Everyone remembers what they were doing on September 11, 2001. It’s seared in our memories with the rest of the giant news stories of our lives: The assassinations of JFK, Martin Luther King, and RFK; the Challenger disaster, the Nixon resignation, and more.
There are likely several — maybe many — members of the Press Club of Southwest Florida who covered the events in Manhattan on 9/11. As we approach the 23rd anniversary of the terrorist attack, I wanted to take a moment to remember the members of the press who were also lost both on that day, and in the months and years that followed.
Among the nearly 3,000 people who perished were five local TV technicians who happened to be on the top of the World Trade Center north tower doing maintenance work on the giant antenna. They were unable to get down as their escape route was blocked. They remained with no way out and died when the building collapsed. Their stories are often forgotten as we honor the many first responders who, like them, were also trapped in the building when it fell.
I also mourn for my news colleagues who jumped into the breach and stayed on site day after day. At the time we were told, although many of us didn’t believe it, that the air on the pile was safe to breathe. We of course know that was not the case. Over the years I have watched friends, whose dedication to making sure they “got the story,” slowly lose their lives, their bodies riddled with all kinds of cancers after breathing in pulverized plastic, dry wall, metal and everything else that swirled in the air around the rubble of the buildings.
Others, still alive, have had their lives dramatically changed because of cancers not strong enough to kill them but enough to make living a struggle. Among them, a dear friend with whom I spent many a day chasing stories throughout the New York metropolitan area who, in his early 40s, was diagnosed with early onset Parkinson’s disease. I have some stories of my own leading up to that day and beyond, but they pale in comparison to what my brave fellow news colleagues witnessed. Here’s just one.
Frank Cipolla reporting from Ground Zero a week after the attack
News-wise, the summer of 2001 was especially slow. Those slow news periods always concern me because it has been my experience that slow news cycles usually end abruptly. By now it’s all but forgotten, but about a week before 9/11 there was a funeral held in Staten Island, New York, for a young firefighter who died of a heart attack on the job. As is tradition, hundreds of his firefighter colleagues turned out for the funeral, including New York Fire Department Chaplain Father Mychal Judge. Judge was beloved by the rank and file. On 9/11 he rushed to the scene. He would later, and honorifically, be listed as the first casualty of 9/11.
When a funeral is held for a fallen police or firefighter in NYC, there are very strict rules. The body is taken out of the hearse and solemnly brought into the house of worship. Every department attendee salutes and then they, along with the news media, remain outside listening to the service on giant speakers. That is also the cue for the news media to begin searching for a fellow firefighter who knew the deceased in order to get some sound bites for the story.
Frank Cipolla with a local official in the World Trade Center pit
I did just that, walking along the long line of firefighters, interviewing several of them. I distinctly remember their faces. Young men and women with their whole lives in front of them. I knew some of them from past stories and, despite the somber occasion, it was a chance for us to catch up. We talked and smiled. They were immensely proud of their service to the city of New York. Dedicated first responders. Professionals. I often wonder how many of the firefighters I spoke with that day, shook their hands, looked in their eyes, had no idea they had a week to live. That, sometimes even more than the day itself, haunts me.
God rest their souls and the souls of my news colleagues who perished that day and in the years that followed.