It’s no secret that we live in a time — and in a country — consumed by division. Yet we can still find an unexpected source of unity by revisiting the darkest chapter of our past and the light that followed it.
On September 11th, 2001, the world watched terrorists kill 2,977 innocent souls. We all discovered new depths of humanity’s capacity for evil. But what ran even deeper, and what we must always remember, was the human capacity for good..
Strangers pulled one another from buildings, ash, and rubble. As nearly 20,000 people fled the Twin Towers, thousands of first responders rushed in, unsure if they would ever return. When night fell, ordinary New Yorkers showed up with flimsy masks, moving through smoke and swirling dust to search for survivors.
That solidarity carried through the days, weeks, and months that followed. Engineers arrived at the site that afternoon and stayed for ten months. Local residents kept morale alive, bringing food, drinks, and handwritten notes to workers at Ground Zero. And it extends to today: 65 children of the 343 firefighters who died that morning — despite their profound loss — chose to honor their parents by becoming firefighters themselves.
As we work to preserve these acts of selflessness for the next generation, everyone who lived through that day has a story they will never forget. Mine begins with panic: my husband, Bruce, was supposed to have a meeting at the World Trade Center that morning. Only later did I learn it had been rescheduled. My mother, out for a doctor’s appointment, didn’t return until late afternoon — covered in ash.
At the time, I owned a restaurant on Broad Street, a five‑minute walk from the Towers. The blast shattered our windows and filled every crevice with dust. Still, we were determined to reopen — and did so the following Monday, serving pasta to the few customers who wandered in.
Driven by the shared determination to rebuild, I wanted to help other businesses survive the devastation. I founded Wall Street Rising, a nonprofit dedicated to supporting families and restoring our neighborhoods. We helped more than 600 small businesses stay in Lower Manhattan.
Recovery, however, came with sorrow. In 2003, I served on the 13‑person jury tasked with choosing the 9/11 memorial design. We reviewed 5,201 submissions, searching for one that would help every visitor — resident, tourist, or a New Yorker not yet born — grasp the enormity of what happened.
On September 11th, we lost so much: friends, family, neighbors, entire communities. But we did not lose everything. We held onto hope, resilience, and our love for one another. In many ways, those qualities grew stronger.
And yet, there are signs we are forgetting. America is the only country where a majority of people believe their fellow citizens are morally bad. Only 13% of Gen‑Z Americans say most people can be trusted — the generation that wasn’t alive on September 11th.
My children are part of that generation, which now makes up about a third of our city and nation. They must learn from what we tell them, from their history classes, and from visits to the 9/11 Memorial and Museum. That’s why the City Council allocated $1 million to ensure every student can experience the emotional weight of that day. There, they can see firsthand the stories of hope, resilience, humanity, and kindness — stories that reveal the larger character of our city.
Nearly 25 years ago, many believed the best view of New York was from the top of the Twin Towers — a panorama of boats, bridges, and boroughs. But 9/11 showed us that our city’s true character isn’t defined by its skyline, but by the souls of its people. That’s the view we saw from the ground in the minutes, days, and weeks after the attack.
Alongside the names etched in bronze, we must remember that view from the ground — the spirit of those who bridged the distance from human to hero. Our children need to know that the worst day in our city’s history brought out the best in the people who called it home. Solidarity didn’t just confront fear; it helped us overcome it.
We learned all of this because of that Tuesday morning. And we must never forget it.