Written by Julia Haggerty and Alexandra Winchester<\/p>\n\n\n\n
BROOKLYN, N.Y. When the world was falling apart, Michael Passentino, a New York City firefighter for more than three decades, didn\u2019t hesitate. He remembers the smell, the silence, and the dust of 9\/11 like it was yesterday. <\/p>\n\n\n\n
\u201cI got a call. I was in Brooklyn, and we were driving over as the second tower collapsed,\u201d Passentino said. \u201cWhen we got there, it was worse than Hiroshima. It was eerie and quiet. The city was unrecognizable.\u201d <\/p>\n\n\n\n
Passentino is the uncle of SUNY Cortland student Ally Winchester, a co-author of this article. For Passentino and thousands of other firefighters, that day redefined courage. But for him, personally, firefighting had always been more than a job, it was a calling; one grounded in integrity, teamwork, and an unwavering sense of duty to others.<\/p>\n\n\n\n
\u201cFirefighters are part of the backbone of a community,\u201d Passentino said. \u201cPeople rely on us to show up when everything else is falling apart. It\u2019s a sense of security; someone you can trust.\u201d <\/p>\n\n\n\n
That trust is what drives Passentino every time the alarm sounds. \u201cIt\u2019s not just fires,\u201d he said. \u201cIt\u2019s accidents, medical calls, anything. You\u2019re there for people on their worst day. It\u2019s a hard job, but it means something.\u201d <\/p>\n\n\n\n
Michael’s sense of purpose started long before 9\/11. Like many in New York\u2019s firefighters service, he was drawn to the profession\u2019s noble reputation, a title often described as \u201cNew York\u2019s Bravest.\u201d But behind pride and tradition, there lies relentless preparation and personal sacrifice. <\/p>\n\n\n\n
\u201cYou see bad things,\u201d Passentino said. \u201cBut this job is the most rewarding thing. A firefighter loves fires. It\u2019s like when kids are on a team and they have to practice to get in the game. We practice to help. It\u2019s all teamwork.\u201d <\/p>\n\n\n\n
That teamwork became critical on Sept. 11, 2001. When communications systems failed, firefighters on the ground relied on instinct, unity, and improvisation. <\/p>\n\n\n\n
\u201cWe couldn\u2019t keep in touch,\u201d Passentino recalled. \u201cEverything was knocked out. Couldn\u2019t get water. They used tractors to knock down cars for us so we could get to the rigs.\u201d <\/p>\n\n\n\n
The destruction was so massive that he and his team were stationed in what used to be a Rite Aid store now buried under five stories of debris. \u201cWe carried our equipment up 34 flights and sprayed everything on fire. Nothing went out,\u201d Passentino said. \u201cI was stuck there for three months straight.\u201d <\/p>\n\n\n\n
The memory lingers with every word. Even after all these years, Passentino says he can still smell it. \u201cWhile I\u2019m speaking to you, I can smell it,\u201d he said. \u201cVideos, I can also smell. We dug. I just saw bodies. I found bodies by smell. Nothing like the smell of death.\u201d <\/p>\n\n\n\n
The cost of that service has been steep. Passentino has developed terminal cancer and diabetes from toxic exposure at Ground Zero. But he refuses to see his illness as a tragedy. <\/p>\n\n\n\n
\u201cI was supposed to die years ago,\u201d Passentino said. \u201cI\u2019m embarrassed to tell people I\u2019m diabetic because they might think I don\u2019t take care of myself. But I got it because I loved what I did. I\u2019m proud of the way I got it. I earned it from battle.\u201d <\/p>\n\n\n\n
He pauses before adding, \u201cEven if it kills me, I know I died for the people.\u201d <\/p>\n\n\n\n
That pride and humility reflect a defining quality among firefighters, a deep belief in community before self. Michael says it\u2019s that same commitment that keeps the profession honorable despite the dangers. <\/p>\n\n\n\n
\u201cDo it for the right reasons,\u201d he advises to anyone thinking of becoming a firefighter. \u201cDon\u2019t do it for the pension. Do it to help people. Not for the title or the uniform. Do it because you actually care.\u201d <\/p>\n\n\n\n
For him, firefighting has always been about more than putting out flames. It\u2019s about showing up when everything else collapses. <\/p>\n\n\n\n
\u201cYou\u2019ve got to be ready to see things that\u2019ll stay with you forever, day and night,\u201d Michael said. \u201cBut if you\u2019ve got a big heart, there\u2019s no job more rewarding.\u201d <\/p>\n\n\n\n
Today, years after retiring, Passentino still carries that same sense of duty. The illness may have slowed him down, but it hasn\u2019t dimmed his pride. He calls himself \u201ca soldier who never stopped fighting.\u201d His battle scars, the visible and invisible ones, tell a story not of loss but of service, courage, and love for his city. <\/p>\n\n\n\n
Passentino\u2019s story is one shared by thousands of first responders who risked their lives that September morning and continue to bear the physical and emotional weight decades later. But in his mind, it\u2019s not a story of tragedy, it\u2019s one of triumph. <\/p>\n\n\n\n
\u201cPeople talk about heroes,\u201d Passentino said quietly. \u201cBut I just did my job.\u201d <\/p>\n","protected":false},"excerpt":{"rendered":"
Written by Julia Haggerty and Alexandra Winchester BROOKLYN, N.Y. When the world was falling apart, Michael Passentino, a New York City firefighter for more than three decades, didn\u2019t hesitate. He remembers the smell, the silence, and the dust of 9\/11 like it was yesterday. \u201cI got a call. I was in Brooklyn, and we were […]<\/p>\n","protected":false},"author":251,"featured_media":10578,"comment_status":"closed","ping_status":"closed","sticky":false,"template":"","format":"standard","meta":{"_exactmetrics_skip_tracking":false,"_exactmetrics_sitenote_active":false,"_exactmetrics_sitenote_note":"","_exactmetrics_sitenote_category":0,"_genesis_hide_title":false,"_genesis_hide_breadcrumbs":false,"_genesis_hide_singular_image":false,"_genesis_hide_footer_widgets":false,"_genesis_custom_body_class":"","_genesis_custom_post_class":"","_genesis_layout":"","footnotes":""},"categories":[3],"tags":[],"class_list":["post-10599","post","type-post","status-publish","format-standard","has-post-thumbnail","category-news","entry"],"featured_image_src":"https:\/\/sites.cortland.edu\/dragon-chronicle\/wp-content\/uploads\/sites\/43\/2026\/07\/ChatGPT-Image-Jul-28-2026-at-01_28_42-PM-600x400.png","featured_image_src_square":"https:\/\/sites.cortland.edu\/dragon-chronicle\/wp-content\/uploads\/sites\/43\/2026\/07\/ChatGPT-Image-Jul-28-2026-at-01_28_42-PM-600x600.png","author_info":{"display_name":"Special Contribution to the Dragon Chronicle","author_link":"https:\/\/sites.cortland.edu\/dragon-chronicle\/author\/paul-arras\/"},"_links":{"self":[{"href":"https:\/\/sites.cortland.edu\/dragon-chronicle\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/posts\/10599","targetHints":{"allow":["GET"]}}],"collection":[{"href":"https:\/\/sites.cortland.edu\/dragon-chronicle\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/posts"}],"about":[{"href":"https:\/\/sites.cortland.edu\/dragon-chronicle\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/types\/post"}],"author":[{"embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/sites.cortland.edu\/dragon-chronicle\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/users\/251"}],"replies":[{"embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/sites.cortland.edu\/dragon-chronicle\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/comments?post=10599"}],"version-history":[{"count":0,"href":"https:\/\/sites.cortland.edu\/dragon-chronicle\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/posts\/10599\/revisions"}],"wp:featuredmedia":[{"embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/sites.cortland.edu\/dragon-chronicle\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/media\/10578"}],"wp:attachment":[{"href":"https:\/\/sites.cortland.edu\/dragon-chronicle\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/media?parent=10599"}],"wp:term":[{"taxonomy":"category","embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/sites.cortland.edu\/dragon-chronicle\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/categories?post=10599"},{"taxonomy":"post_tag","embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/sites.cortland.edu\/dragon-chronicle\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/tags?post=10599"}],"curies":[{"name":"wp","href":"https:\/\/api.w.org\/{rel}","templated":true}]}}