NEW SERIES: Beyond the Badge With Kissimmee Police Chief Chuck Broadway Reflecting on September 11 and a Promise to Never Forget

24 years ago, the first responders, true Heroes, rushed into those buildings to save countless others while uncertain about their own personal safety knowing that they may not make it out alive. This response are heroic actions that first responders take every single day to serve and protect others. We all remember where we were, or what you were doing when the news announced that a plane crashed into the World Trade Center.  A day I will never forget. A day that quickly turned into weeks and then months of search and recovery efforts.

September 10, 2001, was another ordinary day for me. I was a Detective for the New York City Police Department assigned to the Brooklyn North Street Crime Unit. This was a plainclothes unit with the main goal of addressing violent felony crimes in progress. That evening, I was assigned to work a 6pm to 2am shift. I got home in the early hours of September 11, 2001 and went straight to bed. As I was asleep, I was woken up by a phone call and was told “Chuck you need to report back to work because a plane just crashed into the North Tower of the World Trade Center”. Still in disbelief and in shock I turned on my television and could not believe what I saw. Moments later as I’m getting dressed and ready for work, the news reported that another plane crashed into the South Tower of the World Trade Center. I kissed my wife and daughter goodbye and rushed into work from Long Island. As I got closer to Brooklyn, traffic became very heavy due to law enforcement personnel diverting all traffic from entering the city. I remember showing an Officer my ID and Police badge to let me continue travelling to work and he escorted me through the traffic. My first day, September 11, 2001, I was assigned to the Brooklyn side of the Brooklyn Bridge. This bridge takes you from Brooklyn into Manhattan.

Just Total mayhem. Did not know if we were still under attack. I was directing vehicular and pedestrian traffic. People walking across the Brooklyn bridge trying to get out of Manhattan. People trying to get into Manhattan to ascertain if their loved ones were alive. Cell phone towers were down. People just breaking down crying in the streets and on the sidewalks. First responders feeling the heaviness and reality of what occurred and becoming visibly emotional. I remember as it was like yesterday, a young man on a motorcycle shows me a photo of a young woman and yells out to me. “Officer, have you seen my wife” Feeling helpless at that moment, I responded “sorry I have not seen your wife. I was then assigned to spend several days at Ground Zero for what I wanted to believe to be search and rescue efforts; but the stark reality was days and months of search and recovery efforts. I spent several hours on the bucket brigade. The fallen buildings were so unstable, that engineers were worried that the weight of trucks and cranes would cause the wreckage to shift and collapse again, so a line of firefighters and police officers would pass five-gallon buckets full of rubble to clear the area. Then we would sift carefully through the debris and recover and collect human remains and belongings of the perished, meanwhile, huge fires continued to burn at the center of the pile. Many times, I believed I heard banging from survivors, which raised our hopes, only to be met with heart break, when we found nothing. With the fires continuing to smolder for nearly a month, we dug and searched; constantly aware of the potential dangers of the pile of rubble and debris shifting as well as the risk of surrounding buildings collapsing.

I remember the devastation of bent steel. Steel that does not bend was curved from its original shape as if it was elastic. Broken glass, office equipment, documents, debris everywhere and twisted buildings. Structures that once were a sight to see and visit and buildings that once were places of employment and entertainment for many; now just tons and tons of rubble with smoke emitting from them. I remember coming home smelling like burnt rubber and my clothes covered in soot.

Several weeks later I was assigned to a Landfill on Staten Island where tons of debris were brought from ground zero in large trucks and laid out on the ground. I and several others sifted through the debris. I remember recovering several articles of clothing, identification, jewelry, a revolver firearm and several items of sentimental value. The recovery of those items were so important to people because it helped bring some closure to the families who lost loved ones that day. Several did not get a chance to bury their loved ones.

As we pay tribute to the lives lost on September 11, 2001, lets also never forget the first responders who are still dying every year due to being exposed to the dangerous toxins and contaminates. I lost a Police Captain- Barry Galfano, who I worked for while assigned to the Brooklyn North Street Crime Unit. He passed in 2011 from an illness he contracted from inhaling dangerous toxic materials while participating in the rescue and recovery efforts. Sergeant Stephen Scalza, who passed in 2014 from an illness he contracted from inhaling the dangerous contaminates while participating in the rescue and recovery efforts. He was a close friend of mine and fellow graduate of North Babylon high school, class of 1990, and a high school football teammate. He joined the NYPD a few years before I did and I remember him encouraging me to hurry up, graduate college and apply. He loved being a Cop and loved his job so much that he inspired me and encouraged me to join this honorable profession.