Good evening everyone. Let me begin by saying how incredibly proud I am to stand with an organization that supports the finest fire department in the world, the FDNY Foundation. I want to thank Commissioner Bonsignore, Chief Esposito, Chairman DiLiberto for inviting me to speak here at this world-class training academy, The Rock. I also want to thank them for putting me in a bucket 95 feet up in the air, something I certainly never imagined I would do.
I would have felt incredibly honored to receive this award at any time. But as we mark the 25th anniversary of September 11th, I have a range of emotions. I love this city. I've spent my life in New York. I've raised my family here. I'm the CEO of an iconic firm headquartered here for more than 150 years. So when I talk about what this city, what this department means to the city, I'm not speaking as an outside observer. I feel deeply honored but also humbled, almost unworthy because there is no award that I could receive that could compare with the sacrifice that we remember on this anniversary or with the service that has continued to be represented by the men and women here.
September 11th, 2001 was born out of hatred. It was an attack not just on our city or on a set of buildings, but on our nation, on our way of life, on who we are as a people. The terrorists intended to destroy everything we believe in, our openness, our strength, our resolve, but most of all, our belief in one another. But they had the opposite effect. Instead of tearing us apart, they brought this city and this country closer together than I have ever seen before or since.
In the weeks that followed, I watched New Yorkers show up for one another in ways that I still find hard to put into words. Strangers helping strangers. Neighbors checking on neighbors. A city sometimes accused of being cold and too fast, slowing down long enough to hold one another up. The love New Yorkers showed for one another in those weeks will never be forgotten. I will never forget that day or what I saw as I walked up Broadway through the smoke and ash and disbelief surrounding ground zero trying to find my way home to my family.
What I remember most was watching the firefighters run into those towers floor by floor while thousands of us were running the other way. Running toward the danger is not a normal human instinct. That is a calling. Seared into my memory is the number 343. The FDNY firefighters who went into those buildings and never came home. They were part of a larger family of 412 first responders, including police officers and paramedics, who answered the call together and never returned. And in the years that followed, we lost many more to illnesses caused by the toxic environment at ground zero. Those numbers represent individual lives, families, and stories. But they also represent something larger. They represent an idea.
Tonight, as I accept this honor, I want to talk about that idea. And I apologize, Rabbi, if I'm going on a few minutes too long. Because firefighters mean something profound to society that goes well beyond fighting fires. When most people see danger, they look for a way out. Firefighters see danger, they move toward it. The simple difference tells us something extraordinary about who you are. It also tells us something important about who we are.
Society must survive on the basic belief that we have obligations to one another, that the life of a stranger has value, that when another person is in trouble, their emergency in some measure becomes our responsibility. That is not an abstract idea. It is one of the foundations of a civilized society. And firefighters give that idea a human face. When the alarm sounds, you don't ask whether the person in danger is rich or poor, black or white. You don't ask whether you know them, whether they can repay you, or whether they have something to offer in return. You go. You go because someone needs help, and because you've trained for that moment.
We live in a world that often tells us to ask before we help someone, what's in it for me. The firefighter answers a different question. Not what do I get, but who needs me? That is more than courage. It's a philosophy of citizenship. And societies need people who live by that philosophy. On September 11th, firefighters showed us that courage can be stronger than fear and that service can be stronger than self-interest. They could not know whom they would find, whether they would succeed or anyone or whether anyone would ever know what they had done.
That is why all these years later, the meeting of 911 is not only about the destruction that took place that day. It is also about the response. The response told us something about ourselves. When the worst happens, the best in people can still emerge. That is one of the reasons why the FDNY has such a special place in the heart of New York. You don't simply protect the city, you remind the city what it means to be a community.
I saw this spirit up close last month when I visited the firefighters of Engine 10 and ladder 10 at the historic ten house on Liberty Street, just steps from Goldman Sachs headquarters. Walking past the rigs into the kitchen and up to the roof, you could feel the camaraderie. You could see how much they love this job, that house, and this city. That same passion lives in every firehouse across the five burrows. The FDNY is a force of roughly 17,000 firefighters, paramedics, and EMTs responding to millions of emergencies every year. Every one of those calls is someone's worst day. And on every one of those calls, someone is running toward it.
That is why supporting this foundation matters. It's not simply about equipment and training. Important as those things are, it's about supporting the people that have chosen to live by this ideal. It is about making sure the next generation has the tools, the preparation, the support, the resources to continue what generations before them have done. And it's about recognizing that what you do has value not only to the person you pull from a burning building or to the family you help on its worst day.
When people ask me whether Goldman Sachs is proud of our 157-year history in this city, my answer never changes. We have been a part of this community since 1869. After September 11th, we were the first major US company to announce we were building our new headquarters in lower Manhattan, right across the street from the World Trade Center site. We believed in this city then. We believe in it now. We are proud to call it home. And we could not be here today without the men and women of this department keeping it safe every single day.
So tonight, I am proud to accept an award from an organization that represents something I believe deeply in. On behalf of everyone at Goldman Sachs, and on behalf of a city that owes you more than any of us could ever repay, I want to say thank you. Thank you for your service. Thank you for your sacrifice. And thank you for carrying forward an idea bigger than anyone fire, anyone firehouse, or anyone generation, that another person's life matters, that when someone is in danger, we do not turn away. We show up. We run toward them. That's what firefighters mean to this city. And at its deepest level, that is what you mean to society. Remind us of the kind of people we can be, the kind of community we can build when we believe that we're responsible for one another. That is an idea worth believing in. It's an honor to stand with you tonight. Thank you.
