Rescue at the Water’s Edge

Eleven-year-old Thomas Panevino couldn’t believe his eyes. He stared in shock at the New York City skyline, where only a few hours earlier, the city’s two tallest buildings—the Twin Towers—had stretched toward the sky. In their place now was a massive dark cloud, like a monster looming over the city.

It was September 11, 2001. Two planes had been deliberately crashed into the towers, causing them to collapse. Thomas and his dad were on a small police boat heading across the Hudson River toward New Jersey. All around them, dozens of other boats were also carrying frightened people away from the scene of the attacks in lower Manhattan.

Thomas clutched a cage holding Eddie, the family’s miniature poodle. Suddenly, he heard someone cry out, “The boat is sinking!” Thomas saw the back of the boat dipping under the surface of the water. Passengers squeezed toward the front of the boat as the engine began to cough and spit.

They were only about halfway across the river. Thomas gripped Eddie’s cage and fixed his eyes on the dock ahead.

Would they make it?

Eleven-year-old Thomas Panevino couldn’t believe his eyes. He stared in shock at the New York City skyline. Only a few hours earlier, the city’s two tallest buildings—the Twin Towers—had stretched toward the sky. In their place now was a huge dark cloud, like a monster looming over the city.

It was September 11, 2001. Two planes had crashed into the towers on purpose, causing them to collapse. Thomas and his dad were on a small police boat heading across the Hudson River toward New Jersey. All around them, dozens of other boats were also carrying frightened people away from the scene of the attacks in lower Manhattan.

Thomas clutched a cage holding Eddie, the family’s miniature poodle. Suddenly, he heard someone cry out, “The boat is sinking!” Thomas saw the back of the boat dipping under the surface of the water. Passengers squeezed toward the front of the boat as the engine began to cough and spit.

They were only about halfway across the river. Thomas gripped Eddie’s cage and fixed his eyes on the dock ahead.

Would they make it?

Five miles southwest of Manhattan, at the Coast Guard station on Staten Island, officer Carlos Perez was midway through his morning routine when the station’s search-and-rescue alarm went off. The Coast Guard is the branch of the U.S. military that helps protect seas, lakes, and rivers. As an officer stationed in New York City, Perez was part of a team that protected the city’s busy harbor.

That morning, as on every morning, ferry boats carried more than 90,000 commuters to work in Manhattan—the long, thin island at the heart of New York City. Stout tugboats pushed huge, boxy ships piled high with cargo. Tour boats filled up with tourists getting ready to snap pictures of the Statue of Liberty. Sailboats skimmed gracefully through the water. It was Perez’s job to make sure every boat followed maritime laws and made it through the harbor safely.

At first, Perez didn’t take the alarm seriously. Lately, it had been malfunctioning. Still, he stepped outside the station to be sure. That’s when he saw flames and smoke curling up from the top of the North Tower. A plane has crashed into the tower by accident, he thought.

Within minutes, he and his team had gathered their gear and were speeding toward lower Manhattan in their boat. At 23 years old, Perez was relatively new to the Coast Guard. This was the first time he was in charge of his own boat on a search-and-rescue mission.

Around 9 a.m., as Perez and his crew passed the Statue of Liberty on their way to the southern tip of Manhattan, they noticed a plane flying too low. The plane swooped out of sight for a moment—only to reappear in front of their boat. The plane was heading straight toward the World Trade Center.

The team watched in stunned silence as the plane slammed into the South Tower. A giant fireball exploded from the point of impact. Now both towers were spewing out thick, dark plumes of smoke, like two giant chimneys rising up from the city.

This is no accident, Perez realized. We’re under attack.

Five miles southwest of Manhattan, at the Coast Guard station on Staten Island, officer Carlos Perez was midway through his morning routine when an alarm went off. The Coast Guard is the branch of the U.S. military that helps protect seas, lakes, and rivers. As an officer in New York City, Perez was part of a team that protected the city’s busy harbor.

That morning, as on every morning, ferry boats carried more than 90,000 people to work in Manhattan—the long, thin island at the heart of New York City. Tugboats pushed huge ships piled high with cargo. Tour boats filled up with tourists getting ready to snap pictures of the Statue of Liberty. Sailboats moved gracefully through the water. It was Perez’s job to make sure every boat followed maritime laws and made it through the harbor safely.

At first, Perez didn’t take the alarm seriously. Lately, it had not been working properly. Still, he stepped outside the station to be sure. That’s when he saw flames and smoke curling up from the top of the North Tower. A plane has crashed into the tower by accident, he thought.

Within minutes, he and his team were speeding toward lower Manhattan in their boat. At 23 years old, Perez was somewhat new to the Coast Guard. This was the first time he was in charge of his own boat on a search-and-rescue mission.

Around 9 a.m., Perez and his crew made their way to the southern tip of Manhattan. They noticed a plane flying too low. The plane flew out of sight for a moment—only to reappear in front of their boat. The plane was heading straight toward the World Trade Center.

The team watched in stunned silence as the plane slammed into the South Tower. A giant fireball exploded from where the plane hit the building. Now both towers were spewing out thick, dark plumes of smoke, like two giant chimneys rising up from the city.

This is no accident, Perez realized. We’re under attack.

Thomas and his dad were among the crush of frightened people at the waterfront. As the first tower fell, then the second, they had become part of a growing crowd fleeing toward the southern tip of Manhattan. The city’s bridges, tunnels, and trains had been shut down for security, and roads were snarled with traffic.

For the first time, many New Yorkers became keenly aware of something they didn’t often think about: Manhattan is an island. And now, the water was their only way off. Thomas felt like he was on board the sinking Titanic, waiting desperately for a lifeboat. 

Meanwhile, Perez and his team were picking up people as fast as they could, carrying them to makeshift hospitals being set up in nearby New Jersey, Brooklyn, and Staten Island. They sailed back and forth countless times. But no matter how many people they evacuated, the crowd at the seawall seemed to swell larger and larger. Perez began to feel overwhelmed.

Then he looked out over the water. And that’s when he saw it: dozens of boats, of all shapes and sizes—bright-orange ferries, hardy little tugboats, double-decker party boats, fancy yachts, inflatable rafts—all speeding to the seawall, frothy white wakes trailing behind them like ribbons.

“All these boats just converged on lower Manhattan,” he recalls. 

Thomas remembers seeing them from the waterfront. “Anyone who had a boat brought their boat to the shore to take people,” he says. “Literally anything that could float.”

Thomas and his dad were among the group of frightened people at the waterfront. As the towers fell, they had become part of a growing crowd fleeing toward the southern tip of Manhattan. The city’s bridges, tunnels, and trains had been shut down for security. The roads were packed with traffic.

For the first time, many New Yorkers became very aware of something they didn’t often think about: Manhattan is an island. And now, the water was their only way off. Thomas felt like he was waiting desperately for a lifeboat on board the sinking Titanic.

Meanwhile, Perez and his team were picking up people as fast as they could. They were carrying them to temporary hospitals being set up in nearby New Jersey, Brooklyn, and Staten Island. They sailed back and forth many times. But no matter how many people they evacuated, the crowd at the seawall seemed to grow larger and larger. Perez began to feel overwhelmed.

Then he looked out over the water. And that’s when he saw the boats. There were dozens of boats of all shapes and sizes: bright-orange ferries, hardy little tugboats, double-decker party boats, fancy yachts, inflatable rafts. They were all speeding to the seawall.

“All these boats just converged on lower Manhattan,” he recalls.

Thomas remembers seeing them from the waterfront. “Anyone who had a boat brought their boat to the shore to take people,” he says. “Literally anything that could float.”

Soon, hundreds of captains and crews joined Perez and his team. But as the throngs of people at the seawall continued to grow, it was clear they needed even more help. The Coast Guard put out a call over marine radios: “All available boats! Anyone wanting to help with the evacuation of lower Manhattan.”

More mariners answered the call. The waterfront was packed with so many boats that you could step easily from one to the other. Now, in addition to rescuing people himself, Perez was helping coordinate the larger evacuation. He directed boats to spots where they could dock safely and made sure they were not dangerously overloaded with people. Still, boats were being packed with far more passengers than they usually carried, as rescuers tried to help as many people as possible.

That’s what happened with the police boat Thomas and his dad were on. The boat was built for 10 passengers, but it was crammed with three times that many. Shortly after setting off, the boat began to sink, its back end disappearing underwater.

Luckily, they made it to the dock in New Jersey just in time. After climbing safely onto land, Thomas and his dad sat at the dock for hours, hoping Judi would get off one of the boats. But she never did. Eventually, they went to stay with a friend who lived nearby.

Soon, hundreds of captains and crews joined Perez and his team. But as the crowd of people at the seawall continued to grow, it was clear they needed even more help. The Coast Guard put out a call over marine radios: “All available boats! Anyone wanting to help with the evacuation of lower Manhattan.”

More mariners answered the call. The waterfront was packed with so many boats that you could step easily from one to the other. Now, in addition to rescuing people himself, Perez was helping coordinate the larger evacuation. He directed boats to spots where they could dock safely. He also made sure they were not dangerously overloaded with people. Still, boats were being packed with far more passengers than they usually carried. Rescuers wanted to help as many people as possible.

That’s what happened with the police boat Thomas and his dad were on. The boat was built for 10 passengers, but it was filled with three times that many. Shortly after setting off, the boat began to sink.

Luckily, they made it to the dock in New Jersey just in time. After climbing safely onto land, Thomas and his dad sat at the dock for hours. They hoped Judi would get off one of the boats. But she never did. Eventually, they went to stay with a friend who lived nearby.

The attacks shocked and horrified the world. Nearly 3,000 people were killed, including more than 400 firefighters and police officers who rushed into the burning towers to save people.

In the days that followed, the U.S. became determined to hunt down the ringleader of the attacks: Osama bin Laden. But he and other members of Al Qaeda were protected by the Taliban, an extremist group that controlled Afghanistan’s government.

And so less than a month after the attacks, the U.S. went to war with Afghanistan. In the following years, a coalition of 42 countries fought to weaken Al Qaeda and replace the Taliban with a more democratic government.

It would be nearly 10 years before the U.S. military found and killed bin Laden. And it would be another decade before the war in Afghanistan officially ended. President Joe Biden has pledged that the last troops will leave by the 20th anniversary of the attacks, on September 11, 2021.

The attacks shocked and horrified the world. Nearly 3,000 people were killed. More than 400 of them were firefighters and police officers who rushed into the burning towers to save people.

In the days that followed, the U.S. became determined to find the leader of the attacks: Osama bin Laden. But he and other members of Al Qaeda were protected by the Taliban. The Taliban is an extremist group that controlled Afghanistan’s government.

And so less than a month after the attacks, the U.S. went to war with Afghanistan. In the following years, a coalition of 42 countries fought to weaken Al Qaeda and replace the Taliban with a more democratic government.

It would be nearly 10 years before the U.S. military found and killed bin Laden. And it would be another decade before the war in Afghanistan officially ended. President Joe Biden has pledged that the last troops will leave by the 20th anniversary of the attacks, on September 11, 2021.

Early on September 12, Vincent’s phone rang. When he saw it was Judi, Vincent wept with relief. She explained that after the first tower was hit, police had directed her uptown, where she spent the night at her sister’s apartment. Thomas and his dad reunited with her later that day, and she wrapped Thomas in a never-ending hug.

Now 31, Thomas says he will never forget the terror and darkness of September 11. But also unforgettable are the bravery, selflessness, and humanity of the mariners who helped rescue his family and so many others. “The fact that they rushed toward the scene of something so scary shows who they are,” he says. “They saved our lives.”

In just nine hours, mariners like Perez evacuated nearly half a million people. It was the largest maritime evacuation in history. And even after everyone at the waterfront was taken to safety, the mariners kept going—bringing food and supplies to rescue workers, carrying first responders from surrounding areas, and hauling away rubble.

Perez still gets emotional when he thinks of the moment he looked up and saw a sea of boats rushing toward the waterfront. “Everyone sprang into action to help,” he says. “They put their lives on the line to save fellow New Yorkers. And that was pretty remarkable.”

Early on September 12, Vincent’s phone rang. He wept with relief when he saw it was Judi. She explained that after the first tower was hit, police had directed her uptown. She spent the night there at her sister’s apartment. Thomas and his dad reunited with her later that day. She wrapped Thomas in a never-ending hug.

Now 31, Thomas says he will never forget the terror and darkness of September 11. But also unforgettable are the bravery, selflessness, and humanity of the mariners who helped rescue his family and so many others. “The fact that they rushed toward the scene of something so scary shows who they are,” he says. “They saved our lives.”

In just nine hours, mariners like Perez evacuated nearly half a million people. It was the largest maritime evacuation in history. And even after everyone at the waterfront was taken to safety, the mariners kept going. They brought food and supplies to rescue workers, carried first responders from surrounding areas, and hauled away rubble.

Perez still gets emotional when he thinks of the moment he looked up and saw a sea of boats rushing toward the waterfront. “Everyone sprang into action to help,” he says. “They put their lives on the line to save fellow New Yorkers. And that was pretty remarkable.”

^{This article was originally published in the September 2021 issue.}

^{This article was originally published in the September 2021 issue.}