9/11 hero Welles Crowther's firehouse president reveals what shaped the 'man in the red bandana'

Presidential Medal of Freedom Honor for 9/11 Hero Welles Crowther Tied to Roots in Small New York Firehouse
A ceremony at the White House on Tuesday to present the Presidential Medal of Freedom posthumously to Welles Crowther — the young stockbroker who became known nationwide as the "man in the red bandana" — brought attention to an unlikely source of his heroism: a volunteer firehouse tucked away in Upper Nyack, New York.
Crowther's mother, Alison, spoke directly about the Empire Hook and Ladder Company Number One during the event, making clear that the training and traditions her son absorbed there were essential to what he accomplished on September 11, 2001.
"Welles would not have been able to do what he did as effectively on 9/11 if it had not been for the training and experience he gained as a member of Empire Hook and Ladder Company Number One of Upper Nyack," she said.
That small, community-rooted fire company played a defining role in shaping Crowther long before the attacks. David "Trevor" Gottlieb, the company's current president, explained that Crowther was embedded in its culture from early childhood.
"I joined in '88, he was five years younger than me so probably '93 is when he first started," Gottlieb said. "I was still away in college. I came back and worked with him from '93 on."
He added that Crowther's family was deeply woven into the organization's history. Welles' father, Jefferson, had served as an ex-captain and the company's treasurer, making the firehouse a multi-generational affair.
"Volunteer fire service is usually multi-generational," Gottlieb said. "Kid's been coming down here since he could walk."
That early exposure to discipline, selflessness, and civic duty would prove extraordinary in practice two decades later. On the morning of the attacks, Crowther was working as a stockbroker in the South Tower of the World Trade Center. When the planes struck, he did not flee. Instead, he immediately began helping others escape, carrying a red bandana he kept in his wallet as he guided people down the burning building.
In the end, Crowther assisted in leading at least 18 civilians to safety before he lost his own life.
"Welles Crowther was in the towers. He was working for a trading firm that day. And he assisted with the rescue of at least 18, I think was the final count they got. Eighteen civilians that he helped lead to safety and ultimately lost his life doing that," Gottlieb recalled.
Gottlieb described Crowther's actions as the natural product of the principles instilled at Empire Hook and Ladder, where members are taught that helping others is not optional — it is foundational.
"I think what Welles' impression he left upon us was anything's possible. And when you're faced with, you know, 108 floors and the chaos and the destruction all around you, when you sit back and rely on your training, on how you were brought up, I think that makes your job much easier," he said.
The spirit of volunteer firefighting, Gottlieb argued, is one that transcends politics, religion, and any other dividing line. He pointed to the decisive mindset of those who chose to stay and help on 9/11 rather than run.
"When you look at what happened that day, somebody made the decision to not run. They made the decision to stay and help. And they didn't ask if you're a Republican, a Democrat, a Muslim, a Jew, a Catholic," Gottlieb said. "You're somebody who needs help. And the human spirit needs to continue that way."
He stressed that the camaraderie within Empire Hook and Ladder — where some families have served across five generations — is what makes such acts possible.
"I would lay my life down for any one of them. And I think they would do the same for me," Gottlieb said. "That's something that's kind of instilled in when you join here. And it's perfected throughout years and multi-generations of that behavior."
Crowther's ultimate sacrifice also casts light on the enduring toll of the attacks beyond the immediate day of tragedy. Gottlieb noted two other members of the Empire Hook and Ladder family — Harry Wannamaker Jr. and Joe Stach Jr. — who both died from health complications linked to exposure on September 11.
"We should never forget. We should never forget the sacrifice that everybody made, in particular Welles. But there was 343 other firemen that died. And then, since that time, we've lost two more members in Empire related to 9/11 diseases, Harry Wanamaker Jr. and Joe Stach Jr. And it's awful to see the scars that it leaves on families forever," he said.
As the ceremony in Washington honored one man's remarkable courage, Gottlieb used the moment to issue a broader plea to the public. Volunteer fire departments across the country, he said, are struggling with recruitment, and the example set by Crowther should inspire others to step forward.
"Volunteer fire service is hurting for people right now. Everybody's too busy to volunteer," Gottlieb said. "I encourage everyone to do this, make time, help any way you can because your community will be better for it."
For Crowther's former firehouse family in Upper Nyack, the Presidential Medal of Freedom is not simply a recognition of one man's bravery. It is a testament to the culture of service that small community institutions can foster — and a reminder that heroism often begins long before the moment it is needed.
"We are here to step up in the times that probably matter most and be part of something much bigger than ourselves," Gottlieb said. "And when you learn to set that aside and you learn to live with those kinds of principles, I think it makes this job much easier because you know that the guy next to you, the girl next to you, has your back and I have their back."

