Sept. 11: A day of stories

COEUR d'ALENE - They streamed to Pier 94 by the thousands in the weeks following Sept. 11, 2001.

The homeless, the jobless, and the families of the dead or missing were all directed to the cavernous structure located on New York City's Hudson River.

The former shipping terminal became the central assistance center for those affected by the fall of the World Trade Center towers.

Sally Stuber, of Hauser, was there.

A volunteer with the American Red Cross disaster team, Stuber's job was to offer mental health support to the throngs of traumatized victims who arrived at Pier 94 seeking refuge and guidance as they dealt with financial, legal, spiritual and emotional turmoil caused by the event.

"I'd say, 'Hi. I'm Sally. Did you lose your house or your job?' Then, I would ask them to tell me their story," Stuber said.

There were so many stories.

Millions of people had witnessed the airliners crashing into the 110-story twin towers, watched people jump to their deaths, saw the buildings collapse. Many had been directly affected by it.

There were thousands and thousands of people experiencing trauma, Stuber said, citizens whose sense of safety was irrevocably changed that day.

"That's what we call a 'critical event.' The world as you know it will never be the same," Stuber said.

Stuber recalled a woman who wheeled herself into Pier 94 in a wheelchair. She had worked in one of the towers, and arrived with her mother, a legal immigrant who had come to the U.S. as a political refugee from a country in Central America.

"While I was talking to the young woman who'd been burned, I noticed the mother was very agitated," Stuber said. "She was crying quietly, and rocking back and forth."

Stuber turned her attention to the mother, who told Stuber that while growing up in her country she and the other children learned to run through the fields to get to and from school. They were always afraid someone would shoot them while they were walking.

"And now it's come here," Stuber said to the woman.

The woman responded, "Yes, I no longer feel safe here."

Teddy Bears and heroes

Following the 1995 bombing of the Murrah federal building in Oklahoma City, people throughout the world sent teddy bears, symbols of solace, to the city's bereaved citizens.

"When the Oklahoma City people heard what had happened in New York City, they gathered together and shipped, literally, semis filled with teddy bears," Stuber said.

There were Beanie Babies with notes on them that said, "People in Cherokee, Oklahoma are praying for you."

One day, Stuber was working with a young man who was well-dressed and appeared to be in his 30s. The man told Stuber he was formerly in the military and had worked as a guard at one of the tower buildings.

"This was Oct. 3. He'd had less than two hours of sleep since Sept. 11," Stuber said. "He was extremely affected."

He told Stuber he heard the first plane hit, and stood outside the area and watched the second plane go into the building.

"Then, everything started to fall down," he told Stuber. "I could not leave my post. I wanted to help people. I cannot sleep because I could not do anything."

Stuber asked him what he did do.

He told her that when he could, he opened the doors for the ash-covered people streaming by. He told them to come in and use the restroom to wash out their eyes and rinse the ash out of their mouths. Then, he told them they could use the landline to make a telephone call to their families.

Stuber told the young man that she had spoken to person after person who walked hours to find loved ones or were traumatized because there was no cell phone coverage, and they couldn't reach their families.

Stuber gave him a teddy bear and told him, "As far as I'm concerned, you are a hero."

"I watched as that young man realized he had done something. He helped a lot of people," Stuber said. "His whole demeanor changed."

As she walked him out of Pier 94, Stuber introduced him to people and told them, "Hey, I want you to meet this guy, he's a hero."

That's the kind of thing they are trained to do by the Red Cross, Stuber said, and through her profession as a licensed clinical professional counselor working as a crisis responder.

"Those are the unsung heroes that no one ever hears about, and there are so many of them" Stuber said.

Ground Zero

Stuber returned to New York City with the Red Cross in January 2002. By this time, they had begun to allow family members of the dead and missing to visit Ground Zero.

One of her jobs was to escort the visitors to the site.

"They kept hoping they would find their family member," Stuber said.

One day she was assigned to go with a Japanese family. They spoke no English, and Stuber did not speak their language.

"I walked with the family to the viewing site, and I watched the father turn gray and the mother start to faint," Stuber said. "It's one thing to see it on TV, and another to see it up close and personal."

All she could do was be with them non-verbally, among the hundreds of wreaths, teddy bears and signs.

By that time Ground Zero had been transformed from a pile of rubble, to a hole in the ground with a huge, circus-like white tent in it, Stuber said.

"By that point, the people that needed much of the help, were the construction workers, and governmental people who came in and weren't prepared, even though they had been in war," Stuber said.

All activity shut down, and everything became quiet when remains were found, Stuber said.

The Red Cross volunteers gave the construction workers hand warmers to fend off the winter chill, and worked with other agencies to provide meals and respite care in the tent.

"What we provide is not only physical, but emotional aid," Stuber said.

North Idaho

Stuber moved to Hauser from Baltimore last May to live near her son.

When the steel beams from the World Trade Center were transported through Kootenai County last month, on their way from New York to Washington for a memorial, it affected Stuber greatly.

It has been nine years since her experience, and she still tears up when talking about it.

Stuber learned a few life lessons herself from her time in New York City.

"Make sure the people you love always know where you are and how to get a hold of you," Stuber said.

When in a disaster area, it's easier to get a call out than in, so Stuber tells people to call a relative far away from the disaster zone, and let that person relay the news to the rest of their loved ones.

Something else Stuber took home with her from her 9/11 experience: "Know that in the next 10 minutes, all of us could die with no notice, and we need to be on good terms with the people we are in relationships with."

Stuber has received the highest possible Red Cross volunteer award, the Clara Barton Award, for outstanding service. She has served with the Red Cross on other national and local disasters such as Hurricane Katrina and local fires.

Stuber and other Red Cross volunteers will be at the Fred Meyer store on Kathleen Avenue in Coeur d'Alene today, and each Saturday through Oct. 2.

They will be helping raise funds to support the Red Cross' disaster relief efforts.