My 9/11 Story: Paying Kindness Forward

I still remember that beautiful sunny Tuesday morning. I had just moved into the city and started my freshman year at NYU Stern School of Business a little over 2 weeks prior. I remember being in the shower getting ready for class when I heard my roommate scream, “Tina, come out here!” Half asleep still and hair soaked, I sauntered over to her television. She pointed in utter shock at the screen showing the first tower up in flames after being hit by a plane.

I stood there lifeless in shock watching the breaking news unable to register that this had happened a mile and half south of me. Soon thereafter, emails were flooding in regarding classes and all school activities being cancelled. Efforts were being made to keep students safe and away from the smoke and ash. My entire dorm was in frenzy. I couldn’t call my mom to even tell her I was safe because phones were down and repeating the now all-too familiar robotic message callously repeating, “All circuits are busy.”

Not knowing what to do next, my roommates and I decided to try to be useful in a time of tragedy. We ran out as quickly as we could towards the hospital formerly known as St. Vincent’s to see if we could donate blood. And in the midst of the frenzy outside the hospital, there was suddenly a deep silence that fell onto the crowds on 6th Avenue as we witnessed the collapse of the South Tower. An iconic emblem of the freedom that America offered tumbled right in front of my eyes.

Upon its fall, throngs of people became nervous as they searched for bodies of loved ones they couldn’t reach. Sounds of ambulances and fire engines shrilled as they neared the hospital bringing in scores of mangled bodies. Smoke and dust flew from all directions and billowed the sky. In an effort to curtail the mayhem, St. Vincent’s turned us away and we returned to our dorm helpless, hopeless and worried for the well-being of our nation.

That afternoon I was able to email my family and let them know I was safe. I also checked in with some friends over AOL Instant Messenger (yes, old school!) and connected with a new friend who I was very concerned about since I knew she had asthma and was living even closer to the towers than I was. I asked her to come to my dorm and stay with me in an effort to prevent an asthma attack from all the smoke she was inhaling. Even though she struggled to walk through all the smoke and ash, she took me up on the offer and stayed the night with me. 

The morning of September 12th I wanted to go home to New Jersey but all the tunnels remained closed due to the state of emergency. So my friend asked me to come to her uncle’s home with her. The next morning we walked uptown and took the subway into Queens where her uncle picked us up. We stayed with him for one day until her parents could fetch us and bring us to their home far out on Long Island. I stayed there for the next 5 days until lower Manhattan was deemed safe and school reopened. And from her home, I was able to finally call and speak with my mother, who was worried sick by this point, to tell her that I was safe and out of the city.

So, why am I recounting my 9/11 story to you today? Not just because it is 9/11 today but because it is a story of love, of warmth, of togetherness in spite of the hate that the attacks represented. It is a story that shows caring and concern for others in a time of need. Even though I felt helpless in terms of the larger tragedy, I was able to help one person not have an asthma attack and she was able to pay that kindness forward by welcoming me into her home, a place safe and far-removed from the smoke and the terror.

And that’s what we all need. Whether we are chronically ill or not, we all that need that kindness, that safe place to just be. We all need that compassion and that recognition that we matter especially in times of tragedy, whether it be 9/11, the devastating hurricanes our fellow Americans have been facing or even times of back-breaking family/personal issues. It doesn’t matter what we look like, what religion we practice, where our families are from or what our sexual orientation or gender is. What matters is that we love, that we come together and that we treat each other with the humanity that we all deserve. 

And to me, that’s what 9/11 should be about in our minds. It should be about remembering the heroes who sacrificed their lives for ours. It should be about seeing the humanity in everyone and it should be about celebrating resilience and community in the face of utter catastrophe. 

~~ To all the heroes of 9/11, we will never forget your sacrifices. Love, light and peace always ~~

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