Remembering 9/11: Twenty-Five Years

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 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 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 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.

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.