In My Shoes

Some stories stay with us long after the moment has passed. For me, one of those stories began on September 11, 2001, when I was working in New York City’s animal welfare community and found myself supporting pet owners in the aftermath of one of the darkest days in our nation’s history. Twenty-five years later, I still have a tangible reminder of those days, and of the people, animals, and colleagues who were part of an experience I will never forget. I originally shared this story five years ago, but as I continue my work in animal welfare, it feels just as relevant today. I’m reposting it here because sometimes the stories that remind us why our work matters most are the ones worth telling again.

Like many folks, I have a box where I keep items of sentimental value to me. The largest items in that box are these pretty unremarkable shoes that are tightly sealed in a bag. These shoes serve as a reminder of one of the most significant times in my career, and life. As many of you know, I was the IT Director for NYC Animal Care & Control when the tragic events of 9/11 occurred. While I was waiting on equipment to implement our disaster recovery plan, I volunteered to support our field officers.

A few days later we got the call, our team was to provide support to pet owners to retrieve their pets from Battery Park City; a community adjacent to Ground Zero. We were told to assemble our 12 trucks at the Brooklyn side of the Manhattan Bridge. We lined up and were given a police escort across the bridge. Those who know Manhattan, know that the Manhattan bridge ends at Canal Street, a wide boulevard that runs across the island. As we pulled onto the street, we saw the crowds of people with signs and banners. And as we approached, we started to hear them cheering us on, as they recognized our vehicles it got so loud it was deafening. While at the same time, amazing!

As quick as it came, it dissipated and we continued on to the Westside Highway, which was converted to a staging area. There, we received our instructions. Each officer would be matched with an owner and escort them back to their apartment where they would grab their pets and nothing else, we would return to this area and the ASPCA would provide veterinary care as needed. This might seem relatively simple, but these were high rise buildings and there was no power.

I ended up doing 3 runs with pet owners, all of whom lived above the 20th floor. The final run, retrieving an overweight beagle, who was terrified of stairs, from the 32nd floor really did me in. The owner and I took turns carrying the constantly squirming, 40 lb. guy down to safety.

As you have likely guessed, these are the shoes I wore that day but there's a bit more to it. As we trekked to each building, we were walking in about a foot deep of ash and debris. When I got home, I wanted to clean them but realized that this ash is connected to the people lost in the towers. I couldn't bring myself to do it. So, I put them in the plastic bag, and I have kept that day, and the lives lost in my memory ever since.