To Whom It May Concern,

My name is Michael Di Pippo, and I am a September 11th, 2001 first responder, volunteer, and victim of the terrorist attacks on New York City. I am hoping to raise funds so that I can maybe purchase prosthetic legs one day, try to learn to ambulate again, and maybe pick up the pieces of my life and move on. If you can donate even a little, I would be very grateful. If you are not financially able to help out now, please find it in your hearts to share my story.

In the days immediately following the attacks, members of my union, Local 137, were approached by Christine Todd Whitman, who served as Administrator of the United States Environmental Protection Agency from 2001 to 2003 under President George W. Bush. She visited our union hall and asked for volunteers with specialized skills, including crane operators, heavy equipment operators, commercial driver's license holders, and individuals experienced in construction and engineering.

During her presentation, volunteers were provided with informational materials and forms to complete. We were informed that air quality was being closely monitored and that respiratory protection would be made available as needed. Based on those assurances, many of us stepped forward to assist with the cleanup and recovery efforts at Ground Zero.

My union representative asked me to represent our local because I was a multi-licensed engineer holding both a crane operator's license and certification in structural engineering. I agreed without hesitation. As a lifelong New Yorker, I believed it was my duty to help my city, state, and country during one of the darkest moments in our nation's history.

Over the next eight years, I volunteered on and off at the World Trade Center site. Because this work was unpaid, I continued working elsewhere to support myself while contributing my time and skills whenever possible.

Years later, in 2014, I became seriously ill with what was determined to be a World Trade Center-related respiratory condition. One day, I collapsed near my home in Astoria, Queens, and was transported by ambulance to what is now Mount Sinai Queens. Diagnostic testing, including CT scans and MRIs, revealed that I had developed a blood clot in my lung. The clot broke apart, traveled through my bloodstream, and lodged in my aorta, cutting off oxygenated blood flow to my lower extremities.

My condition rapidly deteriorated. I was transferred to Mount Sinai Hospital for emergency treatment because the necessary surgical resources were not available at the Queens facility. Emergency surgery was performed to remove the clots and attempt to restore circulation.

What followed was a medical nightmare.

From August 18, 2014, until February 12, 2016, I remained hospitalized. During that period, I underwent 37 surgeries, suffered multiple life-threatening complications, and ultimately lost both of my legs. I died twice on the operating table and spent 18 days intubated in the Intensive Care Unit. During that time, a priest administered Last Rites because my survival was uncertain.

Against all odds, I regained consciousness and began the long road to recovery. In 2016, I was discharged to a rehabilitation facility, where I remained for nearly ten years. On September 10th, 2025, I finally returned home to Astoria, the neighborhood where I was born and raised.

Today, however, I find myself facing a different struggle.

Recently, I received notification that I qualified for Supplemental Nutrition Assistance Program (SNAP) benefits totaling $73 per month. While I am grateful for any assistance, this amount is insufficient to meet even basic nutritional needs. Prior to my disability, I earned more than $3,000 per week as a crane operator. Today, I survive on approximately $2,100 per month in Social Security disability benefits.

Because I am homebound and cannot access grocery stores, I often rely on food delivery services. As a result, the monthly SNAP benefit is exhausted almost immediately.

What has been even more troubling is that I subsequently received a notice classifying me as an Able-Bodied Adult Without Dependents (ABAWD) and requiring me to attend an in-person appointment at a local SNAP office.

I am a bilateral above-knee amputee. I cannot walk. I currently do not possess prosthetic legs because the advanced prosthetics necessary for my condition have been deemed prohibitively expensive by my insurance provider. My residence also contains steps that significantly limit my mobility and independence. There are no ramps, elevators, or an electric chair to help me leave my home. My landlord refuses to accommodate me by any means.

Given these circumstances, being classified as "able-bodied" is both confusing and deeply distressing.

I have never sought special treatment, sympathy, or even a donation in my life, but times have changed. I simply ask that my situation be evaluated accurately and fairly, and maybe if anyone can afford to donate even $1.00 to my cause, I would be extremely grateful. :( I answered the call when my city needed help, I volunteered my time, risked my life and health, and ultimately paid an extraordinary personal price. Like many others affected by the events of September 11th, I continue to live with the consequences of my decision to stand by my city, state, and country every day. I'm tired of being sick.

I was not awarded compensation through the September 11th Victim Compensation Fund because my injuries did not meet the program's eligibility criteria of developing "C". Nevertheless, my life was permanently altered as a result of my service and exposure during the World Trade Center recovery effort.

My purpose in sharing this story is not to seek sympathy, but to raise awareness about the challenges that some September 11th responders continue to face more than two decades later. Many sacrificed their health, careers, financial security, and quality of life in service to their communities and country. Their experiences should not be forgotten.

September 11th taught us the meaning of courage, sacrifice, and unity. As a nation, we promised to remember those who stepped forward in a time of crisis, but ultimately, they forgot us. I hope my story serves as a reminder that some of those sacrifices continue long after the headlines have faded.

If you find it in your hearts to donate, I would ask God to personally bless all those who contributed or shared my story if they were not financially able to give a little.

Never Forgive, Never Forget.

Respectfully,

Michael Di Pippo

Disabled 911 First Responder

Double Amputee

Astoria, New York,