Remembering the kindness of strangers – September 11

911: Never Forget

September 11, 2001, Morning

For years, I have shared with many of you, my blog and social media friends, my story of the morning and afternoon of the attacks on America on September 11, 2001. For those who may not have read it, you can click here.

I’ve shared the miracle that I took a different route to work that day and instead of walking through the WTC, I taxi’d around it. I spoke of the shock and the anger and the different emotions throughout that morning as I realized that this was not another boiler explosion but an outright attack. I spoke of the heroism of the first responders and the leaders I saw demonstrate courage and strength in the midst of a crisis that day. I shared my walk through dust and debris across the Brooklyn Bridge and my sense of anger and frustration. And I mentioned that I did not have a clue what I would do when I got over that bridge to Brooklyn.

13 years later, I find myself planning for a trip to New York again, tomorrow, September 12. I am going to celebrate the marriage of the daughter of a good friend, in Brooklyn. I have never publicly shared what happened after I crossed the bridge but I want to share this year. As I celebrate love and union in Brooklyn, I remember compassion, and unity, after such a horrible event changed our lives forever.

September 11, 2001 around 12 noon

When I first walked over into Brooklyn, I remember thinking how ironic it was that this was the first time I had been in the borough. In fact, it was the first time I had left Manhattan. Sad, I know. I had dozens of friends, especially many from my class at Wharton, that lived in Manhattan and, like me, lived a life that was primarily stretching from Lower Manhattan to Midtown. The adventurers in our group lived on the Upper East Side and some even in Harlem but none that I knew were in Brooklyn (tons of them live there now).

A mobile cell tower had been set up near the Marriott Hotel and several people were nearby using the signal to contact family, friends, and loved ones. I started to make calls and confirmed that all of my friends had headed North from Tribeca and were in the “safe zone” north of lower Manhattan. As I stood wondering where I would go and where I would sleep (my clothing was all in the Embassy Suites on the other side of the World Trade Center), I received a call from my friend Kim, checking to see that I was OK. I told her my situation and she made a call to a friend who grew up in brooklyn.

Her friend called a friend and about 20 minutes later I was walking with a perfect stranger to a brownstone in Brooklyn. We had different backgrounds and experiences that morning but the emotions were similar. Along with his girlfriend, we sat in the living room watching events continue to unfold including further buildings falling and information coming out about the attackers.

After a couple of hours, his girlfriend (who is as you have figured out by now 4 X removed from my friend Kim) drove me to her mother’s house. Yes, this was another first. I was driving to Queens. I was to spend the night after the attacks sleeping in a twin sized bed in the room of a boy who I believe was around 8 years old. The room was full of pictures and art work and school awards…. a stunning vignette of innocence in direct and stark contrast to the horrors of the day.

This family that didn’t know me from Adam (pardon the expression) picked me up when I was at my angriest and despairing point, took me to Target to get some basics, fed me and made me feel comfortable in that twin bed in that child’s room in the comfortable house, in the family neighborhood of Queens.

It took about two days for me to get back to Chicago and that trip involved making my way by train to Philadelphia, and sharing a van with more strangers for a drive back to Chicago. Perhaps some day I will share that story as well, and maybe I will talk about my return to Manhattan on September 22. The fact is, there are so many memories, good and bad, and some are housed in the back corners of my mind for my use only. This year, I choose to celebrate the memory of those we lost by thinking of the good that came out of tragedy The unity of a city and the nation. And the compassion of the little boy who slept on the sofa so that I could have his twin bed and try to sleep away the memories of what I saw on the other side of New York.

However you choose to remember, make today a day for doing something kind for a stranger, helping out, giving back, showing compassion. Make a difference to someone. That’s how we honor fallen heros and innocent victims. That’s how we try to move on and bring good from the bad.

Be well. Lead On.

Adam