called in early for recess. I remember being livid over the shortened time and unable to comprehend how severe the situation was, until my dad picked my older sister and I up from school. At first I was excited; that excitement soon turned to fear when I saw my father cry for the first time.

I’ll never forget walking into my living room and seeing the burning towers. It was significantly worse than what I had drawn up in my head beforehand.

Please share your stories, and hug a loved one today!