Rise Up: A 9/11 Remembrance

September 11, 2001, was historic. Like Pearl Harbor or JFK’s assassination, most people who lived through that day recall exactly where they were and what they were doing when news came that airliners had hit the Twin Towers in New York, and then the Pentagon in DC, with a fourth plane being downed in Pennsylvania en route to another target in Washington. 

9/11 also was deeply personal for many, including me. I was born in Manhattan and spent a lot of time in the city growing up. The Twin Towers were being built when I was a baby and had been a dominant part of the NYC skyline my whole life.

I grew up in Warwick, NY, just over an hour away. The town was home in my youth to a significant number of New York City police officers and firefighters. I went to school with their sons and daughters, and classmates followed into service as first responders — some of the front-line heroes who responded to the attacks.

Most importantly, two friends were lost. Mary Lou Hague was a sorority sister with my wife Courtenay and passed out programs at our wedding just three years earlier. That day in 2001, Mary Lou was on the 89th floor of the South Tower of the World Trade Center for what seemed like a normal Tuesday at her investment banking job. Barbara Olson was a leader at the organization where Courtenay and I had met while working in Washington. Barbara boarded American Airlines flight 77 bound for Los Angeles and ended up crashing into the Pentagon instead. Both women were talented, caring, and beloved by many. 

We all experienced a torrent of emotions in the days that followed 9/11, including disbelief, fear, anger, and grief. There was confusion about what had happened and a staggering sense of loss. At the same time, there was an unprecedented outpouring of faith, generosity, and national unity. Places of worship were filled, memorial funds were established, and American flags flew everywhere.

Looking back, this response was Social Generosity in its purest form. I define generosity generally as “considerate attitude plus caring action,” and the whole country seemed to practice it together in those weeks.

One event captured this spirit in a unique way. A telecast organized by leading entertainers took place on September 21, 2001, just 10 days after the attacks. America: A Tribute to Heroes aired live on all major networks and featured personal and musical tributes performed in New York, Los Angeles, and London by some of the most famous people in the world. Like all of us, they lent their voices in support of a universal cause, and more than $200 million was raised for victims and those in need. 

With 60 million other Americans, Courtenay and I tuned in that night needing to be part of a collective moment of remembrance and recognition. I’ll never forget the show’s opening.

Befitting the somber occasion, the broadcast started silently with the grayed-out silhouettes of lower Manhattan and the Statue of Liberty faintly illuminated in the background. The camera cut to an otherwise dark soundstage lit by dozens of candles.

A lone figure in the shadows started to play a black acoustic guitar and a haunting melody on harmonica. The stage lights came up softly to reveal Bruce Springsteen standing in front of a semi-circle of singers. Springsteen, an artist steeped and grounded in New York, leaned into the microphone and said, “A prayer for our fallen brothers and sisters.”

The song was “My City of Ruins.” I had never heard it before, and the opening verse was searing and somber: 

There’s a blood red circle on the cold dark ground
And the rain is falling down
The church’s door’s thrown open, I can hear the organ’s song
But the congregation’s gone
My city of ruins
My city of ruins

At the second verse, the group behind joined in softly, lending their voices to the Gospel moments that built through the third verse. Then, something amazing happened. The tone shifted from lamentation to a prayer of healing and hope. The intensity and volume grew as Springsteen sang passionately, repeating these lines with the choir echoing: 

Now, with these hands, I pray Lord
I pray for your love, Lord
I pray for the faith, Lord
I pray for the strength, Lord

The song then reached a climax in powerful harmony as everyone sang together:

Come on, rise up
Come on, rise up
Come on, rise up
Come on, rise up

After Springsteen repeated the words by himself with heartfelt resolve, the song ended. My description does not do the performance justice. You can see it yourself here. 

Springsteen and his group captured the essence of Emotional Generosity in that moment, while demonstrating how strongly music can engage our hearts and minds.

In a time of distress, the first verses were considerate attitude — acknowledging the pain being felt by the nation and most of all by the people who had lost loved ones. The song then shifted to caring action in the form of a prayer and a pledge to use “these hands” — all of our hands by association — to comfort, restore, and redeem.

The song also acknowledged a vital truth: we are not alone in struggle and suffering. The performance engaged multiple voices to deliver its forceful message in ways that a solo singer could not alone. The lyrics appealed to divine power to come alongside of us in our time of need. The words and music invited the audience into a sacred moment created by the performers. In the same way, communal experience and faithful perspective always are essential to hope, especially in difficult times.

Tunes from the soundtrack album released after America: A Tribute to Heroes remain on a number of my musical playlists. “My City of Ruins” makes me cry every time I hear it. I didn’t fully understand at the time why the song moved me so much, but reflection has helped me to appreciate how this powerful piece of art helped start a season of healing for me and for others.

In that spirit, I hope that the 25th anniversary of 9/11 this week found you in a place of remembering and resolve. Looking back and looking ahead, WISEgenerosity hopes to help nurture a similar sense of collective connection and commitment to others that so many felt in response to our national tragedy in 2001. May we continue to rise up together….

All the best,

Chris Gabriel,
Founder, WISEgenerosity