How to Save the World

By Alison Thompson, Miami, Florida

As appeared in

That morning I zoomed through another set of red lights on my Rollerblades, heading downtown in Manhattan. I had a pretty hefty first-aid kit and a small bottle of perfume in my backpack.

People streamed toward me, disoriented, their hair and clothes covered in soot, holding cell phones, trying to get a signal. I pushed forward. Soon I was alone in a blizzard of ash. The ground rumbled, and I dove under a UPS truck for cover.

The second tower of the World Trade Center had just collapsed.

I grew up in Australia, my dad a preacher, my mum a nurse. I had been a nurse’s aide at Mum’s hospital in my teens. More recently in New York I’d been a freelance filmmaker. That day, September 11, 2001, I skated downtown, thinking that I could help somehow.

Without really knowing it, I had also skated into a new role: passionate volunteer.

In the sooty darkness I said a prayer asking God for strength. I darted out from under the UPS truck. I took a whiff of perfume to ward off the stench of smoke then made my way into a store and commandeered a pair of flip-flops from a dazed employee. “I need those,” I said.

Like other volunteers, I started going through the rubble, searching for survivors, but I quickly realized that I wasn’t as well-equipped as the firefighters and ironworkers. Eventually I partnered with an EMT named Mike.

The people who really needed our help were the rescue workers themselves. At the very least we could clean their eyes of dust and ash.

We set up shop in an abandoned bar called St. Charlie’s. We spray-painted a sign out front that read, “Ground Zero First Aid Station.” Our job was to do all we could for those on the front lines in the smoldering rubble.

I remember the firemen bringing us an ironworker who was crazed with exhaustion. He didn’t want to stop working but he could barely stand up. I held his hand and smoothed his hair until he finally fell into a gentle sleep. I wasn’t a doctor or nurse, but this was what I could give, that touch of love necessary in a crisis.

That’s what volunteering is about. Giving your love in a place that desperately needs it. I learned at Ground Zero that I had skills I never knew I had, skills that could make a difference. I could organize, give hugs, pass out water, bandage wounds, clean faces, hold hands, bring hope, pray.

I’m not rich, I’m not affiliated with a big organization, but volunteering has become my full-time job. More than that, it’s my calling. It has changed my life. The beauty of it is that anyone can do it.

Here are the five places in the world that need your help the most. Some you can visit, some are too dangerous for most volunteers. But there’s always something you can do.

Sri Lanka. I was still working in film at Christmastime in 2004 when the massive tsunami devastated parts of Asia. I was glued to the TV news. This wasn’t a place I could skate to, but I yearned to help.

At one point Anderson Cooper was reporting from a pile of rubble and something inside me clicked. I’m going there.

Just so you know how unlikely this was, my boyfriend and I were flat broke. “We’ll borrow frequent-flier miles from our friends,” I said. “We’ll see if anybody we know can donate medical supplies.”

My experience at Ground Zero had taught me that when you’re meant to do something, the whole universe can open up to lend a hand.

We got tickets, medical supplies, cash donations. Even the nurse giving us our vaccinations passed along some free antibiotics and diarrhea pills. We flew to Colombo, Sri Lanka, met up with some other volunteers, packed a van with water and food and headed to the devastated coast.