From Rolling Stone · Devin Friedman · · 3m
Volunteers at the Gates of Hell
A reporter walks the edge of Ground Zero in September 2001 and finds a street fair pressed against a burning mountain.
In brief
A reporter walks the edge of Ground Zero in September 2001 and finds a street fair pressed against a burning mountain. When catastrophe hits, a city gives what it actually has, and New York had Dove Bars, chiropractors and far more willing hands than jobs. Originally reported by Rolling Stone.
A fence goes up
On the afternoon of September 13th, 2001, a chain-link fence rolled off a truck and became the main gate to Ground Zero within half an hour, with FBI agents checking who had a reason to pass.
A mountain still burning
From blocks away the rubble looked like a small mountain range, in places a hundred feet high, smoke pouring off it and nearby buildings shimmering in the heat hundreds of feet up.
The most incredible dump
Firemen from other cities were being pushed out over liability. One of them, smoking Pall Malls on his way out, summed up what the pile looked like up close.
“It's a fucking dump. But the most incredible dump that's ever been.”
Who runs the city now
National Guard fatigues, NYPD blue, FDNY bunker gear, ironworkers, Con Ed, FEMA, ATF, even DEA. The men in urban-warfare gear had taken over from the bankers and the fashion people.
The city's new accent
The official voice of New York used to be flat and affectless. Now it spoke in borough brogues, the accents of Brooklyn, Queens and Long Island.
Almost a street fair
Harold, fifty-five, from Brooklyn, got past the roadblocks in a thrift-store Red Cross shirt. He looked down Chambers Street and saw something that felt oddly festive.
“If it weren't for the smoldering buildings at the end of the street, it would look like a street fair.”
Snack food's finest hour
McDonald's trailers ran Quarter Pounders with drive-thru efficiency beside oceans of bottled water, Oreos, Hot Pockets and Power Bars. Slow-spoilage packaged food seemed built for exactly this.
Toothbrushes and clean briefs
Word went out that firemen needed saline and toothbrushes, so ten-dollar Italian ones piled up, along with Tinactin, Dial soap, travel Scope and towers of new underwear.
Only in New York
Indian food stations, pasta bars, women in Prada pants handing out Dove Bars, a spa offering saunas and facials, a cop rinsing his shoes with sparkling water, four chiropractors offering adjustments.
“Officer! Officer! You want an adjustment?”
Blockbuster card as ID
Half the work was done by self-appointed volunteers in scavenged hard hats. With official laminates gone, Lawrence from the Bronx wore his driver's license and his Blockbuster card around his neck.
How close did you get
There were more volunteers than jobs, so people invented work and traded proximity stories. Everyone wanted to say how near the mound they had stood, or would have if the dog hadn't needed walking.
“I got to Warren Street. I got to Tower One. I got knocked over when Tower Two came down.”
Three a.m. on the highway
Dump trucks lined the West Side Highway for twenty blocks. Joe thought about body parts in the rubble; Phil described driving home past Staten Island houses that looked so normal it was unbearable.
“so fucking normal”
Here's the gist
When catastrophe hits, a city gives what it actually has, and New York had Dove Bars, chiropractors and far more willing hands than jobs.
