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It was an indescribable and pathetic sight. Someone would call out, "Move this!" Someplace else on the Pile, another person would cry, "Over here! Bring a ladder!" Sometimes, when we pushed a big piece of metal over, fire would come whooshing out. It was hard to listen for cries of survivors because of the roar, yelling, popping, and the sloshing of the fire hoses.

And we didn't find anyone. There wasn't anyone to be found.

So, I went back to the morgue, which was being set up in the Brooks Brothers clothing store. Unbelievably, some of the dummies were still standing in the windows. They were elegantly dressed, with their shoes laid out, and all of it was covered by the white ash from the death of the towers.

Inside, there was one body in a dark green bag laid off to the side. People were trying to clear out space, so I grabbed a shovel to make a path out front.

I remembered back to when I was a young punk kid, messing with girls and drugs, and how Arlene, who became my wife of 28 years, told me about the Lord. Now, I wondered, What can I say? There was no joking around and little conversation. The rescuers really just needed someone to be there. So, I thought, That is what I'll be, a presence and a symbol that God is present and available. I kept praying to myself for everyone. For a week, I only slept an hour or two or three a day.

Of course, the rescuers would come up to me for comfort and prayer. I didn't realize at the time that I was the only pastor there. I found out latter that the firemen's priest [Mychal Judge] had been killed. I made the prayers simple so that the men and women could remember and repeat them later.

He told me, "Rough. I was in Vietnam, and this is worse."

I noticed that he had numbers tattooed in different places on his body, so I asked what they stood for.

"That's my Social Security Number," he said, "because there is no guarantee that they can identify me if I am in parts."

I was stunned. Not knowing what else to say, I asked him if he would like to pray. He said, "Yes," and started weeping. As we prayed, he called out, "Jesus, save me!"

I was absolutely unprepared for this catastrophe. Most everyone in the church was. And I am absolutely changed by it. Perhaps we all are. The people are gone. That's the reality—that will hit us. But Jesus gives abounding grace even where sin has reigned unto death.

Copyright © 2001 Christianity Today. Click for reprint information.

Books & Culture Corner: Myths of the Taliban | Misinformation and disinformation abounds. What do we know? (Sept. 24, 2001)

Now What? | A Christian response to religious terrorism. (Sept. 21, 2001)

To Embrace the Enemy | Is reconciliation possible in the wake of such evil? (Sept. 21, 2001)

After the Grave in the Air | True reconciliation comes not by ignoring justice nor by putting justice first, but by unconditional embrace. (Sept. 21, 2001)

Film Forum: Shock Waves Tear Through a Shock-Value Industry | How can we think of movies at a time like this? (Sept. 20, 2001)

Was September 11 the Beginning of the End? | Observers say geography and gravity of attacks have led to little prophecy speculation. (Sept. 19, 2001)

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September (Web-only) 2001, Vol. 45