THREE VIDEOS FROM SEPTEMBER 2001
Reporting from Ground Zero the week of September 11, 2001.
*Please note: This post represents my sincere attempt to best recall events that unfolded around me during my time as a reporter for KOB-TV during the week of September 11, 2001. The quotations attributed to individuals named here are not to be considered an exact representation of the specific words spoken by them, but are meant to best represent my memory of what was said by those people (a point noted several times throughout the telling of the story that follows). While listening to the videos, you might notice the low volume of other voices. This is from the “director’s track” of audio (voices of employees directing the newscast).
Because the landmark 10th anniversary of the September 11, 2001 terrorist attacks is now upon us, this seems to be the time for writing about “where we were” and “what we remember” about that historic day. My memories….my story…are no more important than yours or any other person’s. I just happened to be a journalist who reported from Ground Zero the week of September 11.
For a few reasons, I haven’t spoken much about my September 11 experiences. Just saying, “I was there,” might strike some as a puffed-up pronouncement. And in no way do I mean to include myself among the men, women and children who truly suffered, nor should the intensity of my experience be mentioned in the same breath of the truly courageous men and women who responded to that day’s attacks on this country.
My mind was very much in “work mode” at the time, by I can tell you that from the moment photographer John Blake and I first approached Ground Zero—huge plumes of smoke and ash still rising—an awareness was also borne within me that we were about to immerse ourselves within a place—an experience—that felt akin to being sacred.
Adrenalin was very much on the front burner. So were logistics and deadlines. But it all unfolded upon that template of sensitivity and respect for the place, the people and the moment.
No combination of camera and words could ever truly capture all to be seen, heard and felt. That would have been as futile as trying to make out the stars above that smoke and ash-filled skyline.
Truth is, that even today, it’s as if a haze still lingers, obscuring stories yet untold. Perhaps that’s for the best.
Within this post, you can find three videos featuring live reports from Manhattan. Until a few days ago, the tape containing these stories had been boxed-away in storage for about 7 years.
On the first anniversary of the September 11 attacks, I had created the tape at the request of University of New Mexico adjunct professor Anthony Hatch. He had invited me to speak to journalism students about my experiences at Ground Zero, the Pentagon and Shanksville, Pennsylvania (I had traveled to all three locations). I accepted professor Hatch’s invitation and, as he’d requested, I brought along a videotape featuring a few of my “9-11 stories.”
For the next two years, as September 11 approached, I’d return to UNM to share my experiences with professor Hatch’s journalism class. These were the only moments wherein I found myself speaking in sizable scope and detail about my coverage of events concerning the terrorist attacks. In that venue, I found that I enjoyed the questions from students, especially challenging questions concerning ethics.
And when I recognized that some questions offered wiggle-room for an “acceptable answer” rather than the uncomfortable truth about the way the TV businesses can sometimes work, I chose to share the stuff that was harder to swallow. My purpose for sharing was not to boast nor promote, but simply to relay what I had experienced, witnessed and felt. It seemed to me that the students appreciated that approach.
So, this weekend I’ve looked at the three stories that were on that tape I’d prepared for professor Hatch’s journalism class. These stories break no new ground. They weren’t entered for any awards. And they’re far from perfect (in one I actually refer to a bandana featuring stars and stripes as a “flag”). But these accounts do shed a bit of light on what I saw, what I experienced. And there’s always the chance that someone who appeared in one of these news stories (or their relative or friend) will discover these videos here or on YouTube and appreciate the opportunity to reflect.
My employer ten years ago, KOB-TV in Albuquerque, had tasked John and I with finding stories in New York with a “New Mexico connection.” That proved frustrating. And to be candid, John endured some bitching and moaning from me about that aspect of our mission. After all, we would have so many dramatic stories swirling around us, but because they were devoid of anything New Mexico, we couldn’t pursue them.
Compounding that frustration, our time would also to be spent hunting for people from New Mexico and getting them to look at the camera to tell their friends and family back home, “I’m okay” (or words to that effect). Those soundbites were to be used as “bumpers” going into commercial breaks throughout our newscasts.
I understand the reasoning behind the pursuit of such bumper fodder. They’d help distinguish our station’s coverage from the competition’s.
This seems like the appropriate moment to address a viewpoint that I suspect some reading this post will surely be thinking: “No station clear across the country in New Mexico should have been sending a news crew to the attacked areas in the first place!”
After all, rescue and recovery crews were already dealing with enough chaos and media. Why add to that stress?
And you know what? It’s a great argument. But I’m not going to counter it here. I do believe that there are points which have merit on both sides of that discussion.
What I will tell you is that while at home on Tuesday morning, September 11, I received a phone call from KOB assignments editor Orlando Medina, telling me something like, “Horner, we need you to get in here right away. A plane’s just crashed into the World Trade Center.”
At that moment, I imagined a small aircraft, perhaps a Cessna. I thought, surely, “accident.” Then, I turned on the morning news shows. And learned that a second commercial jet airliner had just struck the second of the Twin Towers.
I immediately called the station and asked to speak with my news director, Chris Berg, telling him that if the station were to send a reporter to New York, I wanted to be that reporter.
As I recall, Chris said something like, “Why would we want to send a crew to New York?”
I don’t remember with certainty how I responded to that question. I do know that my adrenalin was churning, a huge story was unfolding, and I wanted to be on it.
I won’t say there’s logic or even anything noble in that mindset. I’m reminded of Pavlov’s dog. Many journalists simply become conditioned this way. A true statement that I’m sure sets me up for some criticism, too. But it is my honest opinion.
Hopefully, you can see that I don’t aim to romanticize my memories or even neuter the language concerning what I experienced.
As I recall, it was on Thursday, September 13, that my news director blurted, “Horner, you still want to go to New York?”
My response was both immediate and short, words such as, “Absolutely, let’s make it happen now.”
What had changed? In large part, it seemed, it was the opportunity to follow a New Mexico man straight into the darkness of Ground Zero where he aimed to literally pull survivors from that living nightmare.
That New Mexico man’s name was Doug Copp. I was told he’d rescued people from the aftermath of earthquakes in several countries. This was his area of expertise and he was apparently known to be among the world’s finest at locating and rescuing living people buried within disaster zones.
I vividly recall seeing Copp for the first time as he walked into the KOB newsroom. Dressed in some sort of red jumper or rescue uniform. He was a large man, who appeared to me be slightly disheveled and about 30-pounds overweight. Not a bad looking guy. Just not the more toned body I had expected to be associated with a person who spends grueling days crawling through buried rubble while searching for the faintest signs of human life.
Copp was accompanied by a much smaller gentleman who seemed to be his handler or PR man. Not that Copp needed someone to speak-up for him; for he spoke enthusiastically as he voluntarily told several stories of his successful rescues in third world countries.
A little thing inside this reporter started to chime a bit: the ol’ “BS Detector.” I told my boss that I wasn’t sure about this one, that this guy Copp seemed affable enough, but these stories that he and his colleague were trumpeting seemed, well, a tad over-the-top.
The stories, the red jump suit….I told my boss….well, this act seemed more likely to be found near a circus tent than a command post.
But the overwhelming public opinion was that Doug Copp was legit. Many publications around the world had chronicled his exploits. My feelings then flirted with guilt for having considered Copp in a possible negative light. If he was the “real deal,” then he’d truly made great sacrifices to save human lives.
Regardless, the TV station wanted the story in front of Copp. The one about to unfold in New York. And I was assigned to tell it. If that was my ticket to the scene of the biggest story happening in the world, I was willing to snatch it up.
Air travel was pretty much of out of the question. Most airports were still closed following the attacks.
Copp’s sidekick told us we could join them on a private jet to New York. That jet just so happened to belong to Tommy Lang, owner of the Albuquerque Journal.
Why on earth, I rhetorically asked John Blake, would Tommy Lang fly us to New York? We were competitors. Still, Copp’s team urged us to appear at a designated airport hangar. We did. Copp and his companion boarded the plane. A female Journal reporter inside the jet momentarily poked her head out from inside, then disappeared back into the plane.
Seconds later we were told that we would not be allowed onto the flight.
Surprised? Hardly.
That Thursday afternoon, as I recall, John and I set-out for New York in a rented Lincoln Navigator. And, we blazed quite a trail, never stopping to eat inside a restaurant. Only stopping for drive-thru and gas stations with mini-marts. To save time, I remember forgoing at least one much needed restroom stop and simply peeing into a jar or bottle.
I’ll never forget that drive: Passing a huge 19-story high cross outside of Amarillo, Texas. People on overpasses above Interstate-40 waving American flags and cheering at the traffic passing below. Radio reports that still spoke of hope of finding survivors where the Twin Towers had come crashing…and melting…down.
Still en route to New York, John and I decided to make a quick beeline for Stoney Creek Township near Shanksville, Pennsylvania. We wanted to quickly shoot some b-roll of the area where United Airlines Flight 93 had crashed after passengers attempted to regain control of the jet from the al-Qaeda terrorists whom had hijacked it.
By Friday evening, John and I could see the smoke rising from Manhattan. We’d driven from Albuquerque to Shanksville to New York in about 31 hours.
We called our station in New Mexico.
“We’re almost there. We can see the smoke rising from Ground Zero. It’s less than an hour ’til news time. You want us to go live? We can describe what we’re seeing.”
“What? We weren’t expecting you guys until tomorrow night’s show,” is the response I recall from a colleague in Albuquerque.
The station made some quick phone calls to see if there were any live trucks already on scene in Manhattan that we might somehow be able to use. Turned out a station from Albany was using a Conus truck. We could use it to go live.
We managed to get to the Conus truck about 20-minutes prior to news time. It was one of numerous live trucks parked curbside along a road that lead directly to the World Trade Center site. People also lined that road, cheering, waving flags and blasting horns each time one of the many freshly-filled dump trucks emerged hauling large chunks of concrete and twisted metal.
Truck after truck after truck passed by.
We were many blocks, perhaps two-to-three miles, from where the Twin Towers had long stood. The better part of four days had passed since the attacks on the Twin Towers. Yet, so much smoke and ash continued to rise and was clearly visible in the night sky.
And we were live.
It had all taken a bit of a toll, though. The non-stop drive across most of the country. The lack of sleep. The pressure felt while searching-out that Conus truck and setting-up to go live….well, John and I got ornery with each other while preparing to go live.
The live shot went fine. Agitations went away.
John and I could start to decompress, and also consider what we had just achieved: We’d arrived at the scene of this most important story a day before the station expected us to do so and delivered a live report on that evening’s 10pm newscast.
In New Mexico, word was out. KOB had a crew on the scene in New York. And we’d told our viewers we’d be bringing them stories with connections to New Mexico.
***
It’s now just past 9pm on September 10 as I continue to write this post. There is a temptation to continue writing in detail about those moments experienced ten years ago. But I will surrender to brevity. In no particular order, here are some of the moments I most well remember:
The Ash
On our first morning in New York, John and I managed to drive much closer to Ground Zero. And as we did so, I noticed several inches of ash upon the bumpers of cars parked along streets. Instantly, I remembered May 18, 1980; the day Mt. St. Helens erupted in my home state of Washington. Suddenly, the hope for finding survivors at the World Trade Center seemed greatly diminished. I remember telling John that what remains of many of the people who’d been in those buildings must be in that ash.
The Posters
The posters of missing people. They were everywhere. Fences, walls covered from top to bottom. I remember pausing and just staring into the face featured on one of those posters. He was an African American boy of about 4 or 5 years of age. And he had a beautiful smile.
New Yorkers
This was my first visit to New York. The people could not have been kinder. I was extremely impressed. Strangers offered John and I the opportunity to stay at their homes.
The Marriott at Times Square and terrorism expert Christopher Whitcomb
John and I initially stayed at a hotel away from Times Square. But John realized it would be work better, logistically, if we could be near that area. So, we moved to the Marriott at Times Square. Terrorism expert and former FBI agent Christopher Whitcomb happened to be in New York with John’s brother, Joe Blake. Whitcomb had just written a book about terrorism. Timely. We interviewed him outside on a bench, but he first met us high-up in that Marriott. Whitcomb seemed to feel a bit uneasy, pointing out that it was the Jewish New Year and, quite obviously, our hotel seemed to have perhaps the largest local gathering of Jews celebrating the event. Indeed, it had the the feel of a convention. I recall Whitcomb telling us something like, “You realize you guys are probably in the world’s most target-rich environment for yet another terrorist attack at this moment?” Thus, our interview with Mr. Whitcomb was done outside. Away from the hotel. On a park bench. And Christopher Whitcomb would soon become a regularly seen “terrorism expert” on NBC, MSNBC and CNBC.
Doug Copp
Copp went into and beneath the debris at Ground Zero. His team recorded the moment and shared the video with us. We were grateful for the use of that video. Three years later, the Albuquerque Journal published a 4-part series devoted to Copp, his claims and his having received more than $600,000 in “tax free” money from the Feds. The Journal requires a paid subscription, but part 4 of reporter Leslie Linthicum’s series can be found via a simple Google search and read without having to subscribe. That article appears beneath the headline, “Knucklehed” or Hero? Meantime, Copp continues to fiercely defend his claims. He maintains a blog and regularly updates it with new material, including responses to those who criticize him and/or question his credibility. Copp’s blog can be found at dougcopp.wordpress.com. One last note about Copp. I do remember that John and I had both been very impressed with a young member of his team. As I recall, this man had traveled to New York from his home in Wisconsin. His name was Robert Verhelst and he does appear in the video below.
Driving Home
The drive home included a stop in the nation’s capitol to file a report from the Pentagon. This was also my first visit to Washington, D.C. I was amazed at the size of the Pentagon and, more notably, I stood in awe as I stared at the massive hole made by the aircraft that had crashed into it.
A Smoky Mountain Sunrise
I will always remember the sunrise in my rear view mirror while traveling in Tennessee. John and I were on our way back to New Mexico. We’d just emerged from the Smoky Mountains. The morning light revealed a beautiful state with winding rivers lined with still lush, green trees.
John Blake
Driving non-stop to New York, working days-on-end on a major story, then driving non-stop back to Albuquerque…well, that much time in a car with the same traveling companion can be a challenge for most anyone. But we pulled it off. And despite all that we’d seen and been through, I distinctly remember some wonderful shared laughter finally emerging during that drive home. And while we now live in different parts of the country, John and I remain very good friends today.
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