The Thousand-Yard Stare

By Peter Turnley

At 6:30 a.m. on September 12th, 2001, in the rubble of Ground Zero, I saw a fireman sitting alone, looking into the distance with an unfocused gaze. This was a look I had seen before in war zones around the world, when someone’s life compass has been shaken so profoundly that all sense of direction has become confused. They call it the thousand-yard stare. As I made several photographs of this man he looked right through me, oblivious to my presence.

I thought about the man in this picture for many years afterward. Somehow I often thought that in his gaze, I might find some clue to understanding better my own feelings and confusions related to what I witnessed inside the perimeter of Ground Zero during the night of September 11th, 2001.

Ten years ago today
On the morning of 9/11, I was in Cambridge, Massachusetts. When I heard about the attacks on the World Trade Center towers, the only clear thought that I had was that I needed to get there. My mind and body went on autopilot. I had to get to New York. I gathered my cameras, film, and some clothes and ran out the door and headed out.

On the way to New York City, I received a phone call from the girlfriend of my twin brother David, who is also a working photojournalist. She tearfully told me she had not heard from David for hours. Knowing him as we did, we both knew he would have gone to the center of the action. She feared the worst.

It was of course very difficult to get into the city as all of the bridges into Manhattan had been closed. It was a NATO press pass from covering the war in Kosovo that got me across a bridge from the Bronx into Manhattan. Once in, I got as close as I could to Ground Zero and then got out of my car and walked. As I walked, I encountered more and more smoke, mud, and water. At Broadway, a river of ambulances and fire trucks headed south. Suddenly there appeared a huge sprawling of mangled iron and steel and smoke and fire coming out of the ground, all clearly delineated by the night-lights.

There I encountered an intimidating police line. I didn’t want to cause a problem for anyone; I didn’t want to be in the way. So I ducked under an awning of a building, where I stayed for half an hour. Then a person wearing a fire hat and jacket with two cameras around his neck walked through the police barricade and came in my direction. I asked him if he had been making photographs; he said he had. He rolled his eyes and said with emotion that he had never seen anything like it. I introduced myself as a photojournalist. He looked at me and said, "you need to go make photographs." His words gave me courage, and I walked slowly right through the line of police without anyone saying anything.

I've never known who that person was.

I spent all night at Ground Zero, and I made photographs all night long. At one point, a nurse walked by wearing a mask. She looked at me and said, "Baby, you need a mask," and she reached to take hers off to give it to me. I didn't take it, but I will never forget the generosity of her gesture.

At about 5:30 a.m. I inadvertently fell asleep. I had sat down to rest for a short while in a building directly adjacent to Ground Zero. When my eyes opened there was light and I looked at my watch. It was 6:15. I walked downstairs and walked out into the rubble. There was still a lot of smoke, and fires were burning in all directions. One of the first people I saw was the fireman sitting in the rubble by himself looking into the distance. I raised my camera to make a photograph of his gaze, only a short distance from him. I shot several frames.

At ten o'clock that morning I felt that it was time for me to leave the zone. It wasn't easy. I walked a long way trying to find a place where I could leave the area. Eventually I came across a barricade. On the other side there were dozens of photographers, all trying to get into the zone—and one of the first people I saw among them was my brother David. We hugged; he hadn't even known that I was in New York. He had arrived at Ground Zero very early the previous day. From the look in his eyes and his expression, he didn’t need to describe further how intense his experience had been.

The fireman gets a name
Then, in 2004, out of the blue, I received an email from the fireman's girlfriend. That was the first time I learned his name—Sal Isabella.

She wrote that my photograph was the only proof anyone had that Sal, a fireman from Selden, New York, had been at Ground Zero, because he had never been able to speak to anyone about his experience. Linda wrote, "This photograph depicts what Sal tries to put into words but cannot."

I had promised to send Linda and Sal a print of my photograph, and despite my good intentions, got tied up traveling and forgot to do so. I received a second message from Linda months later telling me that she and Sal had broken up—but she asked if could I still send a print. But by the third time I heard from her, they'd gotten married! That time I made sure to have a very nice enlargement made and sent it to Sal and Linda.

By now, I felt a strong need to speak to the man you see in the photograph, so I asked Linda if I could call. When she and I spoke for the first time I thanked her for getting in touch, and asked to speak to Sal. She said to me that Sal couldn’t speak about that day and night, but that he would say hello. She also mentioned that Sal rode a Harley and that they had seen on my website that I had photographed Sturgis and Daytona for Harley, and that this might be a subject he’d enjoy speaking about.

A few seconds later a gruff, deep voice came on the phone. I said, “Hi, Sal, this is Peter, the photographer who made that photograph of you that day at Ground Zero." I told him I'd had a lot of emotions about spending that night there, and that I thought it might help me to know what he was thinking when I took that photograph.

I heard the man on the other end of the phone begin to sob, and this went on for quite a while. Then he gathered himself, and in a clear voice told me that he had lost one of his close friends there that day, Nick Chiafalo, a fellow fireman who had gone up into one of the towers and perished when it came down. He told me that he had arrived at Ground Zero during the day of 9/11 and spent the night looking everywhere for survivors.

He said had never gotten over not being able to find or help his friend Nick.

I said to him, "Sal, you need to know you are a great man and you should be so proud of everything you did." Again, he began to cry. A few minutes later, I said, "Hey, Sal, I hear you ride a Harley. What do you ride?" There was a gentle laugh and we spent a few minutes speaking about Harleys. Before we said goodbye, we agreed it would be very nice if we could meet.

Second encounter
Every year for the past five years, on the evening before the anniversary of 9/11, Sal and I speak on the phone. Every time we do, he invites me to come to Ground Zero on the anniversary so we can meet in person, share a drink, and honor of the memory of those who were lost that day. But I've never been able to go. Each year until this one I've been working overseas on that date.

Two weeks ago I met with Sal at Ground Zero, the first time we have seen each other face to face since that day ten years ago today when the picture at the top of this post was taken. As we hugged and greeted each other, Sal repeated many times, "this is a good day, this is a good day."

There was so much I wanted to ask him, but upon seeing him for the first time after so many years, I didn’t feel a strong need that we speak much—I felt comfort and joy at simply seeing him. After some initial words exchanged, before going to dinner together, I asked Sal if I could make a photograph of him at a memorial along the wall in front of Ground Zero. When he saw that tribute, Sal teared up and said, "those are my brothers there. I should have been with them."

Salvatore Isabella, Ground Zero, New York City, August 23rd, 2011.

I didn’t feel like a photographer with a subject at all. I felt like I was with a brother with whom I didn’t have to say much to be understood and to understand.

Sal and I went to dinner at a New York restaurant. As we were being seated, I asked for a different table, and Sal turned to me and said, "it doesn’t matter, Pete. The only thing that counts is that we're here together." It was true. Over dinner we shared with each other very sincerely and intimately the ups and downs of our lives these past ten years.

Sal is not doing very well physically, I'm sorry to say. He has serious respiratory problems resulting from having participated in recovery efforts for two weeks following 9/11, and several serious ailments caused by his time at Ground Zero. He doesn’t hide the fact that he suffers from post-traumatic stress disorder he thinks is particularly related to losing his friend Nick and other fellow firemen and citizens that day.

A few days ago, we spoke on the phone again, and we both commented on how wonderful it had been to see each other. At one point during the conversation, Sal got mixed up momentarily and called me Nick, the name of the friend he lost on 9/11. I didn’t deserve such an honor. Thank you Salvatore Isabella. You are my hero. Thank you to so many people! God bless.

Peter Turnley
New York
Sept. 11, 2011

All photographs © Peter Turnley/Corbis. All Rights Reserved.

To see a memorial portfolio of Peter's photographs, "Remembering 9/11," taken on September 11th and 12th, 2001, and the days following (including several never before published) please click here. —MJ

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Original contents copyright 2011 by Michael C. Johnston and/or the bylined author. All Rights Reserved.

Featured Comment by Bob Donnelly: "Peter, as your image of Sal the day after 9/11 is displayed on my wall at home I feel this wonderfully written update helps me understand more fully what Sal is going through. It has been three years since I attended your Paris workshop and that image I brought home had so many unanswered questions that now I feel fulfilled. I am still the safety officer on the local fire department and cannot fathom the horror that Sal and all the others witnessed. Thank you."

Featured Comment by Linda Isabella: "Peter, again we meet, albeit online. I regret that I did not accompany Sal, as his wife, for your meeting in Manhattan to share in that experience. I have also wanted to meet you in person since I called you that day in 2004. When I first came across that photo you took of Sal on 9/12/2001, it moved me like nothing else ever did. They say 'a picture paints a thousand words.' You stumbled on a moment in history that sad morning and captured the agony, not only in Sal's heart, but in everyone's.

"I may have shared this with you before, but you express yourself in photographs; I express myself in poetry.

Now I Feel American

By Linda Isabella

I never owned a flag before,
I never flew it proud,
I never felt the urge before
To sing our anthem loud.
It's not that I don't love this land,
But I never knew the pride,
And I never felt the pain of war
Or loved a soldier who had died.
It never crossed my mind to fear
That freedom could desist,
I never thought my heart would clench
Into this raging fist.
I never worried, never thought
That I would see the day
When hate would turn incarnate
To blow liberty away.
When airplanes in our friendly skies
Are cryptic, lethal bombs
That defile and annihilate,
And rape our nation's calm.
I've assumed that peace is guaranteed,
That justice never fails,
That my children won't see acts of war,
That liberty prevails.
But evil slashed America
And took it unawares;
On a sunny, still September day
A country screamed its prayers.
And as we reel from tragedy,
As every heart unites,
America will stand again
In defense of human rights.
Now I feel American
Like I never felt before,
Pure blooded, warm American
In a country I adore.
Now there's a flag pinned to my jacket,
A flag outside my door,
And a flag that flies within my heart
For freedom evermore.

"Thank you for being such a devoted friend to my husband and for recording the horrible tragedy we will never forget."

Comments

[Edie Howe]

...,
...,
...,
.

(Sometimes there just aren't any words.)

[Andrew Roos]

All right thinking people around the world condemn this horrendous and cowardly act. Our thoughts are with the families of those who died, and with those, lake Sal, who survived.

Durbna, South Africa 9/11/2011

[Vu Le]

Quite possibly the most touching and heartbreaking blog post I've ever read. Photos matter. Stories matter. But most of all, people matter. Thank you for bringing these images, this story and this hero into even greater significance.

[Simon F]

Thank you posting this. As an european, I don't think I have ever been able to understand the feelings that 9/11 inspired in so many people before now. Donating some money to TOP now :)

[Michael Ward]

A beautiful written and personal account of the most tragic of events.
On that fateful day my brother in law was in NY. We had to make many phone calls and eventually found out that he was fortunately in a hotel a few blocks away from the twin towers which he had frequented. Like wise when the tsunami hit Sri Lanka he did the same thing trying to find me and fortunately I had departed Columbo when it hit but the place I had been staying in was washed away. We remember those days...

[Peter Hovmand]

This is a beautiful story, Peter, many thanks! It is very fine and good you showed the courage and will to contact Salvatore in such a respectful way. Please try to stay in touch with him, he may not live long. I send him (and you) all my respect.

[wandering Bear]

Glad you met, & shared face to face.
Total Respect for you both.

Bear
Cusco Peru

[darr]

Thank you.

[Doug Coombs]

Very nice essay. The emotion and thoughtfulness come through beautifully. This was better than anything I've been reading in the papers or seeing on tv.

Thanks

[Jim in Denver]

On the momentous occasion that this day recalls, I am sure that there will be other recollections and stories shared by many people. All will be poignant and emotional, but I doubt that many will have the impact and humanity of this.

Thank you to both men, the hero and the witness, who did their duty that day. And thank you for telling the story, most importantly to each other, but also to us.

[Roger Dunham]

This is a story worth being repeated. I have forwarded this to family and friends .

[Tom Swoboda]

The effects of that day, observed from 800 miles away, on my emotions were greater than any news event in my lifetime (64 years). Many of those emotions just came rushing back while reading this. I don't think my year in Viet Nam affected me the way 9/11 did.

[David Teo]

I was sitting in Starbucks on my iPad reading this article. It made me forgot momentarily my own problems and I had to fight the urge to shed tears in public.

I am not American, do not stay in the US and knew no friends who perished on this day 10 years ago, yet the story of grief, sorrow and loss is a universal one, and the events of Sep 11th reverberates worldwide till this day. 10 years ago, this day caused me to pick up the camera with a renewed purpose of documenting the world.

Thank you Mike and Peter for this poignant post!

[Jim Metzger]

It is the individual stories and not the pomp and circumstance that continues to move me to tears.

Heroes choose to put themselves in harms way without any expectation of thanks, so thank you Sal and thank you Peter. And thank you to all those who went to help.

It is not enough.

From just north of New York City but a lifetime away...

Jim

[carol caver]

Peter, thank you for so eloquently sharing Sal's experience with us. I think I finally understand the shared grief that we all carry, that we couldn't "do more to help". The only answer I have is that we must try every day to leave the World an even better place than we found it.
Carol

[Patrick Dodds]

I imagine that, even though you didn't write this Mike, you won't mind me saying that this is one of the most moving posts I have ever read on TOP.

[Kent Whiting]

wow --- what a story

[Edward Davis]

Such a great story. Thank you for sharing this and a BIG thank you to the people like Sal & Nick. You will not be forgotten.

[Bruce Bodine]

Thank you Mike.......

Thank you Peter.......

[Cem]

I have been watching the live coverage of 9/11 on the TV. I have then remembered Michael's message that there would be a special post in TOP today. Having read it now, with tears in my eyes, I can say that it is more than just special. But I cannot find the right words to describe my feelings. Thank you Peter for sharing these memories with us.

[Andrew]

Thank you.

[Jeffrey Goggin]

An interesting counterpoint to all of today's activities: http://www.esquire.com/blogs/politics/december-7-1951

[Bryce Lee in Canada]

Have my own feelings about 9/11. As a foreigner, not entirely enthralled with US politics, looked on the event differently. Felt on seeing the buildings collapse "somebody, somewhere designed the buildings to collapse down and not out. "Otherwise the loss of life and yes physical structures would have been much worse.

Peter's description of Sal was the poignant description of an indiviudal simply doing his job; in a way 9/11 was a disaster as are so many others similar. and the people responded as expected in many ways.

We shall probably never know exactly what the cause was, any more than theories revolve around the Kennedy assasination in 1963. Paranoia is now the watchword in the UNited States where police now seem to have unlimited power, everybody is running scared which was what the event
was intended to do.

Bottom line, it is a part of your country's history, and heritage. Just leave it at that and move on, as with
the passage of time itself.

[expiring_frog]

Moving story and moving pictures. Thank you Peter.

[Bruce Bodine]

Thank you Mike....

Thank you Peter....

[Howard Cornelsen]

Thank you for a very moving remembrance. My best to Sal and Linda, and to you and David. It's the little things that make the moment.

[Laurence S]

Peter. So well written, and I feel it is an honor that you have recounted this slice of life post-9/11. It is only one permutation of possibly hundreds of thousands of stories, but it really brings home to my heart the tribulations and strength of you and your friend Sal. A very unique bond yo have Peter, and it is wonderful to have been priveleged to hear this vignette of dignity from you.

Laurence Smith

[Matt Stevens]

Thanks for your photo and story... both striking the essence of the real. While we may never know the true origin of 911, the outcomes are well known and your photograph is an incredible document.

[Christopher Lane]

My sincerest thanks to you both.

Chris

[Kevin]

Thank you.

[Yoram N]

Only when reading this post for the third time did I see that its name was "The Thousand-Yard Stare". I was sure I was reading "The Thousand-Year Stare".
Thank you very much for this moving memory of the day

[Lutz Goldermann]

My sincerest thanks, respect and sympathy to the three of you. As a European I look back on the last century with our own history so rich in bloodshed and human suffering. Maybe that´s why an individual story makes me understand your feelings much better than all the official rememberance stuff. This is certainly the most moving and maybe the most important TOP post ever. As a pixel counter and gearhead I feel deeply ashamed. So much more important things going on...
What about a print sale with the money donated to Sal?
Keep up the good work,
Lutz

[Margot]

Wow, this is amazing. Very beautiful story, it moved me to tears. Sometimes I think of events like this as one massive thing, not of thousands, tenthousends, millions of individuals that are in some way part of this. This individual story makes clear again that all those people have their own story and experiences with 9/11. You both are heroes.

[Jim]

Thanks very much for the story. Today everyone is thinking of that day 10 years ago. It's nice to hear that you and Sal got something positive out of this tragedy.

[John Krauss]

Thank you so much for sharing this moving story. I am really touched by your essay. I am so glad that you finally met Sal. I am glad you had that opportunity because from our conversations in Paris, I was concerned the meeting opportunity might not take place.

As you have so aptly described, photography is storytelling. You photos tell that story of the aftermath of 9/11.

In a split second lives change for ever. Life isn't fair, but it goes on.

Thanks again.

John

[Michael Lerner]

A beautiful story, Peter, and beautifully told. Bonded in friendship by memory and pain. Thanks for putting it all down so eloquently and affectingly.

[Jose Rosas]

Thank you, Peter, for such an emotional post.

Jose
Lima, Peru

[David Bostedo]

Thank you Peter. (And Mike.)

[JR]

The shock reaction of civilians is often similar with what soldiers experience on the battlefield. But I would not attempt to make it fair by mix it together because it is not.

[ben ng]

thank you Peter, and thank you Mike. You show the meaning of bearing witness, and what it means to be human. Not many people can do this, and you make those around you better. (go on, take the compliment!)

[Hans]

Thank you Peter. I made a point, for reasons I can't fully understand, of not reading any of the 9/11 articles posted these last few days, or watching any of the innumerable TV specials. I guess I just wanted to spend the day mulling my own thoughts on the matter. But I noted Mike's comment, several days ago, about your upcoming article, so I made this one exception. And I'm glad I did. Very moving. Thanks for sharing.

[John Gillooly]

Really a tremendous story - thanks for sharing it here. I flew out of Boston to NYC and arrived at La Guardia by about 7:30am. I was on a bridge to the Bronx when my wife called to see if I was OK. This was the first I had heard of it even though I was now in NY.

I am a commercial photographer. I could see the tops of the WTC buildings and the smoke plumes from the roof of the school I was shooting. But while I had a good sense of the gravity of what was going on, I did not have a burning desire to make my way to lower Manhattan - whether I could have gotten there or not.

I say this as a testament to these photojournalists. It's in their blood. I know if I was there I could make lots of great images, but I'm not there. I don't get there. I don't have this trigger in me that says that I must get there and make images. Part of me wishes I did while part of me is relieved.

I think it is very similar to other areas of your life and how people respond. Some people rush to scenes of danger despite the risk, others avoid them at all cost. Some are thrust unwillingly into a moment like this and finally get the answer to that latent question - "What would I do?"

Most people, the lucky ones I guess, skim through life never really sure how they would respond in a moment of terror?

There is a song by the Mighty Mighty Bosstones that speaks to this thought - The Impression That I Get. I'm not a huge MMB fan but the lyrics of this song always stuck with me.

So thank you to Peter, Sal and folks with this type of outward heroism in your blood. We are safer because of people like Sal and more knowledgeable because of people like Peter.

[Kim.]

Peter's story made me sob openly! I don't cry easily: but I feel so much for Sal! This is easily the most amazing story I have ever read about 9/11, and the best post on TOP *EVER*! Another poster said "What about a print sale with the money donated to Sal?". I completely agree!! Mike: you have been musing about a print sale of your own shots - do it for this! I'm in Australia, and far away from NY; but Peter's story made the horror of this event seem like it happened next door. You are a hero Sal, as are your colleagues!

[Thingo]

Peter, thanks for the story behind the "thousand yard stare" photograph.

There is a palpable sense of family, amongst firefighters, around our little blue spec in the cosmos. And like most families, those physically closer, those with whom we turn out to jobs, with those we develop extra strong bonds, as demonstrated by Sal.

Here in the antipodes, we too, particularly remember those who ran towards the World Trade Centre, and their comrades who participated in the search for survivors.

[mark]

A touching story, and a great advert for the power of photography and photo-journalism.

[David Dyer-Bennet]

Thank you, Peter. I'm suffering a bit from 9/11 fatigue, and your article made that a little bit better for me; you seem to me to address real things, and not engage in posturing.

[Darrell]

Yesterday, the History Channel ran a very interesting program on the subject of the 9/11 attacks titled "102 Minutes That Changed America". It consisted of film footage shot by nine videographers including some pros and some amateurs. The History Channel did a good job putting the videos together to tell the story of that morning without using extra commentary from "talking heads" at the news companies. If they run it again, I recommend watching it.

[Robin Dreyer]

Thanks, Peter, Sal, and Mike for this beautiful story.

[Mike Evans]

Thank you for such a great article and photographic inspiration. And thanks to Sal and his friends for their selfless courage.
Ever since that day, their example has led me to do work for people in places I'm not sure I would have ever gone. Their relentless recovery work after the attacks reminded me that everyone matters and deserves dignity in life as well as death.

[Ken Harris]

Great photos. Keep up the good work.

[Mary Pat Cooney]

I am so glad a photographer friend forwarded your post to me. I too am drawn to the personal stories from this massive event (and others) that changed our lives in so many ways. It is the individual people who create history.

My thanks to you, to Salvatore and Linda for sharing the story, and for taking the required time and consideration to do so. My heartfelt best wishes.

[David Robinson]

The guts and sinew of humanity read raw,cried.Thank you.

[MELCHIOR DI GIACOMO]

PETER,DAVID AND I ALL WORKED FOR NEWSWEEK FOR MANY YEARS.I'M FAMILIAR WITH THEIR WORK AND AM A GREAT ADMIRER OF THEIR IMAGES AND COURAGE. IT TAKES COURAGE TO PLACE YOURSELF IN HARM'S WAY.THEIR MISSION IS SIMPLE AND DIFFICULT.THEY ARE OUR WITNESS.THEY TELL THE STORY IN VISUAL TERMS THAT OUR EYES CANNOT DENY.IMAGINE TURNING ON YOUR CAR RADIO AND HEARING A DESCRIPTION OF THE TOWERS DISTRESS.AS EXACT AS IT MAY BE,IT PALES IN COMPARISON TO THE VISUAL IMAGE.
PETER WAS NOT ON ASSIGNMENT HERE.HE WASN'T BEING PAID.HE WAS THERE BECAUSE THIS IS HIS JOB.HE WILL BE WHEREVER A STORY IS TO BE TOLD.HEED LESS OF THE DANGER,THE TURNLEYS WILL BE FOUND IN THE MIDDLE OF THE MESS FOLLOWING THE MONTRA OF EVERY CARING,COMPASSIONATE PHOTOJOURNALIST WHEN ASKED WHAT THE LIGHT IS LIKE,"IT'S F8 AND BE THERE."
WELL DONE PETER.AND CONGRATULATIONS ON YOUR WONDERFUL TEXT. WITH A KISS ON BOTH CHEEKS, MEL DI GIACOMO