Primary Day in New York was set for September 11, 2001. The focus was going to be on people casting ballots for the mayor and several City Council seats on what was a clear, warm day. I began that morning on West 135th Street at the Frederick E. Samuel Democratic Club, checking election operations.
Shortly before 9 a.m., staff member Yasmin Hurston called to report that a plane had struck the North Tower of the World Trade Center.
Community Liaison Sheri Taft and I crossed the street to Ruthie’s restaurant in Harlem before heading to my office downtown at 1 Centre Street. When I asked the owner to turn on the television, a second plane had hit the South Tower. That was when I knew this was no accident.
I called my downtown office and the Adam Clayton Powell Jr. Harlem State Office
Building; both were evacuating, and everyone was safe, but my executive assistant,
Yohanna Hayes, was still unaccounted for after PATH service was disrupted. Hours later, my legal counsel Denise Outram and I found her near 46th Street and 8th Avenue. She needed to get home to New Jersey, but with transit suspended, she stayed at my home for several nights.
Cellphones had failed and landlines were functioning intermittently, but I eventually reached a sister in Maryland and asked her to tell our family that I was safe. By then, people were filling the streets and turning to me as borough president for answers.
Police cars raced downtown, streets near the 32nd Precinct closed, and my efforts to reach the Mayor’s Office failed. With only news reports available, I urged residents to remain home and follow official updates. My staff and I gathered around the television in shock and disbelief. We could not yet comprehend the lives lost, the physical and emotional toll, or the destruction that
would require years of rebuilding.
The next day, officers from the 32nd Precinct escorted me to Ground Zero with Chief of Staff Luther Smith, Senior Advisor Barbara Baer, and photographer Karl Crutchfield. Several days later, I would revisit the site with Amsterdam News’ Publisher and Editor-in-Chief Elinor Tatum.
Although I knew Manhattan well, I could not orient myself amid the devastation. Smoke and the odor of burning materials filled the air, and the possibility that people remained alive beneath the wreckage was unbearable. The sights and smells stayed with me for months. No one had answers, but everyone asked the same question: Why?
After surveying nearby neighborhoods, I called for help, and volunteers responded. My office organized caravans into the restricted zone with food, medicine, donated cellphones, and other necessities. I assigned a staff member to the Mayor’s Command Center so Lower Manhattan residents’ needs would remain part of the discussion, and we could receive daily briefings.
With vans provided by St. Luke’s–Roosevelt Hospital and the Church of Salvation and Deliverance, staff and volunteers worked with City Council members and community leaders to evacuate buildings and check on residents. In one senior housing development, people were isolated, without food, and running out of medication. For weeks, my staff and I attended community meetings, met with business owners, and helped address urgent needs for housing, transportation, food, water, medicine, phones, and electricity.
The work continued long after the immediate crisis as we helped people rebuild lives marked by grief and profound loss. For four years, my office held interfaith sunrise prayer services each September 11, bringing Lower Manhattan residents together for healing, spiritual strength, and renewed faith.
As we mark the 25th anniversary of the Sept. 11 attacks, I am grateful for Lower Manhattan’s transformation and for the memorial honoring those who died. Businesses returned despite early predictions, and families made the community their home, increasing demand for the schools, parks, supermarkets, and services that sustain a thriving neighborhood.
However, rebuilding cannot be measured only in buildings and businesses. We must continue restoring hope and strengthening lives, communities, and relationships. A quarter-century later, the need for civility and mutual respect remains urgent. Disrespect, bigotry, racism, antisemitism, homophobia, and mistrust still divide communities and, when unchecked, can foster hatred and violence.
The lasting lesson of September 11 is that tragedy can reveal our shared humanity. Honoring those we lost requires more than remembrance; it calls us to practice compassion, reject hatred, serve our neighbors, and renew the unity that carried New York City through its darkest days.
The day remains forever etched in my memory — not only for its devastation, but also for the extraordinary goodwill, compassion, generosity, and solidarity shown by people of every background. Houses of worship filled as faith leaders spoke of pain, forgiveness, healing, love, and hope. Americans stood shoulder to shoulder, praying, singing, and displaying the flag as a symbol of unity.
C. Virginia Fields served as Manhattan Borough President from 1998 to 2005.
