25 Years Later - Remembering 9/11 - Part 2

Frank Carroll

Responded at his local Red Cross in Hanover, Maryland

As REO for Mid-Atlantic Region on the early morning of 9/11 was flying on a small USAir plane from BWI to Newark to bring up an interim Exec to Jersey City. I had done this flight often leaving BWI around 8am. We arrived in EWR area around 9am and could see NYC buildings as we circled (clockwise) for several minutes. While we could see the burning towers we did not know at that time what we were looking at or why. We had a few announcements from the pilot, but they did not have much info. After several minutes we turned counterclockwise and began to head southwest. Knowing the area, I saw we were flying over Philly. The pilot announced we would be landing in Atlantic City. After landing around 10am the pilot announced they did not know what was going on, but we needed to get off the plane. I was on the phone and pager immediately, talked to the office and heard some of what was going on. Called travel agency then and got a rental car (we were lucky). Drove from Atlantic City back to BWI, cell service was on and off during the trip. After getting to BWI got my car and headed to our nearby office. Back at office (around 3pm) saw what was going on and started to contact NHQ and Chapter Offices. It was an interesting day!

Kathleen Krawulski

Blood Drive in Parma Ohio

I was on the early shift at a 2-shift blood drive at UH Parma Medical Center. At 10:30 am we had 15 pints of blood. When we closed 2 hours after the 2nd shift ended, we had 185 pints of blood. They had to send a second truck with more beds and supplies. Almost all the first shift staff stayed to work the 2nd shift. The donors were lined up down the hallway to the hospital entrance. It was like that at all the blood drives for the next month. A time of unity and brotherhood in our country.

Marilyn Vineyard

Chapter Exec. – SW Michigan

The buckets of cash being brought to the chapter prompted the local sheriff to assign a plain clothes deputy to be in our lobby every day for about 2 weeks for safety reasons; the number of calls and requests for presentations about what Red Cross response was and what the general population could do to help AND the outpouring of regular and new volunteers taking on more assignments whether deploying to the sites in NY or elsewhere OR helping locally with phone calls, sorting cash, etc.

Steve McAndrew

International delegate for American Red Cross based in Panama, at the IFRC Pan American Disaster Response Unit 

I was an international delegate for American Red Cross based in Panama, at the International Federation of Red Cross (IFRC) Pan American Disaster Response Unit (PADRU) on September 11, 2001. On September 12, a small twin-engine turboprop charter plane operated by Aero Ferinco crashed near Chichen Itza in the Yucatan Peninsula, Mexico. The accident killed all 19 people on board, which included 16 American tourists from the Seattle, Washington area, along with one Mexican tour guide and two Mexican crew members. The 16 American passengers were University of Washington "Husky" football fans. They were on a Caribbean cruise aboard Holland America's MS Maasdam and had taken a side excursion flight to visit the ancient Mayan ruins at Chichen Itza. 

Under the U.S. Aviation Disaster Family Assistance Act, the American Red Cross maintains a dedicated protocol to assist families of aviation disasters upon their return home. For the families based in the Seattle and King County area, the local American Red Cross chapter provided standard post-disaster care, which included meeting grieving families at local airports, providing local crisis counseling, and connecting them with community-based support groups. But all flights to and from the USA were grounded at this time. 

I was deployed from Panama to Mexico as American Red Cross to provide support to the survivor’s family members. Some of the victim’s family were on the cruise but did not take the side tour. I was not trained for that work, but my boss in ARC HQ did not hesitate to tell me to go and help with what I could and I did not hesitate to get on a plane to Mexico. The Mexican Red Cross also helped. We did whatever we could, from helping with hotel reservations, taxis, interpretation with authorities and any other thing needed. 

Because of the raw emotions, national trauma and 24/7 news coverage of the 9/11 attacks that dominated all coverage, the crash in Mexico garnered little to no public attention. All attention was in New York, Washington and Pennsylvania. Yet, American Red Cross had to help these people in Yucatan Mexico…and we did. 

For the families we dealt with, it was and never will be forgotten. We had a great ARC team that went to the morgue a few days prior to help the families identify victims that were burned beyond recognition. I remember a surreal moment, when I was sitting with the surviving family members, in the Cancun airport, as they were waiting to finally fly home after flights resumed. All the television monitors were repeating images of the twin towers falling. I was sitting next to the parents of one of the victims, and I didn’t know what to say. So, I didn’t say anything. I bought some coffee for them, and we watched in silence. The news coverage was starting to recognize the 9/11 victims. In the terminal, passengers were crowding the gate area, conversations, and energy of the room swirled around about the 9/11 attacks. 

Many tourists were inconvenienced and commenting on the situation as flights were able to fly again. But the parents I was sitting with, were in a kind of daze. Me too. I was proud to be part of the Red Cross at that moment, because we were in the places nobody was going, helping people who are forgotten, and doing what others do not, in the middle of chaos. I felt like the Red Cross was the only entity that cared about these people at that moment. This is what we are supposed to do. Cover the needs that others do not, for the forgotten people, all over the world, no matter what is going on in other places.

Donna Taylor

Retired Chapter Manager – Responded to Disaster Services at NHQ 

I was called in to HQ to assist. I spent a lot of time on the phone responding to the families of victims and participating in the daily problem-solving issues. 9/11 was my final disaster response.

Helen DuBois

San Francisco, CA - On FEMA assignment in Honolulu, Hawaii to head up a workshop for emergency managers from across the Hawaiian Islands

After 20 years with ARC, I went to work for FEMA Region IX in San Francisco, CA. On 9/11, I was in Honolulu on a FEMA assignment to head up a workshop for emergency managers from across the Hawaiian Islands. The phone in my hotel room woke me up from a dead sleep, very early that morning. My daughter in a panic, calling me from her home near San Francisco, urging me to turn on the TV! NYC was being bombed! I groggily turned on the TV just in time to see the second plane hit the second tower. Hurriedly dressing, I sped to the FEMA office on a military base nearby, where we were told to park along the street and wait at the security gate. The base had immediately been locked down. As each of us was vetted, we were allowed into our offices and briefed on how to proceed with whatever tasks would be needed in this emergency. Needless to say, the workshop was scrapped, and assignments were given to each of us, some to report to the Hawaii Emergency Headquarters in Diamond Head, some to relay requests at the office. We were a busy crew. 

The eerie lack of sound was my first impression. No planes were in the air! That familiar sound was resumed somewhat on day 3, when 2 military flights a day were authorized to the mainland. Who knew that essential medical tests were done in Seattle for patients in Hawaii, blood supplies came from the mainland, and tourists needed cash from the ATMs to pay for their extended stays! There were so many reasons that the tie with the mainland had to be maintained. It was quite a heads up on how tied together the islands and the mainland are! As we fielded requests and dealt with ways to resolve them, a process emerged, and little by little life returned to as normal as possible. 

I was given a seat on one of the first passenger flights from Hawaii, and I can tell you, the line of fellow passengers was an uneasy one. But as the flight crew came in, they each stopped along the line, reassuring us, chatting with a few and presenting us all with a sense of calm. Needless to say, the flight was perfect, and the captain shared little reports with us along the way, turbulent spots, beautiful cloud formations, and a perfect landing at SFO in San Francisco. 

Elizabeth Wixom

NY Penn Region Blood Services 

I had been working at the NY Penn Region Blood Services in Rochester NY for 1-1/2 years. That day I witnessed the planes hit the towers on TV while still at home but still didn't comprehend what the day would bring. At first; I tried to just do my regular job, since I really didn't know what else to do. But soon realized that was impossible, so I went looking for someone to tell where I could best help. Looking out the window, there were cars lining down the road as far as you could see. So, I was asked to head down to the donor room to help in any way I could. To say the room was chaos would be an understatement. The waiting area was filled with people, and the lobby was also starting to fill up. The volunteers at the desk were so overwhelmed, so I just started taking down names of people as they came in. At this time, we were assuming there would be a great need for blood, so we asked people if they knew their blood type and if they were O negative they were prioritized. 

The thing that impressed me most was even with all the chaos, everyone was just so patient and appreciative of being able to do something to help. People waited for several hours to donate. Local groceries brought food and beverages for the donors and staff. People stayed until well after midnight. But the person I remember most of all was a young Muslim woman in a hijab who sat alone in a chair and quietly waited to donate; her head bowed in silence. I think that was one of the bravest things I witnessed that day.

Samuella Becker

New York City – Red Cross 9/11 PR volunteer served12-hour shifts while VP at NYC PR agency, Stanton Crenshaw; she later served "on call" for 9 years

Article in the Observer, 10/01/2001:  Heroes of P.R. by Ralph Gardner Jr.

One might not immediately think of women in public relations among the heroes helping the city recover from the World Trade Center tragedy. But a small army of them, equipped with their cell phones and Rolodexes, have flocked to Red Cross headquarters on the Upper West Side since the tragedy to serve as spokeswomen, escort TV crews around the crash site, write press releases, answer the phones and even get coffee. 

They included Karen Bailey, Glamour magazine’s director of public relations; Jamie Drogin, an associate at Burson-Marsteller; Laura van Straaten, an independent television producer; and Samuella Becker, vice president at Stanton Crenshaw whose clients range from CIT Group Inc., the financial-services giant, to uDate, the world’s largest Internet dating company.

At a recent meeting of the women, Anne Sommers, the American Red Cross of Greater New York’s official director of public relations, said she looked around the room and thought: “This is like a sorority party [where] everybody is attractive, articulate and well-connected.”

And Type A. Recalling the multitasking talent of one female flack, Ms. Sommers said: “While getting an NBC producer on the line, she was cleaning my desk at the same time.”

Rosemary Callahan

3 years old in 2001, now Regional Client Care Manager with the Red Cross in Missoula, Montana

I was just three and a half years old, but I remember. On our living room TV, I watched the news broadcast the footage of the towers falling. My mom was calling my aunt (her sister) who lived, and still lives, in Washington Square Village. My dad had been sent home from his job at the Atlanta VA, and I knew it was strange for him to be home in the middle of the morning on a weekday. Thankfully, my aunt was safe. But after that day, none of the grown-ups in my life acted the same. They all got older overnight. I may have been too young to understand what happened, but I wasn't too young to understand the undeniable fear that my parents and so many adults around me felt. In fact, I felt afraid-- of what, I didn't know. Now, I am twenty-eight. Older people sometimes speak to me and my cohorts about 9/11 like we're too young to understand. But we remember. This is a part of our lives, too. 

Lauri Hanna

Oklahoma City Chapter - From helping victims recovering from the OKC Bombing to deploying to New York City 

My first job after college was with the American Red Cross of Central Oklahoma, supporting families still recovering from the Oklahoma City bombing. That led me to working with the local press whenever we responded to fires and tornadoes that came through our state regularly. The May 3, 1999 F5 tornado was my first big disaster. It remains the deadliest our state has seen, with 40 fatalities, 675 injuries, and 1,800 homes destroyed.

Living in tornado alley, I never left Oklahoma to help other communities recover after a disaster. Volunteers always seemed to come to us. That changed on September 11, 2001.

I was running a few minutes late for work that morning when the radio announcer said a small plane had just hit the World Trade Center. Just as I walked into the Red Cross building, I watched another plane hit the second tower on our lobby television. That was when it became clear this was no accident, and our chapter went to work gathering information to support the national response. Teams of volunteers began assembling for deployment almost immediately. I wanted to go too, but I was the only person on our team who worked with media, so I needed to wait.

Just before Thanksgiving, I arrived in New York City for a two-week post. I was shuttled from the airport to the Red Cross chapter in the Bronx to get processed, receive my ID, and get my assignment. I spent my days in different communications roles, helping get information to families through the media. It was strange being in a city I had visited many times, now marked so clearly by what had happened two months earlier. Stranger still was seeing it decorated for Christmas, life moving forward while the recovery work was still very much active. Even in November, the smell of burning was distinct enough that I can still recall it. At one site, I had to walk through a decontamination zone just to enter and exit, because we were so close to where the towers had collapsed.

In two weeks, I made lifelong friends among the volunteers and staff who came from across the country. We worked long, hard hours, and our sites changed every few days, along with the hotels we stayed in. The Red Cross put us up wherever they could get a discount. My first hotel was old and drafty, with lights that flickered on their own. Later I stayed near Times Square in a hotel that felt worlds away from the work we were doing. Over those two weeks, I worked at four different locations across lower Manhattan, including an old AT&T building, Pier 94, and a respite center at St. John's University Manhattan campus.

Even with how hard and stressful the work was, we found time in the evenings to explore the city together. We saw the Radio City Rockettes' Christmas show and walked to Rockefeller Plaza to see the tree.

One day stands out clearly. I was assigned to accompany a family for an interview with the BBC, overlooking what everyone called "The Pit." I remember preparing them for what to expect, then being crammed into a tiny room with an even smaller balcony, reporters and a camera crew all trying to fit into a shot that also captured what was left of the World Trade Center behind us.

At one site, celebrities showed up to serve food alongside everyone else. Every experience felt surreal, and by the time I flew home, I knew I had been changed by it.

That experience shaped how I've worked and communicated in every job since. It taught me how quickly strangers can pull together, how much stress a person can actually carry, and how much it matters to show up for the work in front of you. Whenever I've seen something go wrong in a workplace, it almost always comes back to communication, in how it happens, when it happens, and who it reaches.

25 years later, I still carry those two weeks with me. It's strange to realize that something that shaped who I am today is, to my teenage children, just a page in a history book. They can't fully understand what it was like to live through it, and I hope with everything in me that they never have to. 

The following stories were collected via an event survey following ARCAN’s 9/11 Lessons Learned webinar. It is an anonymous survey, so unless the participant included their name in the story, we weren’t able to capture who submitted these beautiful stories.

PLEASE NOTE: If your story is listed as anonymous and you would like us to use your name, please email us at info@redcrossalumni.org. Include your name, where you responded on 9/11 or where you were then if you didn’t respond with Red Cross.

Anonymous

Disaster Spiritual Care - respite centers around Ground Zero, the D-Mort/T-Mort and the Landfill on Staten Island

Having led the Disaster Spiritual Care team through the mid-weeks of September and early October, I had the honor of serving three distinct areas, the three respite centers around Ground Zero, the D-Mort/T-Mort and the Landfill on Staten Island. Key memories - the road to the landfill as debris from Ground Zero was brought to massive piles where aircraft parts and tower parts were piled before massive conveyor belts with hundreds of FBI agents all in biohazard suits standing sorting and sifting at every conveyor belt. The road was scattered with a trail all the way from the water barges to the top of the hill and the trail was a trail of shoes all the way up. My driver said, "did you notice the shoes?" When I looked, I realized these were symbolic of what I saw at the Holocaust museum years later, and the poem on the wall read: "We are the shoes, we are the last witnesses. ...And because we are only made of fabric and leather not blood and flesh - each of us avoided the hellfire."

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