Remembering 9/11: Twenty-Five Years Later

On the morning of September 11, I was getting my parents ready to leave for the airport. They had been staying with me for two months and were scheduled to fly from LaGuardia to Jacksonville that day. I was supposed to meet with Keith Berg, our head chef at God’s Love, but then he called and told me not to come downtown.

“Something’s happened,” he said. “A plane has hit one of the towers at the World Trade Center. We’re not sure what’s going on.” I turned on the television, and about thirty minutes later Keith called again. This time, he was in tears.

I took the subway as far downtown as I could, to 14th Street, and then walked the rest of the way to God’s Love We Deliver. People were streaming north on Sixth Avenue in shock. Everyone looked absolutely stunned. It was frightening because none of us knew what to think or what might happen next.

When I arrived, we made the decision to open our doors. Anyone who needed water, food, a place to sit, or simply a moment of safety was welcome to come inside. So many people were in shock. I remember one person in the kitchen peeling carrots because he needed to feel useful. We realized quickly that people needed emotional support too, so we brought mental health professionals into the building to help staff, volunteers, and visitors process what was happening.

That afternoon, we could not get our delivery vans out, so we started thinking differently about how to help. We took some of the food we had prepared to the fire station on Sixth Avenue near us. That was when I lost it. When we arrived, no one was there. Everyone was gone. I could not understand how that was possible.

Later that night, we went downtown, set up tables, and brought food to the people working near Ground Zero. It was total chaos, but everyone was trying to stay calm. At first, we did not understand that there were so few survivors in the towers. It was the saddest day I can remember.

But even in the middle of that devastation, there was something beautiful about the way people responded. God’s Love did not stop. People kept chopping vegetables. They kept cooking. They kept asking what else they could do.

My parents did not end up going home that day. It was the first time I had ever seen my father cry. At dinner, he said, “I fought in World War II. I never thought I’d see this happen to my country. I fought to protect my children, my grandchildren.” He just wept. Two weeks later, when he finally returned to Jacksonville, he went to the naval station and said he wanted to volunteer. They gently told him he was a little too old to serve.

Blaine with Board member Michael Kors

I remember looking out from the 36th floor and seeing smoke rising over the city. The air carried the smell of burning. It was impossible to breathe at times, and many of us wore masks. Beyond the physical toll, the trauma settled into people’s bodies. Everyone was sad. Everyone was shaken.

Keith Berg and the whole team were trying to hold everything together, figuring out where we could feed people and how we could continue serving our clients.

In one way, it was the worst of times. In another way, I saw New Yorkers lead with kindness and love. If someone was walking uptown and another person had a car, they would stop and ask if that person needed a ride. People dropped everything and asked, “How can I help?”

It took time before we could begin delivering meals again because bridges were closed and the city was so difficult to navigate. But I was so proud of God’s Love because we continued on. We soldiered on. If anyone needed food and we could get to them, we would.

I can still see all those people walking up Sixth Avenue. There are no words to describe how everyone felt. Twenty-five years later, that image remains with me.

For the first three weeks, I came downtown every day as we rethought and reorganized how to get meals out. Everybody rallied. The kitchen kept cooking. We created a safe room where people could sit and talk with Barbra and other mental health experts because people needed to feel safe. They needed someone to listen.

I worked in the kitchen. I went downtown. I hugged people when they needed a hug. I watched our staff and volunteers rise to the occasion with extraordinary compassion.

I was, and still am, so proud of God’s Love We Deliver. In the face of fear, grief, and uncertainty, we rose to the occasion. We opened our arms, fed whoever we could reach, and reminded people that they were not alone.

In September 2001, I was a relatively new employee at God’s Love We Deliver, managing information technology for the organization. I was living in the West Village at the time.

September 11 happened to be my day off.

I was getting ready to rollerblade along the Hudson River waterfront and down toward Battery Park when news reports began showing a plane striking one of the World Trade Center towers.

At first, it seemed impossible to comprehend.

I remember calling my mother in Arkansas as I tried to understand what was happening. The images didn’t make sense.

Rather than stay home, I decided to walk to our offices. As I made my way toward Spring Street, the situation continued to unfold. News reports became more alarming, and information spread rapidly through the city.

David with Chief Program Development Officer Dorella Walters

When I arrived, people were already gathering, trying to absorb what was happening.

One image has never left me: streams of people began making their way uptown from Ground Zero. So many were covered in dust. They looked stunned. Others were walking in silence.

Seeing those crowds transformed the disaster from something happening on television into something deeply personal and immediate. The crisis wasn’t occurring somewhere else. It was happening right outside our doors.

That day changed New York forever, and it changed all of us who lived through it. God’s Love We Deliver was an integral part of keeping New York City cared for and loved, and I am honored to have been a part of our efforts in the days and weeks after.

It became one of my proudest moments working here and I will never forget it.

I was working in the Finance department at God’s Love We Deliver on September 11, 2001.

That morning, many of us gathered in the third floor conference room. From there, we could see one of the World Trade Center towers.

We watched in disbelief.

At first, it was difficult to understand what we were seeing. Then the situation grew worse by the minute. Eventually, the tower disappeared from view, replaced by an enormous cloud of smoke and dust.

The following day, the entire staff pitched in. People from every department gathered in the kitchen making sandwiches and preparing food for first responders and recovery workers. Titles and job descriptions no longer mattered. We were all doing whatever was needed.

Ed with staff member Pat Costello and Ed’s partner, Devyn

Like many nonprofits in the city, God’s Love faced so much uncertainty. Donations slowed dramatically, and after several weeks many of us were laid off temporarily. I volunteered with the Red Cross during October before eventually returning to God’s Love in November.

One of my strongest memories from that time is my subway commute.

New York is usually loud and energetic. But after September 11, the trains felt different. There were few tourists. There was little laughter. Cars that were normally crowded and noisy became strangely quiet. People treated one another with a level of respect and understanding I had never experienced before.

One day, a paramedic stood up and addressed an entire subway car. He explained that he was alive only because he had run in one direction while his paramedic partner ran toward danger. His partner was never seen again.

You could have heard a pin drop.

That moment captured what those weeks felt like. Everyone was grieving. Everyone knew someone whose life had been changed forever. And everyone carried those stories with them wherever they went.

Marianne (R) with staff member Dorella Walters

9/11 is still a very vivid day for me. The sky was an unusually clear blue, the air very clean but the weather reporters told us it would be a rather hot day.

I was on the express bus from Brooklyn heading to my job at God’s Love We Deliver as an Intake Specialist in Manhattan on Spring Street. The bus was approaching the World Trade Center as traffic seemed to come to an unusual stop. Papers and other items seemed to be floating around us. Someone said “Here we go again, a fire.” Instead, a police officer approached the bus and told us to get out.

The natural thing to do (as people were standing around gasping and screaming) was to look up. The WTC was burning. The police screamed at us to run and we all headed east towards the East River.

Everyone was screaming, crying, and running. I found a lady who said she worked in the building but can’t reach her husband. I told her I worked not far at GLWD, and to come with me so we would try to use the landline. As we were walking, we turned and so many people were coming uptown with us.

We reached safety at GLWD. For safety reasons, the doors were locked. But the front desk saw me and let me in (covered in dust). I told them the lady was with me and the Nutrition Services department let her use the phone.

I went upstairs to Client Services where I worked. We all hugged and cried as they were worried about me. I was so happy to be with them.

GLWD did not stop for a second, always taking care of those that needed.

They wanted to make sure staff and volunteers were safe first and foremost.

Those who could went home. Emergency provisions were made for clients. Whatever items like canned tuna, peanut butter, and meals on hand were given to ER workers.

God’s Love never stopped – with arms out, with love and kindness.

With the destruction and smell of ash all around us, God’s Love continued our mission with resourcefulness, care, and love, as best we could.”

On September 11, 2001, I was working as a delivery dispatcher at God’s Love We Deliver. My job was to coordinate deliveries and communicate with our volunteer distribution centers throughout the city.

When the towers came down, everything changed instantly.

Cell phone service disappeared. Credit card systems stopped working. Transportation shut down. Bridges and tunnels closed.

Our drivers were scattered throughout New York and New Jersey delivering meals. Many had children in school or daycare. Others had family members working throughout the metropolitan area. My focus became helping our drivers locate their loved ones.

Throughout the day, I stayed on the phone, making call after call using landlines. Drivers were reaching out over two-way radios, needing information. They wanted to know if their children were safe, whether their spouses had been found, and how they could get home.

One driver’s two children were at a daycare center in Jersey City. After a series of phone calls, I finally reached someone who could confirm the children were safe. I was so glad to be able to deliver the news on one of the worst days imaginable.

Many drivers couldn’t return to Manhattan because the bridges and tunnels were closed. Since they couldn’t abandon their vans, I directed several of them to park on 10th Street between Fourth and Fifth Avenues so they could walk to subway stations and attempt to make their way home. At one point, at least six God’s Love vans were parked there.

Inside our offices, we spent the day monitoring the news while coordinating our operations. I remember walking with Volunteer Department staff member David Christmas to Sullivan Street and looking downtown. One of the towers was burning. The smoke was endless.

By early afternoon, we had to evacuate. Canal Street and areas south had already been cleared, and eventually the evacuation zone expanded northward. We left around 2 p.m.

Instead of going home, I headed to Church Street and North Moore Street to volunteer. I was prepared to donate blood or do anything that might help. The line of volunteers stretched for blocks.

Pat with Board member Melba Wilson at the 2024 Golden Heart Awards

The next few days we did whatever we could despite the many challenges we faced.

Some of our clients lived near the Hudson River in areas cut off by the collapse and emergency response operations. Our dear Jim Konetsky, our Ombuds Officer and one of my very best friends, made sure they continued receiving meals. Day after day, he walked into restricted areas at Battery Park City and difficult areas to make deliveries. I will never forget his commitment.

Throughout the emergency, we also coordinated with volunteer distribution centers and local agencies. We brought food to the Transit Police Headquarters working around Canal Street. We adapted in what felt like a hundred ways. Again, we did whatever we could.

One thing I’ll never forget was taking the subway home that first day. The train was packed with people. Despite this, it was completely silent. No one spoke.

In the months that followed, New York slowly recovered. The City moved our Race to Deliver from the end of September to the end of November. I was so proud of my City, as that Race became one of the most successful fundraising events in our history. New Yorkers rallied to support our clients and their families.

What I remember most, though, is how people came together. In the middle of fear, confusion, and heartbreak, everyone focused on helping someone else.

I will never forget that day. And I will never forget the bravery, commitment and dedication of God’s Love We Deliver.

I walked to GLWD on 9/11 and saw one of the planes flying low along the Hudson on its path to the WTC. In the office, we watched events unfold from the windows and became tasked to locate staff and, most significantly, the whereabouts of the drivers in their vans.

A few days after the tragedy I joined staff in a van to deliver sandwiches to the responders/rescuers. The smell and quality of the air around Ground Zero was oppressive. I was struck by the bravery of the individuals on the scene. I was very proud to be part of God’s Love We Deliver on that day.

The mission didn’t stop with 9/11, it found a way to respond as it always has with nourishment for those in need.

I came to God’s Love We Deliver in the late 1980s, at a time when HIV/AIDS was devastating my community. I had lost at least fifteen of my closest friends to AIDS. We were experiencing death in our twenties. These were not distant acquaintances. They were my brothers, the people I had built my life alongside. Like so many others, I was searching for a way to respond to unimaginable loss, and I found that purpose at God’s Love.

I joined what was essentially the organization’s first Board of Directors and eventually became Board Chair. Looking back, I am proud of what we accomplished. I watched God’s Love grow from a small operation in a church basement, to the youth hostel, to our SoHo building. Along the way, we expanded our mission beyond HIV/AIDS to serve people living with many serious illnesses, and we evolved from delivering hot meals to preparing medically tailored frozen meals that could reach even more people in need.

The AIDS crisis and September 11 were two defining moments of my life. They were very different kinds of crises, but they taught me many of the same lessons.

HIV/AIDS was more devastating for me on a personal level. It was an intimate tragedy that touched every corner of my life. We were watching friends become sick, caring for them, losing them, and then doing it all over again. The grief was relentless.

September 11 was different. It was a global crisis. It changed the city, the country, and the world. It felt like the beginning of a new era, one where life itself seemed newly fragile.

In September 2001, I was living in Tribeca since 1993, just three blocks from the World Trade Center. When the towers fell, it was not simply a news event for me. It happened in my neighborhood, outside my front door.

Richard with former President & CEO Karen Pearl and volunteer and former Board Co-Chair Sylvia Vogelman

When my husband and I tried to return home after, the scenes were unimaginable. Debris covered the streets. Police would not allow us into our loft. I remember having to explain to the NYPD that my husband needed access to his HIV medications, medicine he could not live without. Eventually, after staying with friends for several days, we returned home earlier than we probably should have, to the detriment of our health. But we wanted to be part of rebuilding our community.

There were very few people living downtown when we came back. Every week, residents gathered to talk about how we could support one another and help bring life back to the neighborhood. We were fortunate that God’s Love was within walking distance, because during that difficult time, the organization became an anchor.

Nancy Mahon, a dear friend, was our Executive Director then. We knew immediately that we had to respond. This was a crisis, and God’s Love had always been at its best when responding to crisis.

We decided we needed to do something proactive, and we moved incredibly fast.

Within days, God’s Love was preparing and delivering thousands of meals. I worked closely with community leaders like Madeline Willis from Community Board 1, whose leadership and coordination were invaluable. Together, we connected with volunteers, firefighters, and Ground Zero workers, making sure food reached the people who needed it most. It remains one of the moments I am most proud of because it demonstrated exactly what God’s Love does best. We see a need, and we act.

One thing that stood out to me was the spirit of unity. During those days, people came together in a way I had never experienced before. Everyone was focused on helping and healing. It was a powerful reminder that even in the darkest moments, community matters.

For me, the most meaningful place during that time was the kitchen.

I was useful as Board Chair, certainly, but my heart was always in the kitchen. That is where the mission lives. It is where strangers become volunteers and volunteers become family. It is where grief is transformed into action.

One of the most important lessons I have learned in my life is that when you are experiencing grief, you have to fight back. And fighting back means giving back.

You help others. You volunteer. You support organizations doing meaningful work.

There is nothing more healing than seeing services provided to people who desperately need them. It reminds you that even when the world feels broken, goodness is still possible.

My husband and I raised our son with that belief. As he was growing up, we brought him on meal deliveries during Thanksgiving and throughout the year. We wanted him to see the city in all its complexity, to understand both its extraordinary vitality and the struggles many people face every day. Delivering meals teaches you that food is only part of what you are bringing. Sometimes the most important thing is making sure someone feels seen. You knock on a door, say hello, share a moment of connection. That matters.

On September 11 I had the honor of serving on the Board with my co-chair and dedicated volunteer Sylvia Vogelman. Sylvia was the ultimate volunteer. She lived in the kitchen. She embodied the spirit of God’s Love We Deliver better than anyone I had ever met.  Sylvia became an extraordinary leader because she understood that God’s Love has never been about one person. It is a collaborative effort. Always has been. Always will be. But if there is one person who exemplifies that collaborative spirit, who inspires people to show up and do the work, it is Sylvia. She has been a tremendous asset to this organization and to everyone fortunate enough to serve alongside her.

Today, God’s Love We Deliver is stronger than anything we imagined in those early days. When I walk through our Brooklyn facility and see the number of meals being produced, I am astonished. What we are accomplishing today would have been unthinkable when we were cooking in that church basement all those years ago.

God’s Love has always been about more than meals. It is about showing up for one another during life’s hardest moments. It is about community, dignity, and love. Whether during the AIDS epidemic, after September 11, or in any crisis that follows, the lesson remains the same: when grief finds you, the best way forward is to give back.

That is how we heal. That is how we honor those we have lost. And that is how we build a better future together.

Richard (R) with staff members Jim Konestky and Allen Massano

I began working at God’s Love We Deliver in 1997. By September 11, 2001, I was working in Community Outreach, helping build relationships with corporate partners and recruiting teams for the Race to Deliver. I absolutely loved it.

That morning, I took the train uptown to the Ralph Lauren store at 72nd Street and Madison Avenue. My goal was to rally employees to sign up for the Race to Deliver and to thank them for their support. I had been there only a few minutes when someone told me I needed to take a phone call. It was Dorella Walters from our Client Services department.

“I think you need to come back,” she said. “A plane just went into the World Trade Center.”

I looked around the room and realized other people were receiving the same news. Immediately, I knew I needed to head downtown.

I ran to 72nd and Madison and somehow managed to get what I believe was one of the last taxis heading south. The driver flew down the FDR Drive. When I got out near Houston Street, I turned onto Thompson Street and looked up. I’ll never forget what I saw: a massive, flaming hole in one of the towers.

When I reached God’s Love, I entered through the delivery area and found my fellow staff members Pat Costello and Larry Seville operating what felt like mission control. Before communications came down, phones were ringing nonstop. Radios crackled. People were asking questions, relaying information, and running around working to ensure that our staff, volunteers, and clients were safe. Yet amid the chaos, they were calm, focused, and organized. In my mind, the image of Pat, Larry, Bill Smith, and Naomi Wilkins that day is like a carefully choreographed ballet.

Later that morning, I stood outside with our head of Policy, Jim Shields, as crowds gathered in the streets. Both towers were burning. Then I watched one tower begin to shift. Moments later, the first tower collapsed. It remains one of the most haunting sights I’ve ever seen.

We were sent home early that afternoon. At the time, I lived on the Lower East Side. Soon after, I got on my bicycle and rode as close to Ground Zero as I could. The air was thick with smoke and ash. Papers drifted through the streets. I picked up several documents that looked like financial reports blown from offices inside the World Trade Center. Everything around me was destroyed.

The next day, we returned to work.

Before September 11 had even ended, a decision had been made that God’s Love would help feed the workers and volunteers responding at Ground Zero. My colleague Bill Smith drove me downtown in a van. We established a food distribution site at a former Pathmark supermarket near Water and Cherry Streets.

As we set up tables and unpacked food, I witnessed one of the moments I’ll never forget.

Blaine Trump arrived and immediately began welcoming people. There was something about her presence. The word I’ve always used is “peace.” Exhausted responders would approach for food, and she greeted each person with kindness, warmth, and compassion. Watching her care for people in those difficult hours finally brought me to tears. I remember thinking, “This is exactly what our city needs right now.”

I also remember Jim Konetsky working tirelessly to contact clients who might miss deliveries and helping ensure nobody was forgotten. Alongside Pat, Larry, Naomi, and others, he helped solve an impossible problem: How do we continue feeding vulnerable New Yorkers when much of downtown Manhattan is inaccessible?

In the weeks that followed, I returned to my outreach work with a renewed sense of purpose. The Race to Deliver became more important than ever. And NYC responded! Donations poured in – New Yorkers knew how much our clients and their families needed them.

One lighter memory remains with me as well. Chuck’s brownies became an enormous hit with firefighters and recovery workers. I remember Blaine handing them out and hearing myself say, “Take another!” channeling my Italian grandmother.

Twenty-five years later, I’m still in awe of the people who were there that day and who remain committed to this mission. When I think about colleagues like Dorella Walters and Pat Costello and all those who spring into action without a second thought, I’m reminded that the spirit of service we witnessed on September 11 never went away. It continues every day at God’s Love We Deliver.

On September 11, I was on Long Island, packing up the house where I had spent the summer. Someone called and asked whether I had seen the news.

The next day, I left for Manhattan at 6 p.m. I had never reached Grand Central so quickly. When I arrived, NYPD officers were checking cars.
The following day, I was back with GLWD. Soon after, Executive Chef Keith Berg and I tried to travel below 14th Street, but the area had been closed. We were able to gain access after I showed them a brochure naming me as a co-chair of GLWD and Keith as our head chef.

From that day forward—and for many days afterward—we worked in the kitchen making sandwiches for Ground Zero workers and anyone else who needed food.

That Thanksgiving remains especially vivid. We assembled two baskets filled with food from God’s Love. Alan Levin, who also served on the Board, and I carried them to the firehouse at Houston Street. While we were there, an announcement came over the loudspeaker: a firefighter had been found at Ground Zero. It was heart-wrenching. We thanked them for all they had done and left.

God’s Love did everything it could—to serve as a resource and care for workers, first responders, our clients, and the wider community. We rose to the occasion.

We rose to the occasion. I was truly proud of everyone: the volunteers, the staff, and all those who came together to help.