2502 NYCC TRANS FINAL2 - New York Chiropractic College

our toy poodle, under her shirt
to cover her. We then joined the
crowd running down Greenwich
Street toward Battery Tunnel. A
police officer waved everyone
toward South Street. People in
the crowd conversed in disbelief;
others screamed. Names were
muttered. “Where’s Mike?”
“Where’s Jim?” “Did he get
out?”
As we continued toward the
Fulton Street Fish Market we felt
the ground quake, erupting into
a booming rumble. I looked over
my shoulder but could see only
dirt and smoke, not quite sure
what was happening. Then it
dawned on me — I had heard
that sound before. The second
tower was coming down! A huge
cloud billowed toward us —
thick and black, folding in on itself
as it raced outward and consumed
everyone in its path. I felt as though it were the end of the
world. We coughed and choked. My dog’s head and tongue were
caked with heavy black soot.
It wasn’t until we approached the fish market that I began to
glimpse blue sky off in the distance. Concerned about Noreen’s
daughter, we went to her school, and it was a mass of confusion.
The schools near the World Trade Center had emptied their students
there. Ultimately, we found Noreen’s daughter unharmed.
On Thursday, my friend John Vilkelis, D.C., associate Lisa Francey,
D.C., ’00, and I traveled to the Red Cross Station in an elementary
school in Chinatown. We climbed into a van along with some Red
Cross workers who were delivering packages and wound up at a
relief station near Ground Zero. In Stuyvestant High School there
was a huge medical triage on the main floor. We announced to the
staff that we were chiropractors and wanted to help. We were directed
upstairs, where several chiropractors had already set up tables.
We helped them adjust as many people as we could.
I returned home that night to a call from Dennis Cronk, D.C.,
’93, a fellow chiropractor and former NYCC classmate. He said he
had spoken with NYCC’s President Frank Nicchi, D.C., ’78, who
informed him that I was helping out in the area. On Friday, Dennis
and I headed back to the Red Cross station in Chinatown where we
teamed up with the chiropractors we had seen just the day prior.
I ultimately obtained access credentials for Ground Zero and
helped the rescue workers and firefighters on the site. We adjusted
their midbacks while they stood, and then worked on their necks as
they squatted and sat on the ground. As each of them received an
adjustment others became more eager for theirs. We continued late
into Friday evening. Dennis stayed the entire night helping. I returned
Saturday with my other associate, David Sacks, D.C., ’83, and
worked with Dennis adjusting hundreds of people. I visited my
apartment building, which happened to be located next to a gym
where a FEMA (Federal Emergency Management Agency) task force
Dr. David Sacks, ’83, Dr. John Vilkelis, Dr. Richard Platt, ’93, and Dr. Dennis Cronk amid the devastation at Ground Zero
was headquartered. Dennis, Dave and I introduced ourselves and began
adjusting the rescuers. In fact, one rescuer grabbed a couple pieces
of blue foam and with his knife cut us out a chiropractic table.
The rescuers expressed great appreciation. After Dennis adjusted
one of the commanders’ low back, another claimed it was the first
time he’d seen him smile in three days. We continued for the next
couple of days. It seemed like we adjusted thousands! I recall twelve
firefighters who were taking a short break and sitting on miniature
chairs near the collapsed towers. Dennis and I asked if anyone wanted
an adjustment. They shook their heads, entirely consumed in their
effort to find fellow firefighters. Ultimately, I convinced one of them
to stand for a moment. I took hold of his arms and gave him a
standing adjustment. I then asked him to sit as I performed a seated
cervical adjustment. The others watched in amazement; many of
them had never been adjusted before. As we worked and joked, smiles
replaced solemn faces. As Dennis and I walked away we felt good
that we could make them smile and laugh, if even for a few seconds.
We came across DMAT, which is a federal disaster medical assistance
team. They were stationed in a building below a chiropractor’s
office that was destroyed from the blast. We asked if they needed our
help. The place was set up as a huge medical triage, yet was empty
since there were no survivors. The captain said, “We could use your
help; your services have been requested.” They offered to grab the
dusty chiropractic tables located upstairs. After the tables were brought
down we adjusted about a dozen people. Thereafter, we moved on to
other areas. As we were leaving, the captain (a medical doctor from
Rhode Island) gave Dennis and me two DMAT patches and thanked
us. Peering through the corner of my eye, I felt drawn to something
inexpressibly onerous. It was the tower – its torn metal skin struggling
to remain upright. The ache in my heart contrasted sharply with
the warm feel of the rescuers’ necks. I took a deep breath; returned
my attention to the man I was touching, and gave him the very best
that I could offer.
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