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So finally somebody came in and just started yelling at us, "Get out, get out of the building. Get out now, go south." So we came out of the building on Greenwich, and we started south. I remember turning to people and saying, "Brace yourself, because we're gonna see this for the first time." I mean we had no idea what we were going to see.

There was some guy with a walkie-talkie who was sort of barking at us, "Go faster. Go faster." And I remember I turned to him and said, "Why do we have to go faster?" And he looked and he said, "Lady, when that second tower comes down, you'll know why." And literally seconds later everything started to shake.

At that point I turned and I faced it, and I just surrendered my life.
Courtney Cowart
Ground Zero New York
September 11, 2001

We were having to lay the casualties on the ground near the third corridor entrance, on plastic sheets, but we were in the lush green courtyard called Ground Zero. Each chaplain, out of respect for the person's privacy, first asked if they would like them to pray for them. Then they asked what their tradition was in order to pray most meaningfully. No one refused prayer; only one man who had only smoke inhalation directed us to go ahead and move to someone worse off than he. I often started with the 23rd Psalm, "He makes me to lie down in green pastures, he restores my soul." People repeated with you the Lord's Prayer or any passages they knew as you prayed with them.
Colonel Janet Horton
The Pentagon Chaplaincy, Washington, D. C.

We were across the street from J & R Music World, and he took me over to a tree and showed me all kinds of boots in the tree. He specifically wanted me to go over and see those boots. He said, "Do you know the story of these boots?" And I said, "No, tell me about them." With tears in his eyes he said, "These are the boots of people who came in the first wave to help out. They didn't have the luxury of changing in the firehouse like I did. They had to get changed on the way." There were mountain climbing boots, work boots. There was even a pair of high heels. All kinds of shoes. All kinds of boots. And he said, "These guys had to change when they got here. And because they were in the first wave, they won't be coming back for their boots."
The Rev. Lyndon Harris
Priest-in-Charge, St. Paul's Chapel, New York

Late in the afternoon, the few dinner rolls we could find were distributed by colonels and sergeants. This breaking of the bread, well, it felt very much like a special Communion. Then the cell phones were passed to anyone who hadn't called their loved ones. People with no money or car keys or transportation home were helped by passersby. This was the best of human character. This was a bold manifestation of the American Spirit. We were all of one mind and one purpose.
Colonel Janet Horton
The Pentagon Chaplaincy, Washington, D. C.

As I walked toward the site, I walked down Church Street and prayed for the courage to stay together, because at 22 I'd helped build the World Trade Center. My thoughts were racing and I was kind of mixed up. But the 23rd Psalm came into my head. [In] the dust and the ashes and debris, all I could hear was, "As I walk through the valley of the shadow of death, I fear no evil."…

The first body was a lady in a business suit. Middle-aged. It was remarkable. She wasn't even dirty. We laid her down on the stretcher and fixed her eyes and her lapels. I remember the firefighter on the back of the stretcher fell, but he lifted his arms up over his head as he went down, so the body wouldn't hit the ground.

After that I was sitting on the curb with my head in my hands. It was the middle of the night. That's when the Salvation Army kids appeared in their sneakers with their pink hair and their belly buttons showing and bandannas tied around their faces. One was a little girl pushing a shopping cart full of eyewash through the muck. They came with water and cold towels and took my boots off and put dry socks on my feet. …

When I was finally relieved and started to walk out, I thought to myself, Joe, you did pretty good. You did your part. You can go home and get back to normal. Then my mind flashed to the hostages coming home from Iran, and the ticker-tape parade when the Yankees won the World Series. I had always thought that's what New York's about. Those kind of heroes. But it was the little girl with the pink hair that became my hero that night. Not Tino Martinez.

And then, when I got to Houston Street, a bunch more of these kids, all pierced and tattooed with multicolored hair, had made a little makeshift stage. They started to cheer as we came out, and that was it for me. I never identified with those people before, but I started crying, and I cried for four blocks. I can't tell you - I was taken so off-guard by their behavior.

I've been a construction worker my whole life, and I've always felt I was viewed by the public as a pest, as rude. And now I was so vulnerable.

I got home and saw my wife, who asked, "Joe, are you okay?" "Sure!" I said. You know, the bravado came back. But she said, "Are you sure? Go look in the mirror." There I was with my filthy dirty face, and just two clean lines down from my eyes. You become like a child after you get banged around a bit. She cried with me. Gave me something to eat. Drew a bath….I don't take baths.
Joseph Bradley
Operating Engineer

One of the deeply moving things we felt at Ground Zero in the Pentagon on September 11th was a sense of oneness of purpose. The sole focus of all efforts was that every thought, every action, every energy was centered on what could be done to support the rescue of anyone in need in any way. Even though you saw military of every rank, from major general to young enlisted service members, if something needed to be done, rank was of no significance. Every task was accomplished swiftly, cheerfully, by whomever was closest. Civilians and military moved as one to the point of need. General and specialist, side by side, lifted medical supplies, filled water bottles for firemen and rescue workers. Chaplains prayed and comforted, holding a casualty's hand on one side, while a nurse or physician's assistant held the casualty's hand on the other side, and a doc treated a burn or splinted a leg. Those with only smoke inhalation directed helping professionals to attend those first who were worse off. Each moment showed a selflessness and oneness of spirit. I have never seen anything, anywhere, before like this. There was no room for fear, because no one's thought was on themselves.
Colonel Janet Horton
The Pentagon Chaplaincy, Washington, D. C.

I remember just wanting to do anything. It didn't matter that I was there and working. I just wanted to do something for what I call the heroes inside there doing the job that really needed to be done. I just wanted to try in my own way to make it better for them, to make it a little easier for them. And if … we had to clear debris out, or dump a lot of the dust and soot and wash down buildings and do whatever we had to do, it didn't matter, because it was just something we needed to do. We needed to help them.
Anthony Palmeri
New York Department of Sanitation

One of the times I went out I encountered a firefighter walking down Broadway. He was exhausted. He'd been working since the attack basically, and this was 24 hours later.… He asked if he could come in St. Paul's to take a nap. I told him no. Not yet, because I didn't know if the building was safe. I told him about the Millennium Hilton…. That exchange haunted me for a while, because I remembered this exhausted firefighter wanting to come into the chapel, and I still, I still remember saying no. And that probably had a lot to do with my motivation to say yes later.
The Rev. Lyndon Harris
Priest-in-Charge, St. Paul's Chapel, New York

Excuse me. Can I please just say thank you? I just want to say thank you to the officers if I may. I've just been released from the burn unit at Cornell Hospital. I was on the 84th floor. I just want to tell you and the officers, thank you. I am blessed.

I saw you guys when I got close to the 20th floor. That's where I saw all the emergency workers going up. That was the heroic path. But now? What is happening to me? Before this I'd never been to a hospital before. Now you can't get me away from them. I just want to go and visit all the others. All the others in there. And now work? Well, it's just not important to me to be a trader. I guess I'm still healing. I am still looking for my places to heal. Could I help volunteer down here?
Manu
A Trader in the World Trade Center

There was a moment that I had to decide yes or no. And I think each and every one of us at some point in our lives perhaps has a decision like that to make. And not even something that dramatic. Every day we have decisions like that to make. Yes, we are going to be open to the Spirit, or no, I'm too afraid.

One of the things that stood out in my mind, and often comes to my mind when I'm trying to make a hard decision -- it sounds kind of cheesy, but it's a little poster that somebody gave me once. It says that when you come to the edge of all the light you've been given, having faith means that you take that next step, trusting that God will either provide something for you to stand on, or that God will give you wings to fly. Either way it's okay. But you still have to take the step.
The Rev. Lyndon Harris
Priest-in-Charge, St. Paul's Chapel, New York

On September 15th I headed downtown to Ground Zero. Edgy. Jumpy. Skittish. Brittle. I walked toward the Lexington line. Down the steps I went, and boarded the first train. There, in my car, on one of the benches, sat a skinny wizened Sikh wearing an elaborate oyster-gray silk turban. No one would sit on the same seat with him, and tears streamed silently down his gentle tanned, craggy face. I strode, a bit self-righteously, straight for him, and plunked myself down immediately beside him, receiving more than one glare in the process. The mood of the subterranean public was electric, and you could feel the tension down to your fingertips. Two stops later, the Sikh slowly rose and headed towards the doors, but first he stopped and did something that drew the attention of every human being in that car.

As the train de-accelerated, he reached slowly into his pocket and drew out a crumpled dollar bill. Then he stooped over a Hispanic mother and her child sitting by the doors. Into the baby's little fist he gently tucked the dollar, looking straight into the woman's eyes. Directly across from me, she looked back quizzically, on the verge of protesting, when I blurted out to her urgently, "He needs to do this."

She paused for a moment and replied, "So we know he is not cruel?"

"Yes. So we know he is not cruel."

And then we were the ones with tears streaming down our faces.
Courtney Cowart
New York Ground Zero
September 15, 2001

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