Look for the Helpers

I was 24, standing in the showroom of a car dealership, when someone yelled for us to come look at the TV.

We crowded around it just in time to watch the second plane hit, live. Nobody said a word. A room full of salesmen who talk for a living, and we just stood there in silence, watching the second tower burn.

That's the moment 9/11 became real to me. Not the first plane. The second one, watched live, surrounded by coworkers who suddenly looked as lost as I felt.

It would be years before I'd hear what Fred Rogers' mother used to tell him: "Look for the helpers. You will always find people who are helping." 💖

I didn't have that lens that day in the showroom. I just had shock. But it's become how I reflect on 9/11 now, 25 years later.

The systemic issue

Firefighters walking into buildings everyone else was running from. Strangers carrying strangers down 80 flights of stairs. First responders who never made it home. Neighbors lined up for hours to give blood.

We remember the helpers every September. What we don't talk about enough is what happened to them after the cameras left. First responders and veterans carry trauma at rates civilians rarely have to reckon with, and the mental health system built to catch them is still, 25 years later, badly understaffed and hard to access. Looking for the helpers can't stop at gratitude. It has to include asking what they need now.

The clinical perspective

Twenty-five years later, I spend my career sitting with the helpers. Veterans. First responders. The people who ran toward it, then spent years carrying what they saw.

Here's what I've learned from that work: looking for the helpers isn't just a coping skill for watching the news. It's a discipline. In grief, in trauma, in the hardest seasons, you can train your eyes to find where the good is still showing up. Not to erase the horror. To keep from being consumed by it.

But that discipline has to run both directions. The people we look to as helpers need to know someone's still looking out for them too.

The action step

Yesterday wasn’t about politics or blame. It's about remembering what we lost and honoring the people who ran in anyway.

So, here's the ask: think of one first responder in your life. A firefighter, a cop, a paramedic, a dispatcher, someone in the military. Text them today. Not a generic "thank you for your service." Tell them specifically what you remember, or what they mean to you.

They carried something for us that day. The least we can do is let them know we haven't forgotten.

Look for the helpers. Then go thank one. 🇺🇸 🚒🚔🚑

Until next time, come back...be here.