George W. Bush
I had choppered into the scene, into New York City, with Rudy Giuliani and George Pataki. We took a quick motorcade to the Ground Zero area. I got out, and all my senses were on alert. It was kind of a dismal environment. It was gray, sloshing through water, the stench was
profound. I was quickly briefed on what to expect and started heading down into what I called the pit. The place was lined with rescue workers who were there to see the President. I tried to shake every hand. I wanted to encourage people as best I could — to support them to the best of my ability. At first there was kind of a politeness, and then it seemed like people wondered who I was, whether or not I had the leadership capabilities necessary to seek justice. There was bloodlust, a lot of emotion. People were calling me by my first name, which was fine. I didn’t mind that at all.
I felt like I needed to say something. I got up on a pile of rubble. I wanted a firefighter to be with me, as a statement of solidarity. So I get up on what turns out to be a fire truck that had been destroyed and was handed a bullhorn and started to speak. A guy yelled: “I can’t hear you!” And then I ad-libbed: “I can hear you, and they’ll hear from us.”
Read the rest at Time Magazine here.
