09/11/2026
25 YEARS | WE HAVE NOT FORGOTTEN
Most of us can still remember where we were when we first heard the news.
A classroom. A fire station. On the way to work. Standing in front of a television, trying to understand what we were watching.
Some of today’s firefighters were only children. Some were not yet born. But the stories of September 11 have been passed down through our firehouses, and with them, the names and actions of those who answered that morning.
We remember Firefighter Stephen Siller, who had finished his shift and was headed to play golf with his brothers when he heard what had happened. Finding the Brooklyn-Battery Tunnel closed, he strapped approximately 60 pounds of gear to his back and ran through it toward the towers.
We remember Battalion Chief Orio Palmer, who climbed from the 41st floor to the 78th-floor impact zone of the South Tower. His voice on the recovered radio recordings remained focused and professional as he reported conditions and continued working to reach those still trapped. His family did not learn how far he had made it until years later.
We remember Captain Patrick “Paddy” Brown and the members of Ladder 3. From the 35th floor of the North Tower, he called in a report and ended simply:
“Three Truck, and we are still heading up.”
We remember Father Mychal Judge, the FDNY chaplain who entered the North Tower to pray over the fallen and offer comfort to firefighters and civilians. He became the first officially recorded casualty of September 11.
These are only a few of the 343 stories.
We remember the police officers, EMS professionals, Port Authority officers, military personnel, dispatchers, and every responder who ran toward the unimaginable.
We remember the heroes who wore no uniform, the coworkers who carried the injured, the strangers who guided one another through the smoke, and the people who had every opportunity to save themselves but turned back to help someone else.
And we know there were countless acts of courage that were never witnessed, stories of heroism that no one survived to tell.
We remember those who died that morning and those we have continued to lose from illnesses caused by their work at Ground Zero.
We also remember the days that followed, when Americans stood in line to give blood, opened their homes, raised flags, embraced strangers, and showed up for one another. For a moment, our differences became smaller than our shared grief, and we remembered what it meant to take care of our neighbors.
Twenty-five years later, fewer of us can say we were there. Eventually, fewer will remember that morning firsthand.
That is why we keep telling their stories.
We speak their names. We climb in their honor. We teach the next generation not only how they died, but how they lived, and what they chose to do when people needed them most.
Twenty-five years have passed.
We have not forgotten.
We never will.
📸 Grand Junction Fire Department & Grand Junction Police Department
#343
