On 9/11, I was celebrating the 8:30 a.m. Mass at Church of Saint Teresa in south Manhattan, where I was pastor. With the paten in my hands, I began the offertory prayer over the bread, “Blessed are you Lord God of Heaven and Earth.”
A sound – BOOM – was heard, followed shortly after by a cacophony of screeching sirens. As Mass continued, all of us in the church were aware that something was happening outside. When I concluded the final blessing, the parish secretary appeared at the door of the church and hysterically shouted, “One of the World Trade Center Towers is on fire.”
Myself and the faithful quickly exited the church onto Henry Street and looked at the roaring flames enveloping the upper floors of the North Tower.
“Jesus, have mercy”; “God be with them”; “Lord, Lord, help” and “Hail, Mary full of grace” were heard from my parishioners as they witnessed the burning tower.
A few minutes passed when a plane circled the South Tower and flew into it. Twenty-four years later, I still hear the screams of horror of those on the block who gazed in shock and disbelief at the second inferno. Those majestic and mighty towers of steel loomed over our neighborhood. Seared in my memory – the sight of them burning and the looks of fright on the faces of those on the block. More significantly, seared in my heart and soul – the women and men trapped inside.
Who of us of a certain age can forget the horrific events of that day when 3,000 people went to work or boarded planes to travel and were victims of mass murder? The magnitude of the evil that was unleashed on 9/11! As those towers, symbols of America’s strength and power, turned to dust before our eyes that day, many asked, “Where was God on 9/11?”
Over the passing years, I have come to understand where our true strength and power lie. Not in steel and concrete, but in the deeds of generosity, compassion, love and sacrifice that happened on 9/11 and continue to happen. On 9/11, in the “I love you” phone messages left by those inside the infernos. In the rapid response of public servants. In the incredible bravery of the first responders to that disaster. In the goodness and sacrifices of those who reached out to assist in any way.
Those who committed that atrocity wanted to wipe out America’s strength. However, our real strength was shown in the bravery, compassion, generosity, sacrifices and goodness of so many. None of that collapsed on 9/11!
Outside the rectory on Henry Street, we set up an assistance station for the people escaping the area around the towers. They arrived in droves. We washed eyes and ears covered by the gray matter that had fallen; brushing their clothing; providing a place to sit and compose themselves; making phones available to call loved ones; distributing water and something to eat; giving directions to the nearby subway or to the bridges to Brooklyn and Queens; making bathrooms available; comforting them, and in the quiet of the church, praying with those who requested prayer.
Two days after 9/11, the NYPD permitted myself, the pastor and associate of Saint Peter’s Parish, located one block away from the former towers, to return to the church and rectory. They moved into Saint Teresa’s rectory on the afternoon of 9/11, as Saint Peter’s is located at Ground Zero. We were dressed with head, mouth and shoe coverings. As we plowed across New York’s City Hall Park – up to our knees in what had rained down when the towers and other nearby buildings collapsed – my Irish ancestors who came to New York to secure a better life for themselves and their families came to mind. They would never have imagined such evil could happen in America.
On the days following, 9/11 families arrived at the parish desperately seeking their loved ones – bringing photographs on which were written, “Have you seen him/her? Please, call.” As of this writing, more than 1,000 victims have not been identified.
The taste of the burning fire lasted 100 days; it smarted the eyes. There were long lines in the supermarket due to inspections delaying trucks from entering the neighborhood, and restrictions on movement as the parish was located in the “frozen zone.” The United States Army encamped on the streets around the church. There was no phone service or technology until the end of January 2002. The economic collapse of the garment industry in our neighborhood (Chinatown).
Yet, these are nothing in comparison to lives lost 24 years ago and the terror and evil that was unleashed on the world.
9/11 looks to faith to help deal with such evil, which left a hole in the heart of this nation. Faith teaches us to take up the cross, which was not the end for Jesus or the end for our suffering. The pain stays. In the Cross, strength and comfort can be found. Religious fanaticism, terrorism and hatred must be resisted and rejected. Our faith in the Cross of Christ can guide us to know God in the midst of suffering and pain.
One year after 9/11, an exhibition of Spanish art from the provinces of León and Castile, titled “Time to Hope,” was organized at the Episcopal Cathedral of Saint John the Divine. It was a powerful presentation organized to offer the Light of Christ to the continued darkness caused by 9/11. One of the masterpieces by Diego de la Cruz, “Resurrected Christ between Two Angels,” caught my attention and helped me deal with my 9/11 experience. Despite His victory, the Risen Lord is depicted with a look of anguish on His face and in His eyes. Like the anguish that touched me and others who believe in the Resurrection, despite the continued darkness caused by the memories of 9/11.
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