So Much More Good: My Journalist’s Perspective on September 11th from 30 Rock

I was there that day—a producer for NBC Network News, sitting at my 30 Rockefeller Plaza desk that morning before the first tower was struck. And I was there for everything after. This is what I try to focus on about this day and the months that followed: good ripples, too.

While good does have a ripple effect, I have to work at focusing on the good of this day, especially when I think of the three thousand deaths that ballooned to millions in wars overseas, as well as illnesses that took time to develop and claim lives. When I consider the war on terror that continues unabated, the terror experienced by those on the planes emerges in my thoughts. Their courage in the face of death—dang it. See how quickly that happened?! The bad is so horrible that it becomes embedded and seeps out. I try to use the good to chip away at the bad. It works, of course, but it takes time and effort. Because the truth is, the good is embedded, too. The kindnesses I witnessed were so everyday and widespread. The courage, the heart, the care for strangers—goodness is soft and humble. Horrors are dressed up in a top hat, as Toni Morrison says. We must work not to give them top billing.

“Evil wears a top hat and it has tap shoes and a cape, and it’s on stage, and it’s hollerin’. And goodness is always backstage, sort of waving, but [evil] takes up all the energy because it is nothing. It’s gotta have a costume.” — Toni Morrison, 2015, 92NY. “For years now, I’ve just been bored, bored, bored with evil. It’s just not interesting.”

And that is the thing: evil isn’t interesting. We saw it in the recent presidential debate. That individual was hollerin’ and we were bored with it. Toni is always wise (that Aquarius thing).

The Ripple Effect of Goodness

Good waves backstage, and it did on September 11th, 2001, and in the days that followed. The outpouring of love from near and abroad was felt by those of us on that island, even in our numb state. It helped us pull through the horror of watching downtown burn for months—many months. There were, of course, funerals and vigils that came in waves in the weeks and months after. The love and care from so many, near and far, got people through. It rippled. Even those of us who didn’t openly discuss love or self-identify with PTSD felt its impact. Even as politicians lied about the harmful effects of downtown burning (EPA head and former NJ Governor Christie Todd Whitman), kindnesses helped us endure. Even as politicians misrepresented their actions and motivations that day and in the months before and after (President George Bush, VP Dick Cheney, US Attorney General John Ashcroft)—whoops, see, I did it again.

Community Resilience

Manhattan was closed down—no one on or off of the island. That’s what happens with crime scenes.

People stepped up, offering their homes, food, and support. Strangers opened their homes and shared whatever they could.

New York City was closed. The U.S. stopped. U.S. airspace was closed for days. The world shut down. All eyes were on Manhattan.

All eyes were on America and its citizens—everyday people who stepped up. It was an avalanche of love, caring, and giving. It was beautiful. Amidst the sadness, grief, and crying, love prevailed as people held each other with whatever they could.

There was D.C., of course, and Pennsylvania, but Manhattan received the focus. . It was burning, and the skyline changed in a matter of hours.

NYC was the center of the world, not just finance. It made sense that it got the focus.

In the sadness, confusion, and fear, people came together.

The lines of people waiting to donate blood for recipients who would never come.

Construction workers, firefighters, and emergency workers got in cars and vans, driving to New York, unsure if they could get in or do anything—waiting to help. I tear up as I write this.

Waiting to help. People showed up. People show up.

Observations from the Ground

I spent months on the West Side Highway below Canal, sitting in a satellite truck, waiting and watching. No one walked by. No cars whizzed by. Ever.

For months. Lower Manhattan was closed for a while, and the West Side Highway longer. No boats. That’s what happens with crime scenes.

But every so often, a construction truck would come by, past the barricade, U.S. flags waving. With nothing else moving, it was emotional to see the name of a company from far away doing work. For months, that continued. Everyone came to help. Everyone wanted to help.

There really is so much more good.

The Weight of Grief

I watched the burning for months. From fire to black smoke. Months and months of smoke. I honestly thought it wouldn’t end. When would it end? The reminder that it was a graveyard never left. I watched trucks come in for weeks and eventually start to move out materials. Progress never felt so sad. Lower Manhattan was devoid of people for months, but it was also full of people—the dead.

The smoke rising felt like their presence was raging. It seemed right. And we didn’t want to forget. We also wanted it to rage. We were mad. We feared the fire dying; then it would be over.

No one spoke about it being full of the energy of the dead, of course; woo-woo was not done here and not then. (Oprah had recently been vilified in the late ’90s for her segment “Remembering Your Spirit”. Look it up.) But it was a feeling. Not talking about things doesn’t make them go away.

A graveyard. Lower Manhattan became a graveyard in a matter of hours.

The Role of Heroes

And heroes came—to share their talent for managing construction and organization, to offer grief counseling and rebuilding. They reminded us that it wouldn’t always be a graveyard and that we would heal. They helped us through unimaginable grief and moved us toward the next phase.

The Importance of Journalism

Journalism is full of hard things, but it also provides us with the good to see up close. More than the evils—every time. Every. Time. Goodness waves backstage. I caught glimpses of her in New York during those years. And I remember: there really is so much more good. I hope we always do.

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Let’s get #somuchmoregood going…so on your IG posts please share your moments of this.