THE GREAT 9/11 MARITIME RESCUE

We've read about so many heroes of that fateful day, yet somehow this mission-the largest of its kind in history-remains largely unknown

- Garrett M. Graff

ON A BRIGHT-BLUE morning 21 years ago, Coast Guard Lt. Michael Day was at his office on Staten Island, looking out over lower Manhattan. He was a relatively junior officer whose job involved the safety and navigation oversight of the New York waterways. He also dealt with all the odd questions that tend to crop up in the congested rivers and harbor of one of the largest cities in the world, like queries related to charity swims and the Macy's Fourth of July fireworks. He had negotiated with the Mets when their new stadium lights blinded mariners, and he'd had to tell David Letterman that, no, he could not launch watermelons across the Hudson River toward New Jersey.

It hardly seemed a job destined for history. So, soon after 8:46 a.m., when he heard that a plane had crashed into one of the World Trade Center towers, Day had the same thought that so many Americans did: What an odd accident. Likely a small plane-maybe a helicopter. He watched CNN for a few moments, then went back to his desk and kept working. Every so often, he'd glance over his shoulder at the plume of smoke visible out the window, but he wasn't alarmed. He'd worked in the Twin Towers in his previous job with the Port Authority, and everyone knew how robust they were-the legend was that they could withstand a Boeing 707 crashing into them.

Whatever had happened, it was not a job for the Coast Guard.

Then the second plane hit. And the chaos began.

Over the hours ahead, Day and his colleagues at the Sandy Hook Pilots Association the specially licensed sailors who help larger vessels safely get in and out of the harbor-would help orchestrate the largest maritime evacuation in world history, larger even than the famous British rescue at Dunkirk.