Abstract
The events of September 11, 2001, horrified each of us and changed each of our lives individually. The members of the Orthopaedic Nurses of New York, many of whom lived through that historic day getting through the crisis, were asked to share their reactions and feelings during this historic day. The following article chronicles their lives as nurses, parents, citizens, and proud Americans during this difficult time.
When the unthinkable attack happened to our beloved World Trade Center on the morning of September 11, 2001, we know that it affected not just us in New York City, but the entire world. We are not alone in our sorrow or our grieving. We know on that day thousands of innocent people, merely going to work, or flying across the country, died. Hundreds more tried to rescue them, including police, firefighters, emergency workers, and others who lost their lives as they bravely tried to help those in the Towers. The nation watched in horror as a third plane hit the Pentagon, and a fourth crashed outside Pittsburgh.
Hospitals in New York City, as well as our tri-state neighbors (New Jersey and Connecticut) immediately operationalized their disaster plans. Patients were transferred to other facilities, beds were made ready to accept the victims of the WTC tragedy, and operating rooms were freed up to take in casualties. As the day went on, the stark reality set in that very few of these innocent people survived the impact of the planes hitting, the intensity of the heat from the fire, and the implosion of the Towers. Many of the Orthopaedic Nurses of New York (ONNY) members live and work near the World Trade Center, and we have asked them to share their thoughts from that very sad day. Please accept our collective thanks to all of you who called, emailed and sent your concerns for our city and our welfare.
As I walked into my workplace on September 11, my coworkers were staring at the television in the waiting area in complete disbelief. It was at this point I realized that a plane had crashed into one of the towers of the World Trade Center. I immediately felt sick to my stomach, and my mouth became dry, as my younger sister Rose worked on the 87th floor of Tower Two. After several phone calls, it was known that she was out of the building.
During the next several hours -which felt like days - my brother called and said that he had spoken with her. She was very shaken and hoarse, but okay. She had seen Tower One on fire and told her coworkers to get out of the building. After several miles of walking through lower Manhattan and over the Brooklyn Bridge (she lives in Brooklyn), she was finally able to find a bus that could take her home. By then it was 2:30 p.m., and she had been walking since 9 a.m.
As she cried, she spoke of the continued support of each and every person she met along the way, and how people really pulled together to survive this disaster. Because of her fast thinking and will to survive, we have her with us today. We are grateful.
Josephine Marrero
After the initial shock of realizing that we were not going to get any patients because everyone was dead, I felt that I had to go to the site to see if I could help. (It is so difficult for nurses to believe that we are not needed or cannot do anything to help). On Friday, September 14, I went as close to the site as people were allowed. Talking to a policeman through tears, I was directed to the Volunteer Center about a mile away. I found a line of volunteers that reached around several blocks. People were bringing in food and supplies by the truckload. The area was frantic with activity. Posted on the door was a note saying thank you, but they had more than enough volunteers and food. There was a list of supplies needed for the rescue workers - everything from gloves and boots to eye drops, goggles, and masks.
I set out to find some of the needed supplies. So many people were trying to help out that most of the stores in the area were sold out. I finally found a small family-run drugstore, and together with another woman who I met there at Ground Zero, bought all of the eye solutions (big bottles for use on the bus and small bottles for individual use) and foot care products that they had. She lived close to Ground Zero, and was allowed to get in and out of the restricted area.
This gal called her favorite restaurant who began preparing large containers of food which I helped load into her van. People on the street saw what we were doing and came over to ask her to take supplies into the workers. When we had her van loaded to capacity with hot food and supplies and she was ready to go, we were both in tears and hugged each other. I felt like I was saying goodbye to a dear friend. Such were the days after September 11.
Gigi Viellion
Although I did not have anyone in my family die from the World Trade Center attack, I had several relatives who were nearby. My brother-in-law Ted was in his office for just 10 minutes when the first plane hit. He was lucky because if he delayed leaving home for 10 minutes, he would have been in the PATH train (underground train that connects New Jersey with New York) when it occurred. One of my nieces was coming out of the train station when the debris was falling. Another niece was in her school dormitory and saw the whole event.
My family was lucky and blessed. My older son Thomas was able to see the Twin Towers with his cousins Krystal and Richard this summer, while my younger son Patrick will not see them. I also remember my fond memories of the towers. I enjoyed eating at Windows on the World.
New York will survive. After 9-11, I learned to cherish my own life. Now I live in the present and appreciate each moment.
Bridget Murray
Many hours after the attack, I was allowed to return home. I live in Queens, so I had to walk over the 59th Street Bridge. As I walked, I met a coworker, Ann, accompanied by a gentleman named Mohammed, whom I did not know. As we walked over the bridge, you could see the black smoke rising from the site. People were staring, not quite fathoming what had happened.
I became acutely aware that many people were also staring at Mohammed and that he was becoming visibly more uncomfortable. He avoided eye contact with passers-by. It suddenly dawned on me that he was really afraid. And you know what, I understood that fear. As is true of us all, I will never forget where I was on September 11, 2001. I will also never forget the walk across the bridge, Mohammed, and the face of fear.
Barbara Wukovits
On September 11, after watching a most horrific event on the television at work, and feeling the terror, pain, and suffering of the people there, I suddenly began to worry about the safety of my two daughters. Although their school was out of that area and deemed safe, further uncertainty loomed in the air. Being separated from my children and the realization that I could not protect them brought tears to my eyes.
When we met at the end of the school day, my children were physically fine. As we discussed the events of the day, it elicited very difficult comments and questions. "Are we going to die?" asked my youngest daughter. "I don't want to be in pain; I always wanted to become a teenager. Will I die before then?" These heart-wrenching thoughts broke my heart into pieces. I told her that she would be okay and we must pray for world peace.
My oldest daughter's realization was the importance of family, which she admits to once having taken for granted. She says she's not sure how she could exist without her mother and sister. She no longer takes family for granted. We now give each other kisses more often, we talk about the good and difficult things more often, and we value each minute when we are together.
My role as mother took on a greater meaning. The significance of the many hats I wear became crucial as caregiver, educator, nurse, spiritualist, moralist, protector, and historian, to name a few. The one part of these roles that became most difficult was to maintain my composure and remain calm during this crisis so that I could provide my daughters with strength, courage and enhanced decision-making abilities. I teach them to love and understand one another and to learn more about people, places and things that we are not familiar with, by talking, listening, caring, and sharing. Our family has ventured into a new way of life and we are now forever changed.
Doreen Johnson
I was in Washington, DC, on September 11, and when I was able to return to New York City (days later) I saw the smoke from both the Pentagon and the WTC in the same day. When I got home to my apartment in Brooklyn Heights, I could see a low level of dust on my furniture, and could literally taste the smoke and soot. For weeks we lived in a police state, with the National Guard, police, and state troopers stopping cars, inspecting trunks, and so forth.
In my local firehouse, we lost eight firefighters who were among the first to respond to the tragedy - Joseph Agnello, Vernon Cherry, Scott Davidson, Marty Egan, Robert Regan, Leon Smith, Pete Vega, and Bob Wallace. On September 10 I did not know these fine men, and from September 11 on, they are a part of my heart. They, and all the heroes who died that day, have the love and support of our entire community. Since the beginning of the Fire Department in 1865, no more than 12 firefighters have died in a single incident; on this day, 343 of New York's bravest ran into that burning building and lost their lives helping others.
About a month later, we had the anthrax scare. I work in the hospital that lost the first health care worker from anthrax. I participated in the medication distribution, working with the NYC Department of Health, as well as the Office of Emergency Medicine and the CDC. We distributed antibiotics to close to 2000 very frightened New Yorkers. That experience confirmed my faith in our emergency services, as the screening was efficient and organized.
As New Yorkers, we have the reputation of being tough. We are resilient and have the ability to heal. Our city is slowly recovering, although there is an important part of us missing, a hole in the skyline. We think and pray for all those who died that day, and all the families mourning loved ones.
Nancy E. Mooney
Our home care nursing office in Queens, NY, has large windows that face downtown Manhattan. The view from the windows shows the New York skyline. We have always appreciated the Twin Towers - they were always there. On the morning of September 11, a secretary commented on the plane flying close to the Towers, and someone commented that maybe the pilot was lost. Seconds later smoke was coming from one of the Towers. We thought that there was a fire, and we were concerned but not fearful. Minutes later a second plane hit the second tower. Almost immediately, someone screamed "terrorist." We stood by the windows, unable to speak. We turned on the radio and learned of the hijacking and crash. The view was surreal.
We watched, speechless, as the Towers collapsed. We prayed, we cried, and we looked out the window. We were angry and frightened at the same time. The white dust that came from the Towers as they collapsed will never be forgotten.
We composed ourselves and prepared for the increased demand for home care services, as we anticipated many early discharges to make room for the injured. Those anticipated demands never materialized, as we know now, there were not many survivors.
I find myself still glancing out of the window looking for the Towers.
Daphne Ridley
I have a brother-in-law who is a fireman, and luckily he was off on 9/11. He has been through hell and back since the attack, though. He, like most of the FDNY, are overstressed both physically and emotionally. They work longer hours under unbelievable circumstances and spend their "off" days attending funerals of their FDNY brothers and friends. I also have a brother who is a police officer in Brooklyn, and the NYPD, too, have been functioning in unbelievable stressful conditions.
As a Bronx native who spent every summer in Rockaway Beach, a section that took a tremendous hit, I personally know and am friends with over 100 members of both the fire and police departments. I know only one fireman who lost his life. A friend from Rockaway is one of the three firemen in the famous picture raising the flag at the site.
When the plane hit, I was at work and found myself taking inventory of all the people I knew who worked near the Trade Center. I later found out that four friends who work on the Commodities Exchange in an adjacent building narrowly escaped the collapse.
Ironically, the closest to me who lost the most was the farthest away, geographically. Shaun Meehan is one of my best friends from high school. He moved to France soon after graduating college. His youngest brother, Damian, was 32 years old; a father of a 2-year-old son, and his wife was 5 months pregnant. Damian worked for Carr Futures on the 92nd floor of Tower One and was among the missing. The day after the attack I received emails from Shaun, who was trying to find out information as phone service was intermittent and the news covering in Nantes, France, was obviously limited. As time went on and no news came from Ground Zero, the picture got darker. Two weeks passed before Damian's remains were found, but the family was pleased to have closure to their nightmare.
His wake was one of the saddest events with which I have ever been involved. There was a steady stream of thousands of well-wishers who stood in lines around the block of the funeral home. He was a very popular guy with a large family. Two of his brothers were firefighters and another a police officer.
It has been an extremely difficult time and it makes you realize how short our stay is here on this planet. We should take advantage of what we have on a daily basis - because you just never know what is waiting for you around the corner.
Jack Davis
September 11 began as a beautiful and clear day - it was Primary Day in NYC. My usual route to NYC from Brooklyn is via an express bus that passes the WTC each day. About two thirds of the bus usually exit at the WTC. I have not seen many of my fellow passengers since that day and hope they are safe and well.
Soon after I arrived at work we were asked to mobilize for an external disaster with mass casualties. We mobilized before the second plane hit and awaited the injured. I worked on the Orthopaedic Unit where we received patients with fractures and burns. I later worked with the patients being discharged and later at the Family Center, an area where family members of missing people visited to locate their loved ones. It was unbelievable to watch in horror as the Towers burned and disappeared - I could see them from my hospital.
In the early part of the day we hurried to ready the unit and prepared for the injured, too busy to notice crowds gathering outside the hospital. I later escorted a patient outside and was stopped by one of the many volunteers in an even larger crowd who wanted to give me a sandwich. She also wanted to help in any way possible. Later, I noticed people bringing clothes and more food. Nursing students from New York University opened up a food center outside the hospital to feed the rescue workers. The New School sent over klieg lights to increase lighting outside of the Emergency Department.
This theme continued throughout a long day. I was so overwhelmed and humbled by the community wanting to help and take care of us. We at the hospital worked long hours that day, but were rejuvenated by the community spirit. When the number of people missing discouraged us, we were lifted up by their kindness and support.
In the days that followed I received calls of concern from my neighbors in NYC, Ireland, and across the country. These were great support to me. Bea Hagy, Linda Hightower, and Cynthia Gonzalez all sent concerned calls and emails. As President of the ONNY chapter, I was moved by the support from these NAON colleagues.
We are returning to a much more normal pace in NYC. While saddened and hurt by the events of 9/11/01, we realize how small the world is and how fortunate we are to have so many wonderful friends and colleagues. Your support will never be forgotten.
Maureen Whalen