In the midst of global turmoil brought on by the pandemic, it’s difficult to hold space in our hearts and minds for remembrances. But as we approach September 11th, remembrance is the most important thing we can do.
It’s been nearly two decades since September 11, 2001, but for those who were affected by the attack, it can feel like just yesterday. We at JCI are some of these people. For us, this tragedy is intensely personal and the trauma endured by all involved sits on our shoulders as we do our work every day. This day isn’t about us, but our story is very much about this day.
At that time, John Cutter was the Chief of the NYPD’s Intelligence Division — and Ron Lowe’s supervisor. Ron, a JCI Vice President now, was a first responder back then and was awarded a Medal of Valor for his actions on that day. Ron has taken the time to put his story into words, and today we would like to share that story with you, in the hopes that you will join us in remembering that day through his eyes. What follows may be difficult for some to read, as it was (and continues to be) a very emotional point in time for many of us.
When Ron recounted arriving on the scene and laying eyes on the aftermath, he was struck by the environment: in addition to the debris, luggage from the plane was strewn about everywhere and still falling. It was strange to see everyday objects like dresses and books alongside the rubble and the victims. He had arrived on site with two of his fellow officers, Detective Cama and Sergeant DiMartino. There was a metal café table and chairs nearby, and they grabbed metal chairs to shield them as they ran across the open plaza to the building. Ron and the other officers started to make their way up the first stairwell they could find, helping people evacuate as they climbed toward the impact site. The stairwell was full, body to body, shoulder to shoulder, as everyone attempted to evacuate the injured building. Ron had begun to ascend the stairs to the 54th floor when they felt the building tremble. Ron recalls:
“Our ascent was abruptly halted on the landing of the 54th floor by a thundering noise and a violent shuddering and shaking – as if we were in an earthquake. This was caused by what we would later learn to be the sister tower, the South Tower, collapsing.”
Eventually a group of firefighters informed Ron and his partners that an evacuation order had been issued, to go back down and assist with the evacuation on the way out. The smoke was too thick on the upper floors, and they didn’t have any protective gear. Reluctantly, they began their descent toward the ground floor. Ron recounted that, after the firemen had advised them to go back down:
“It suddenly struck me – I now thought of my family, my kids…Ronnie, Stephen and Cathleen, my wife, and the message I had left on the answering machine when this first began: ‘A plane hit the Trade Center, I’m going in, I’m OK, I’ll talk to you later.’ Would I? Suddenly I wasn’t so sure. At this point I still did not know that the South Tower had collapsed. I now began to accept the very real possibility that I may not get out; I may never see them again.”
They exited the building through the shattered windows of what had once been the ground floor lobby, and minutes later, the North Tower began to fall.
“There was a small group of us standing on West Street when we heard it. A horrible loud noise – almost as one, everyone looked upward toward the origin of the noise. More than one hundred stories above us, we saw the top floors of the North Tower crumbling before our eyes.”
As the North Tower collapsed, they sought shelter beneath a nearby fire truck as the area was coated with ash and debris. Lowe recounts:
“The next few minutes were a nightmarish, terror-filled ordeal. There was a warm, heavy rush of air, carrying ash and debris, thick as an avalanche. It was impossible to breathe without choking on mouthfuls of ash. We feared asphyxiation.”
As they emerged, they were covered with about an inch of fine white-gray ash. They could hear the yells of other first responders as they attempted to flee the area in search of fresh air. In the years since 9/11, we have seen countless first responders deal with the long term effects of inhaling this ash, and it’s not lost on us how fortunate we are to be able to hear this story from someone who not only survived that day, but then continued to live and work in New York City in the years to follow.
It’s easy to repeat “Never Forget,” but it’s much harder to remember. It hurts to recall that day, but it is comforting to know that these stories come from survivors. These people were and continue to be the bravest of an already brave population in the greatest city on earth. Though it hurts, we are grateful to remember. We are grateful to Ron, and our brothers and sisters who risked their lives, to save those who were put in immense danger by this attack. We are grateful to be able to share this story with you, so that you can remember with us. We can never forget. We will never forget.
