Does it seem like it’s been twenty-two years since America was attacked? Of course, I know people my age remember where they were that morning of September 11, 2001.

More than likely, we were all going about our everyday routine, getting ready for work, or maybe we were already at work. The first plane hit the north tower of the World Trade Center at 8:46 AM EST. So, depending on your time zone, if you were in Alabama, maybe you were just dropping off kids at school or just waking up if you were in Oregon.

8:46 A.M.

North Tower Attack

Five hijackers crash American Airlines Flight 11 into floors 93 through 99 of 1 World Trade Center (North Tower). The 76 passengers and 11 crew members on board and hundreds inside the building are killed instantly. The crash severs all three emergency stairwells and traps hundreds of people above the 91st floor. – timeline.911memorial.org

We normally talk about the heroes who ran into the towers to try and save people, who never came back out. Or the passengers on Flight 93 who diverted the plane from its intended target with a battle cry, “Let’s Roll!” And yes, we should always continue to remember those Americans! Always.

However, there were survivors. Or people who were there in New York City or the Pentagon that lived through that horrible day.

Today, I’d like to share two different stories, briefly, of people who were there. One is a story of recovering from mental health struggles through action, and the other is about sharing that day with a stranger and tracking them down twenty-two years later.

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Rob Weisberg, a volunteer firefighter working in New York City that day, left his office at a software company and headed for the Towers when he heard the call.

In that moment, Weisberg, a longtime volunteer firefighter with Commack Fire Department in New York, didn’t hesitate to answer the call for help. Leaving behind his office job at a software company near the towers, Weisberg instead ran to the New York City Fire Department’s station across the street from the World Trade Center and began helping the injured.

The subsequent attack on the World Trade Center’s South Tower sent a plane engine crashing into the firehouse, barely missing Weisberg. And when the collapse of the towers trapped Weisberg and everyone else at the firehouse under debris, Weisberg helped lead many to safety. – USA Today

He is still haunted by that day, and having survivor’s guilt, he has dealt with many mental health struggles in these 22 years since. This year, however, was going to be different when he decided to do something about it. He set to hiking the Appalachian trail.

Rob Weisberg was about halfway through hiking the arduous 2,190-mile Appalachian Trail when he crossed paths with a young man.

He shared his 9/11 story with the hiking companion and why he was there hiking the trail. According to Weisberg, the young man was moved and confessed to him that he, too, wasn’t OK. And so Weisburg stopped talking about himself and simply listened.

Longtime volunteer firefighter Rob Weisberg didn’t hesitate to help on 9/11, but his heroic acts left him irrevocably scarred 22 years later. https://t.co/oAaPks5uaw

— Akron Beacon Journal (@beaconjournal) September 10, 2023

Weisburg didn’t finish his journey due to a knee injury, but he got in a little over 1,852 miles and raised $14,000 for his cause, Paws of War, which provides support dogs to veterans and first responders.

Bravo, Rob! I think I can speak for us all when I say we wish you continued success in recovery. Thank you.Nancyswikiaccount, CC BY-SA 4.0, via Wikimedia Commons

There Are Others

A lot of other stories.

Paul Ricci is a seasoned television and media executive. He is currently the head of Unscripted Entertainment at BuzzFeed Studios. He recently wrote an article on HuffPost, which was picked up by Yahoo News, about hunkering down in an apartment with a stranger on that morning, twenty-two years ago.

At 8:46 a.m. on Sept. 11, 2001, I was startled awake by a loud boom. It’s the first thing I remember from what would become the unforgettable and terrifying morning I spent with a total stranger just eight blocks away from the World Trade Center.

I had slept over at my then-girlfriend Beth’s new apartment in Tribeca the night before. It was located on Reade Street, less than a mile north of the north face of the WTC’s north tower. – LINK

He explains how he was visiting and was introduced to his then-girlfriend’s roommates and one of their friends, who was also staying the night, on the evening of September 10. The following day, Paul and the other guest were left in the apartment while their friends went off to work early that morning.

In the next few hours, we all know what happened. We all watched it. We all experienced it in our own way. But for the people who were actually there, and to share it with strangers, that has to be extraordinary.

Paul details his morning for the readers, but when he gets to this sentence:

Then I suddenly remembered that I wasn’t alone in the apartment.

It just kind of takes your breath away. Libba Alberson Inlow is the stranger’s name, and Paul didn’t even know it until 22 years later when he decided to finally track her down.

Back in the apartment, twenty-two years ago:

I can’t know for certain what would have happened if we left when I wanted to, but I know it wouldn’t have been good. The footage from that morning is harrowing. This video, at the 0:46 mark, gives a sense of the force with which the plume from the north tower traveled. This one, at the 1:26 mark, shows people ducking for cover. Many of those who were in the streets and survived were covered in dust and debris.

Instead of being among those people when the north tower collapsed, at Libba’s urging, we sheltered in place and watched from our window, petrified, as it eventually began to fall. The spire and top half collapsed straight down upon itself with a guttural, otherworldly sound, and the smoke rumbled toward us at full speed.

Paul and Libba decided to stay in place that morning and only left when they knew it was somewhat safe; all planes were grounded. Eventually, everyone could get out of the city safely and make their other connections.

The author tells us he told his story for a while. Then he stopped.

Then I stopped telling it for a long time. Compared to what some people had been through, my experience felt trivial and insignificant — even exploitative. It paled so greatly, in almost every conceivable way, to the experiences of those who lost loved ones, risked their lives trying to help others, or lost their own lives in all of the incomprehensible moments that followed the first plane’s crash.

Finding Libba, twenty-two years later, he says he feels less agitated by his memory and feels like he can finally close that chapter. While he admits they probably won’t be close friends in the future, knowing that he could see and speak to her years later to thank her for helping him get through that morning was a gift.

I hate that we have this day to mark as an anniversary and a reminder to keep our dear ones close. Or how on that day, America absolutely stood still, watching horrible events happening to us. I wish that it had never happened. But it did. And I wonder if we have learned anything from it? Time is permanent, but it can also be a fickle son of a bitch. Hopefully, we will #NeverForget, but I understand we must keep moving.

Feature Image: Matt Green/Flickr/(CC BY-NC-SA 2.0)