9/11 Set the The Spectator Staff on a Mission

On September 10, 2001, the Spectator staff stayed late in the office, finalizing the first issue of the year, and my first as faculty adviser. We worked hard to put out a high-quality edition to kick off the school year, even as we were just getting to know each other and gel as a team.

As we wrapped up, co-news editor Laura Krug (‘02) quipped about whether anything interesting would happen this year.

The next morning, as we awaited delivery of our newspaper copies, a plane flew into one of the Twin Towers a few blocks away. Followed by another one.

The Spectator staff were scattered throughout the building. Yet we each grasped that something monumental was unfolding, and that, as journalists, we had to document it.

Amid that surreal crisis, the Spectator staff somehow balanced horror and shock with mission and purpose. Editor-in-chief Jeff Orlowski (‘02) recorded the principal’s announcements, photo editor Ethan Moses (‘02) dashed outside to take photos, others took notes—and then the towers fell, and we all evacuated into the smoke-filled streets.

About a week later, the faculty was permitted to retrieve teaching materials for our classes, being held temporarily at Brooklyn Tech. Laura and co-opinion editor Ben Magarik (‘02) accompanied me, navigating intimidating military checkpoints in lower Manhattan to report on how emergency personnel were using the building.

Meanwhile, other staffers were interviewing students, administrators, faculty, and staff to capture how the Stuy community experienced 9/11 and its aftermath, in both facts and spirit. We met at my apartment and elsewhere to work on a special issue of The Spectator. As it took shape, we decided the best way to do this moment justice was to create a full-color magazine. As we worked, we joked, we cried, we poured our hearts into the reporting, we debated word choices, we shared silent understandings. It was somehow both harrowing and magical. 

The Spectator team responded to the tragic and historic moment with a mission to document history and bear witness—as only we could, as the only student newspaper to capture 9/11 up close. And doing so gave us something meaningful to do at a time when many felt helpless. Not just the students—me, too. It even felt life-changing.

We not only finished the magazine and proudly distributed it to the school, but we also brought it to The New York Times, which printed and circulated 800,000 copies as an insert.

In reflecting over the past 25 years, two things have stood out to me most: our sense of purpose and the bonds we forged. We endured one of the most traumatizing days imaginable, and then pulled together to create an extraordinary work of journalism.

Although it’s not every day that history is made, the opportunity is always there to take (or find) your own sense of purpose, to do something special and meaningful, to bond, even to create magic. Take that opportunity. Who knows? It might even change your life.