September 11: Remembering, Serving, and Choosing to Love More
By Michael Sgro
When I think of the most important set of experiences I have had, it was working with these four women at NYU. We were in the inner circle, and our teamwork benefited our school, the students and the various stakeholders in New York City. It was only 5 months in my job that a life changing event would forever make these women my sisters.
There are some days that divide your life into a “before” and an “after.” September 11, 2001, is one of those days.
I was working at the Stern School of Business at NYU that morning. Like so many people in New York City, I began the day expecting nothing more than another ordinary day at work. Instead, I found myself living through an experience that would forever change how I understood loss, humanity, service, and love. It was my late start day, so I was going to be at work at 10AM but that morning, I was trapped on the F train subway between 34th and 23rd streets.
As we got to 34th street train station, folks entered the train with different energy and many of us starting talking to them as they sat down. During this time, I encountered a woman next to me who had been evacuated from the Empire State Building. She was frightened and overwhelmed. I didn't have answers for her as she kept saying, "The plane hit the building." None of us knew at that point was was happening but I could offer something simple: another human being willing to sit beside someone upset and comforted her.
There is something uniquely frightening about being underground while something unimaginable is happening above you. Information came to us in fragments. People were trying to understand what was happening, what was safe, and what they should do next. Fear was spreading everywhere.
That moment has stayed with me. In the middle of one of the most terrifying days in American history, there was still an opportunity to help another person feel a little less alone and we just hugged each other waiting to get to West 4th, very slowly. It was about an hour that we were delayed, as unbeknownst to us, the train authorities were pulling trains south of the city, out of harms way and holding us until all trains were clear of southern Manhattan. That act alone saved so many lives.
As I got out on West Fourth, the man who usually preached that it was the end of world was missing from his underground stoop. As I got to street level, he was in the middle of the street yelling that "Today was the end." I immediately started to run to work and when I got there it was mayhem. Messages from the Dean to go to class, turned into, literally run for your lives amongst all New Yorker's who were watching the towers fall, lower Manhattan getting covered with ashes and debris.
We spent most of the day trying to bring comfort to the students (and each other), learning about who was at the towers that day, starting to piece together that we were attacked and lost friends, alumni, and our sense of safety and security. I figured out how to install a program on all of our computers, so we could call home, as cell phones were not working, and worked with my colleagues to get food into the building, as we were all getting exhausted. It was only at around 5PM that the F train started running again and that is when I went home and spent another week watching the TV and all that unfolded.
And then there was the strange realization of what might have been. I had a meeting scheduled at Windows on the World (Tower one) for September 12, 2001. The meeting, never happened. The events of September 11 made that appointment impossible, but knowing it had been scheduled for the following day gave the tragedy an intensely personal dimension. It was a reminder of how close we can be to history without ever realizing it.
September 11 also brought profound personal loss.
We lost Daniel Brandhorst, along with Ron and baby David. Dan's loss has remained especially meaningful to me. Dan was someone who inspired me to serve my community. His example helped shape the person I became and the way I think about giving back to other people. When someone inspires you to serve, their influence doesn't end when they are gone. It becomes part of your responsibility to carry something forward.
That is one of the ways I choose to remember Dan, Ron and David.
I serve.
I try to show up.
I try to help people find their strength, their humanity, and their ability to make a difference.
Over the years, I've thought a lot about what it means to honor September 11. We can remember the names. We can tell the stories. We can visit memorials. We can talk about the extraordinary courage of first responders, volunteers, families, survivors, and ordinary people who helped one another.
But I believe remembrance also has to become action.For me, that action is captured in two words: Love More.
Love More isn't about pretending the world is always kind. It isn't about ignoring conflict, pain, anger, or injustice. And it certainly doesn't mean forgetting what happened. It means refusing to allow hatred and fear to have the final word.
September 11 taught me that humanity can be incredibly fragile. But it also showed me something equally powerful: people will run toward danger to save strangers. People will open their homes. People will comfort someone they have never met. People will give blood, offer food, search for survivors, care for children, support families, and stand beside one another.
In the darkest moments, people can choose humanity. That is what I want to remember.
I honor September 11 by trying to be the person who stands beside someone on the subway when they are afraid. I honor Dan by continuing to serve. I honor Ron and baby David by remembering that every life matters and every person leaves an impact. And I honor all those we lost by choosing to live with greater compassion rather than greater hatred.
Twenty-five years later, September 11 remains a day of tremendous sadness. There are memories that never disappear and losses that can never be replaced but remembrance gives us a choice. We can remember only what was destroyed or we can also remember what people gave.
Courage.
Compassion.
Service.
Sacrifice.
Love.
My commitment is to carry those things forward. I cannot change what happened on September 11, 2001 but I can choose what I do with the life I was given afterward.
I can serve.
I can care.
I can comfort.
I can lead with empathy.
And, every day, I can Love More.
That is how I remember. That is how I honor Dan, Ron and baby David. And that is how I choose to carry September 11 with me—not simply as a day of unimaginable loss, but as a reminder of our responsibility to one another.
Remember. Serve. Love More.
