Only in New York
My 911 day.

By Joshua Goldberg, a New Yorker.
September 13, 2001 11:00 a.m.

very New Yorker has a personal experience from the day now called 911 — September 11 — that will be indelibly marked in memory for the rest of his life. Here's mine.

I work as a highway-contract tow-truck driver, pulling vehicles off the highways when they get stuck. As soon as I learned of the disaster I called the several companies that I work for to see who needed emergency work done in Lower Manhattan. One of them told me to report to work immediately, but by the time I got there they were already full up with drivers.

Dejected, I was walking down Tenth Avenue and to my surprise I was approached by two police officers who asked me if I thought I could drive a school bus. Having driven all kinds of vehicles over the years, I of course said yes and I soon found myself behind the wheel of a 24-person school bus that was already set up to handle 12 stretchers. I guess I had been unofficially deputized for the day.

It was horrifying to see that everything was shut off after the second tower was destroyed and all rescuers were helpless. Everything was cut off except for the perimeter of the disaster area, which meant that those who were able to be helped were those who were able to walk away from the inferno. All others would have to wait under the rubble and most are still there.

After driving several trips to St. Vincent's, Bellevue, and Roosevelt hospitals I was relieved of duty after seven hours of horror. I was then left off at Hudson and Hubert Street where, amazingly, there were almost one-thousand people waiting to volunteer for search-and-rescue duty. These volunteers were of all types — from hardened iron workers to office workers to Greenwich Village slackers. All of them found they had a common denominator despite their opposing lifestyles — they were New Yorkers.