The following article appeared in the Oct. 25, 2001, issue of Rolling Stone.
By the afternoon of Thursday, September 13th, a chain-link fence had been erected across Chambers Street at the West Side Highway, just five blocks north of the World Trade Center. What began as a simple barrier quickly became the primary gateway to Ground Zero, guarded by FBI agents vetting those seeking access to the site. Even from a distance, the scale of the destruction was overwhelming; the pile of rubble resembled a jagged mountain range, still smoldering and casting a haze over the surrounding abandoned buildings.
The Changing Face of Manhattan
As officials began restricting access to the site due to liability concerns, the area surrounding the barricades transformed into an aid station of unprecedented scale. Men in a diverse array of uniforms—National Guardsmen, NYPD, FDNY, ironworkers, and various federal agencies—moved through the gates. Manhattan, once defined by its bankers and media elite, had been reclaimed by a workforce of urban-warfare specialists and borough-bred laborers.
The atmosphere near the perimeter was surreal. A local named Harold, who had managed to bypass the initial checkpoints, remarked that if not for the burning ruins at the end of the street, the scene could have been mistaken for a street fair. Corporate entities and local businesses mobilized with remarkable efficiency, providing everything from free cell-phone calls to massive quantities of food and water. It was as if the modern food industry had been engineered specifically for such a crisis.
The Spirit of Volunteerism
A significant portion of the relief effort was driven by self-appointed volunteers. The streets were lined with supplies—saline solution, toothbrushes, and fresh undergarments—donated by a city eager to offer comfort to those working on the mound. Yet, because so many were eager to help, the challenge often became finding meaningful work for the volunteers to perform. The scene was a testament to the specific resources and the unique, often eccentric, spirit of New York.
As dusk settled, the reality of the situation remained stark. The constant question among the volunteers was always the same: “How close did you get?” Whether it was a Franciscan monk offering spiritual solace or a local resident trying to find a way to contribute, the collective desire to be part of the response was palpable. By the early hours of the morning, as dump trucks lined the highway to clear the debris, the volunteers remained, still searching for ways to offer support to the weary firefighters returning from the site. In those quiet, somber moments, the city stood united, facing a tragedy that defied simple explanation.