My first trip to New York City's Ground Zero was early in 2002.  I was with FDNY firefighter Vince, a 20+ year veteran who was "On the Job" on Sept. 11, 2001.  The day terrorists slammed two commercial jets, Flight 11 and Flight 175 into the World Trade Center towers in Lower Manhattan.

A dust covered calendar plate survived and found in the rubble of the World Trade Center as a reminder of the date.

            Vince was there but never wanted to be referred to as a hero. He didn't want his photo taken or his full name printed.  When folks stopped him on the street to say "thanks", he replied with a courteous yet blunt, "Don't thank me, I'm no hero – thank the 343 who died here trying to save others."

            The terrorists killed more than 2,900 people that day in the Big Apple and more than 250 died that same day in attacks on the Pentagon in Washington D.C. and in a foiled attack on another U.S. location when passengers overwhelmed them and Flight 93 crashed near Shanksville, Pennsylvania.

            The site where the towers once stood along with other World Trade Center buildings destroyed on 9/11 had turned from a rescue site to a recovery site a few months earlier and the task of finding, identifying, and returning anything so families could get any measure of closing, was enormous.

For months after the terrorist attack on the World Trade Center, recovery workers labored meticulously, searching through the rubble.

            A large front-end loader would scoop up tons of debris and carefully spread it out over a 100-foot-long path.  Then, a small army of retired firefighters and active firefighters in straight lines combed through that debris looking for any sign of a personal item or remains that could help verify the fate of the victims of the attack.  Retired members of the FDNY, wearing their old and out-of-date bunker coats, pants, and work shoes searched for lost friends, family members, and others.  Many were searching for the remains of their sons who wanted nothing more than to follow their father's legacy.

The overhead pathway that took pedestrians over West Street from the Hudson River side of Lower Manhattan to the World Trade Center still stands after the towers fell.

            With the delicate grace of the gem cutters who once occupied the site, the recovery workers sifted through the grains looking for human remains or anything else that would help identify and verify the fate of the victims.

            Many recovery workers were troubled that in all of the time they spent in the pit, they never found a chair, desk, computer, or anything that would resemble normal furnishings found in an office – everything was pulverized.  The dust even enveloped the tombstones of the nearby St. Paul's Church.  The church also acted as a sanctuary, staffed by volunteers, for weary recovery workers to grab a little food and water.    

            At the time I was there, the recovery workers had already found more than 15,000 remains that were currently undergoing a DNA-matching process in an attempt to identify them.

            When something was found, the finder's hand would go up and Vince would respond to that spot to geographically mark the location.  The item(s) were taken to a temporary morgue set up at Ground Zero.

            Then, the search resumed.

            On and on, for weeks the process continued.  I never heard any complaints.

            The noble work of the volunteers was performed next to the site of the Miracle Cross.  When all else crumbled to the earth in a cloud of dust and stacks of twisted steel, a section of beams that supported Five-World Trade Center remained standing in an inspiring pose.  It is in the shadow of this enigma that Mass was conducted every Sunday for the recovery workers.  A makeshift pulpit, surrounded by anything that would hold a candle, provided spiritual comfort and strength for the weary legions. 

            Construction workers initially wanted to remove the beam.  However, recovery workers stood fast and refused to allow this symbol of faith to become a victim of the wrecking ball.

            This beacon of hope was fitted with a reinforced concrete base and served as a reminder to all who saw it that as we move forward, we must never forget.