Mayor Zohran Kwame Mamdani: Good morning, everyone. It is an immense privilege to join you as we honor the 265 souls lost in the tragic crash of American Airlines Flight 587.
I come here today alongside leaders both in this community and beyond, and I want to just take a moment to acknowledge them: the event organizer, Belkis Lora, the sister of Jose Francisco Lora; Mary Rodríguez, the widow of the artist who designed this memorial; Pastor Gilford Monrose, who we've heard from; as well as our Assembly member-elect, Pesach Osina, who's joining us today.
Though today marks 25 years since Nov. 12, 2001, I know that many here remember the early hours of that day like it was yesterday. Some of you, like Belkis, were heading to work after hugging a loved one goodbye at the JFK departures terminal. Others were pouring their coffee in Washington Heights after having stayed up late to pack suitcases full of presents for relatives back home in the Dominican Republic. And others who called Belle Harbor home were showing up to their jobs as firefighters and police officers in a city where the air was still choked with the toxic cloud from the Sept. 11 terrorist attacks.
On Nov. 12, 2001, the people of our city were still in mourning. Here in Belle Harbor, residents were still struggling to accept that more than 70 of their neighbors were gone in the aftermath of the attacks. Many who boarded Flight 587 had expressed their apprehension to family and friends about flying so shortly after the horrors of that day. Some, like Felix Sanchez, had worked in the World Trade Center and knew how lucky they were to have survived the destruction of that date.
Not only did the crash of Flight 587 deepen an already open wound, it was a devastating tragedy on its own terms. All 260 people aboard that flight died that day, along with five people on the ground. It remains the second-deadliest aviation accident in American history.
And yet that loss is so much vaster than numbers could ever capture. It is measured in birthdays missed, in grandparents who never got to meet their grandchildren, in meals once prepared by a loved one that will never taste the same.
I'm struck, too, by the added cruelty that, for so many traveling that day, their trip to Santo Domingo was one of homecoming. More than 225 of those aboard Flight 587 were of Dominican descent. They worked as cabdrivers and hairdressers, in factories and on Wall Street. They were traveling to the Dominican Republic to see brothers and sisters, mothers and children, their devotion to their families exemplified by the very act of stepping on that plane.
In Washington Heights, in the days after the crash, cathedral candles were lit on street corners and neighbors hugged in the street, whether they knew the victims or not. Across the five boroughs, as New Yorkers tried to make sense of something that is senseless, I know that many asked the same question: How much can one city handle?
And yet there was another question that was answered that day, and on every day that followed: How much could the people of New York City give to one another?
On Nov. 12, 2001, New Yorkers did not hesitate to do what they had done just two months and one day prior. They rushed to help.
When the engine of the Airbus A300 landed just a few feet away from the gas tank, the gas station owner got out a garden hose and tried to put out the fire. When Red Cross trucks pulled up to 129th and Newport Avenue, residents came out of their homes to hand out snacks and bottles of water. And when relatives in the Dominican Republic and here in New York City sought out information about their loved ones, the travel agents who helped to book flights did everything they could to get answers.
In the wake of immeasurable tragedy, New Yorkers did what they always do: They found solace in each other. They knew the only thing worse than unimaginable grief was having to face that kind of grief alone.
This memorial, 25 years strong, is a testament to how New Yorkers come together and lift one another up in our hardest moments.
Year after year, you all come here to remember those who died. You have watched as toddlers grew tall, as parents became grandparents, as those marked by this grief moved away and yet still managed to find their way back.
Despite the pain that never fades, you have built a community out of this tragedy, one marked by resilience, solidarity and a refusal to forget.
I can think of no better tribute to the victims of Flight 587. It is an honor to be with you, to pay remembrance to those we lost, those who remain with us in our hearts and in the fabric of our city.
Now, to honor those lives, Police Officer Vinny Bosco and Firefighter James Frontera will help us pay tribute. Following the tolling of the bell, we will observe a moment of silence. Thank you.
