At Ground Zero’s Ten House, One Firefighter Remains From the Crew That Faced 9/11
Nearly a quarter of a century after the catastrophic collapse of the World Trade Center, New York City Firefighter Sal Argano continues to report for duty at the firehouse located
Nearly a quarter of a century after the catastrophic collapse of the World Trade Center, New York City Firefighter Sal Argano continues to report for duty at the firehouse located directly across the street from Ground Zero. Now 65 years old, Argano holds a unique and solemn distinction: he is the final firefighter on active staff at the station who was also assigned to its ranks on September 11, 2001.
Argano’s survival on that fateful morning was the result of pure chance. When hijacked commercial airliners slammed into the Twin Towers, Argano was not stationed at his usual Manhattan post at the intersection facing the complex. Instead, he had been temporarily reassigned to another fire company in Brooklyn on a routine rotation, placing him across the East River when the initial emergency calls sounded.
Upon learning of the catastrophe, Argano rushed back to Lower Manhattan, navigating through chaos to reach his home station. When he arrived, he found the building heavily damaged by the surrounding destruction yet remarkably still standing. The relief of finding the physical firehouse intact was quickly overshadowed by devastating news: six firefighters from the station were among the 343 members of the Fire Department of New York who perished in the towers' collapse.
The memory of that day and the narrow margin between life and death continue to resonate deeply with the veteran responder. Argano frequently reflects on the assignment schedule that kept him away from the immediate impact zone, acknowledging that had he not been sent on rotation across the river, he almost certainly would have shared the fate of his fallen colleagues.
Today, the fire station that houses Engine 10 and Ladder 10—widely known throughout the city and the world as "Ten House"—functions in an extraordinary dual capacity. While its crews must maintain constant readiness to respond to emergency alarms throughout Lower Manhattan, the building itself has evolved into an essential, living component of the broader September 11 commemorative landscape.
Day after day, an unceasing flow of international tourists and domestic visitors gathers outside the station's open garage doors. Many stop to admire the gleaming red apparatus of Engine 10 and Ladder 10, often pausing to take photographs and selfies as they make their way toward the neighboring National September 11 Memorial plaza.
Other visitors arrive specifically to pay their respects at the exterior of the building. Fixed along the side of the firehouse is an expansive bronze relief memorial that records the names of the hundreds of FDNY members who gave their lives during the rescue efforts, serving as a focal point for solemn reflection.
Working inside such a high-profile location requires a unique temperament from the firefighters stationed there. Capt. Terence Brody, who commands Ladder 10 and has been assigned to the firehouse since 2016, emphasizes that personnel must embrace their interaction with the public. Because the station is renowned across the globe, travelers consistently stop by to express gratitude and connect with the department's history.
Brody, now 55, brings his own vivid memories of that day to his leadership role. On September 11, 2001, he was not yet an experienced firefighter but rather a trainee still completing his coursework at the fire academy. When the attacks occurred, academy cadets were quickly ordered to gather their protective gear and were transported by bus directly into the disaster zone at Ground Zero.
The scene awaiting the arriving recruits was disorienting and horrific. Brody recalls looking out into an environment so thick with pulverized debris and particulate matter that it created the eerie visual impression of a heavy winter snowstorm. The sudden shift from a pristine, bright Tuesday morning to a dark, apocalyptic expanse left an overwhelming impression on the young trainees.
In the grueling days and weeks following the collapse, Ten House became an indispensable operational staging area. Despite its structural damage, the facility provided a critical forward command post for emergency coordinators and served as a much-needed shelter where physically and emotionally exhausted rescue workers could seek temporary refuge between shifts on the pile.
Over the ensuing decades, the personnel stationed at Ten House maintained a front-row view of the gradual, complex rebuilding process that transformed the surrounding neighborhood. Firefighter Robert Favata arrived at Ladder 10 in 2008 straight out of the training academy, stepping into a working environment that directly bordered an enormous, excavated construction pit.
During those initial years, the site was dominated by heavy machinery, structural framing, and deep uncertainty about how long the reconstruction would take. Favata, now 46, remembers feeling skeptical that the monumental undertaking would ever reach completion given the vast void left in the wake of the towers' destruction.
Today, that empty expanse has been completely remade into a national site of remembrance and modern commerce. Where the towers once stood, two immense reflecting pools now feature cascading waterfalls, bordered by bronze parapets inscribed with the names of nearly 3,000 victims. Below the plaza, the 9/11 Museum preserves historical artifacts, including crushed emergency vehicles and structural steel, while newly constructed skyscrapers once again rise into the skyline.
Against this rebuilt backdrop, Ten House remains both an active emergency hub and an enduring bridge to the past. Firefighters stationed there continue to greet visitors from all walks of life, while veterans like Argano stand as silent guardians of the memory of the colleagues who walked out of those same garage doors twenty-five years ago and never returned.
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