09/10/2026
As I sit here waiting for a CT scan of my lungs on Sept. 10,2026 on the eve of the 25th anniversary of the attack on the World Trade Center and the Pentagon on 911, 2001, I am reminded of where I was 25 years ago.
I was in Jackson Mississippi, having moved from NYC just a year earlier, on the phone with my mother in Long Island, I was grabbing a bagel for breakfast when she told me a plane had hit the North Tower. I was stunned and immediately called our local news stations and newspapers, they didn’t believe me at first- until they turned on the TV, and then went home to pack. I was on the next train north- it was the only thing moving all planes were grounded and I couldn’t drive to NYC and be able to work. The train was packed, if it wasn’t for my wife knowing the conductor I would have never had a seat. Before I got on the train to Chicago I picked up the first digital camera I ever owned, I also stopped and bought as much film as I could find. While on the 24 hr ride I met Hans and air traffic controller who was in NOLA for a NTSB conference, he worked at Boston Logan Airport, where one of the flights that hit the Towers originated from. Hans wasn’t able to get in the emergency plane back to Boston so he was on my train and we became fast friends, he had knowledge of what had happened and a inside information, we soon met up with some folks from AT&T who had the same new digital camera as me, except he knew how to use it and set mine up! And they had satellite phones! And they were coordinating communications at ground zero in NYC and figuring out how to get a satellite downtown to help the first responders communicate. They also offered me my first job, find our trucks and make photos of them. I would later do exactly that. But before then I would Han’s and I had 10hrs in Chicago before our next train to NYC. When we pulled into Chicago it was insane, people everywhere- stranded - trying to get home and worried about what was next, in the midst of all this chaos, a woman on the train reached out to hand and I, and offered her apartment for us to shower and rest before we headed to NYC on the train. It turned out she and her husband we attorneys, and knew a lot about asbestos- and they gave me some special instructions on how to stay safe at ground zero- and they also had A T1 line- which is unheard of in a loft - and I was able to transmit photos -I arrived in NYC at Penn Station the night after 911, it was filled with Army, police and first responders, and stage street outside was packed with people trying to figure out where to go and what to do- pure chaos. After getting some help from the conductor I got a porter who helped me get a ride out of NYC to brooklyn where I stayed with my friend and fellow photographer Bruce Cotler. After a quick nap- we headed back to NYC, Ground Zero. Bruce drove over one of rhe bridges in lower manhattan and I could see the smoke billowing from where the Towers once stood. The closer we got the stronger the smell was, I jumped out of his car on Canal Street and headed south- he went to meet the fireman on the pier- we would meet up again at his home 23 hrs later.
I wandered around lower Manhattan the morning of day 3 after the attacks making photos and was picked up by a group of first responders who wanted me to document what they were seeing. I was immediately taken to the south street seaport where I met Father Michael, who arranged for me to go into the area that was now officially Ground Zero and was locked down. I saw FBI agents on their hands and knees sifting through debris in the cemetery beside trinity chapel, they would later recover one of the terrorists passports from their. I can still taste the thick air from the weeks I spent around the pit. I stayed the first time 23 days, I went back for the 3 month, 6 month and 1 year anniversaries, documenting everything from the cadaver dogs to the firemen to everyday heroes. What I remember most about that terrible time was how humanity came together- I was offered a free place to stay by strangers in Chicago- the conductor of the New Orleans express made sure Hans and I had seats on the train to NYC which was sold out and had no food. After my first day in the lit area, I was walking out with my new friend Billy the firemen when we got the call to run because a building was collapsing- I grabbed his jacket and took off- that thing is heavy- as I stumbled out of the hot zone, with Billy in tow- someone recognized me! I was dazed, dirty and wearing a green hard had someone had given me, it was Jeff christiansian from AFP- he grabbed me asked what did I see- he couldn’t get in that day. Most of the worlds top photographers who weee in NYC worked for 48hrs or more straight- so the morning I arrived it was different. I told Jeff what k had witnessed and he took a look at the digital images- Jeff knew how to work my new digital camera- he immediately asked did I would come with him up to Reuters new offices in Times Square he wanted his bosses (Gary Hershorn) to see what I did. I walked into Reuters exhausted, dirty, stinking like asbestos and death and saw a pizza on the counter- I grabbed 2 slices and a coke before said anything. They ended up buying a few of my photos of the FBI in the cemetery and a few from the lot area. I was still I shock, I had traveled for over 24 hrs to reach NYC and spent the next 24 hrs photographing it, my home. It was personal, my first apartment was way downtown on Peck slip- a the south street seaport- it had a view of the towers and a darkroom. But it was above a fish market and the floor boards were pretty rotted.
But NYC was home to me and the world stopped on 9, 11, 2001- and it would never be the same for me and thousands of others. I am grateful to all who helped me on my journeys in NYC, and remember those who didn’t make it and those first responders who have passed since. There is much more to this story- but each year it gets harder to tell. never forget. There are many photos I have never published.
