Reflections on 9/11/2001

Hello everyone. As we approach the 21st anniversary of the September 11th attacks on New York City and the Pentagon and the attempted attack on the US Capital which ended in a field in Shanksville, PA, I wanted to take a moment and share the text of the first speech I presented on the topic. It was offered on 9/11/16 at First Responder's Park in Westerville, Ohio at the invitation of Westerville's Fire Chief, Brian Miller. I share those words again here because they are, in my opinion, even more important today than when I first shared them. May we never forget the sacrifices of so many that day, and may we strive the always remember the lessons those sacrifices offer.

Good afternoon and thank you all for attending.?I would like to take a moment and acknowledge the Reverend David C Hogg and Westerville Fire Chief Brian Miller for inviting me to share just a little about my 9/11 experience and the efforts of my fellow FDNY Fire Dispatchers, Supervisors and New Yorkers.?

My name is Christopher Blake Carver.?I am a proud Reynoldsburg and Ohio State Grad who managed to make happen a dream of living in the “big city” and of working for the Nation’s greatest fire department.

That dream brought me into the path of the event we are here to remember today.?A day which also happens to be my birthday.

It is my honor to share my story, OUR story but it is my hope that you will take at least a little of this message home and not leave it amongst the flags and the steel and the tears that are so often part of these events.?

I have heard it asked, why, 15 years on, are these 9/11 ceremonies so important??Why should we take time out to reflect on where we were and WHO we were on that beautiful Tuesday morning which suddenly changed our nation and us forever? What does that time teach us??

Perhaps the first reason why ceremonies like this are so important can be found in a number: 59,000,000.?

That is the number of babies born just in this country since 9/11/2001.

For them, they will always know 9/11 as a story—as a history lesson—with answers on some test that they will take or have taken—in a class they maybe wont appreciate…

but an event as distant to them as the founding fathers are to us, or the sinking of The Maine or increasingly World War Two.?Important yes, but not connected, not REAL.

For the rest of us, who know where we were—what we were doing—how it felt to watch those images—we need no reminder that is was so very real. We require no cliff-notes.

In fact, for many people it is more than a memory even today.?It is something that they live with each day, some better than others, some worse.?But at best, something just under the surface.?

Just last night, shortly before midnight, I found myself consoling a friend about that day.?Even though his father survived being in the towers that morning, the fear, and the terror, still live front and center in his mind.?I know he is not alone.?

But there is something else to remember about that day and those that followed.?It is what I am here to share.?It is what I remember and I feel, in some small way, it is important.

I remember miracles.?

As an Ohio boy moved to the big city, I had been a dispatcher in the FDNY for less than a year. I had worked the night before. A crazy night shift of fires and equipment problems. I was so tired that morning I passed out on the bed, still in my clothes.?I awaked a little while later to the sound of sirens.?I lived by a highway that led into Manhattan.?The sirens were continuous.?And I had that feeling in the pit of my stomach that something was wrong.

I turned on the TV to the fuzzy images of smoke and the words on the screen ‘World Trade Center Attacked and Destroyed”.?After a moment to pause, another to breathe, I did what every single other member of my department did that day.?I packed a bag and started to figure out how to get into the office.?We all knew we were needed.?But none of us knew what was next.?Many assumed this was only the beginning.?That a greater attack was to come, and this was the opening act.?But we went anyway.?

Like the rest of my 200 fellow dispatch professionals, I made my way to work through whatever means necessary. Through crowds of ash covered people, through a city that was facing something that was the living definition of terror, under the shadow of a towering cloud of rancid black smoke that swirled for all to see—we made it in.?But to do what?

There were no binders or plans to guide what my sister and brother dispatchers did that day. Whether for those who were in the offices at the moment of the attack or for those like myself who came in a little later.?

For many of the people trapped in the towers, the last voices they heard were the calm and reassuring dispatchers trying to provide comfort and guidance for unanswerable questions—people that everyone knew could not be rescued. This is something our personnel had never trained for—it was something they could have never imagined would happen.?But still, they did the best they could—knowing full well what the end result would be.?

And that was only one part of the operation.?The coordination of a massive response of apparatus, the movement of resources around the city to ensure other alarms could be answered—those processes were undertaken just as smoothly as they would have been for any other incident—even though the scale and scope were beyond anything that could have been conceived.

From the dust and debris and rubble of the fallen towers—the responsibility to rebuild some sort of order fell onto the shoulders of FDNY Dispatchers.?There.?Was.?No One else.?Mutual Aid plans were developed and implemented on the fly—the demands of ensuring that resources were available to help at the Towers were met and exceeded—and the ability to respond to other incidents was maintained.?All by a select group of professionals—doing their job with commitment, honor, and grace.?The ability to keep going—to maintain focus—to understand just how important it was that we met the challenge of that situation was something no one told us—but it was something we felt and knew.?

In each of our communications offices, there was what we called an outside phone.?These were the lines used for personal calls.?Each time that line rang that day, it was another notification of someone lost.?Someone we knew.?For too long, we let the same person answer the phone each time and the result of each conversation was the same.?A brief muffled sob, the sharing of a “Thank you for letting us know” and then relay to the rest of those working.?Then we moved back to our work.?We eventually rotated that duty- each time answering a little less eagerly—by then understanding just what was unfolding and just how massive the loss would be.

A few days later one of solemn ceremonies of the FDNY began.?It falls upon dispatchers to make the official announcement of a line of duty death to the department.?A long standing tradition dating from the era of telegraph and borrowed by many other agencies around the US, it is one of the most important duties an FDNY Dispatcher can perform. ?For a few weeks, there were announcements on a regular basis. Then, as recovery became more difficult and identification more complex, the announcements nearly stopped.

I can say that the most difficult impacts for lasted six months or more.?Until March of 2002 we operated on a sort of auto-pilot.?Much like that stunned stupor that afflicts people after a shocking bit of good or bad news.?

On September 11th, 2002 we announced all three-hundred-forty-three.?It took well over an hour.?And on that morning, which had been calm, a fierce wind picked up over the entire city.?As we read the last name, the wind subsided.?And we knew.?

That was not just us however, it was the entire city.?Shocked back into humanity by the events of 9/11, new Yorkers came to know quickly that we needed each other.?That we depended on each other.?This is always true in New York City, especially on a neighborhood level.?But for those six months, maybe a year, it was a citywide level.?NYC truly became the biggest small town in America. People spoke to each other on the street—people smiled—people slowed down just a bit. It was pretty crazy, but it was also pretty wonderful. As many of you may know, New York is a very diverse place.?People off all faiths, all religions, all histories- living as one.?In those days, weeks, and months after 9/11 we were even more of a melting pot, and a beautiful example of just how United these United States can be.?

I think of those 8.5 million people, living and healing together when someone asks what we should we remember about 9/11 or what we need to teach about that day to those who did not live through it.?

Sadly, all it takes is one political discussion with a stranger or sometimes a friend to see that we have, in many ways, started to forget the lesson that all need each other.?We cannot accomplish great things, much less overcome the tragedies to come if we constantly highlight the definitions that divide us rather than the similarities and shared ground that unite us.

If we lead with anger or fear rather than empathy and respect we will not repeat the accomplishments of those who sacrificed on 9/11, nor will we be able to live up to the example of the New Yorkers who came together in those dark days.?Our communities demand that we find that common ground again.?It is not a political thing—it is an American thing and the great part is: we have done it before.?

From the women and men with whom I was so blessed to serve comes an equally important lesson.?Commitment.?Whether you were a firefighter climbing the stairs of a burning tower, a paramedic caring for the injured, a police officer helping victims to safety, or a dispatcher easing the last moments of someone trapped with no way out—each person gave their all for someone—for a stranger—for their community.?They did what had to be done.?Even though they could not imagine, truly, what that would mean.?

On that particular day we lost three-hundred forty three firefighters; thirty seven port authority police officers; twenty three NYPD members, and eight EMS personnel.?In the years that have followed we have lost many more to cancer, to the after effects of physical injuries, and to the emotional scars that just wouldn’t heal.?

Today is, in many ways, a day to honor those brave and loving souls.?But I would also like to challenge you to remember and share the even greater lessons of that day.?We are all in this together.?We all need each other.?

History, especially of events like 9/11, must not be something we store in the attic, only to pull out on holidays or when distant relatives visit.?History serves its best purpose when we live with it, acknowledge its lessons, and accept that it provides important insights to who and how we are today—and who and how we must be tomorrow.

9/11 teaches us clearly something we must always remember:

When we recognize the value and the worth of each of our fellow human beings, we can accomplish amazing things.?We can solve incredible problems.?We can save innumerable lives.?We can bring order from chaos.?

We can help make sure that the lessons of September 11 2001 are not...ever…forgotten.