modern heroes.

This Halloween, we’ll see the requisite superhero-wannabes roaming the streets, clad in their Batman or Superman costumes.

On Sept. 11, we saw real superheroes, in the form of police officers and firefighters, wading through the ash-covered rubble.

Seven years later, you can still find heroes by Ground Zero. Only today, they’re clad in blue track jackets – they are the volunteers at the Tribute WTC Visitor Center.

Where so many have (understandably) tried to move on with their lives and wipe out the memory of the acrid smell and black dust, these men and women dare to remember. They rehash their memories and experiences every day to help educate and inform others about Sept. 11.

If you think this doesn’t sound too daunting, think again. My journalism class went on one such tour this week, and as we listened to tour guide John Henderson describe the impact of the crash, looking at pictures of the destruction, and hearing the stories of the 2751 people who were murdered that day, it was hard not to tear up. And that’s just my reaction – and I was 12 and living in Singapore at the time, as far removed from the tragedy as anyone could be.

Henderson, on the other hand, was here, a little way uptown in Washington Square Park that morning. And now he shares with a dozen strangers memories that are obviously still fresh in his mind. “You have to read what’s on that panel over there,” he said during the tour, referring to a transcript of a voicemail message from a passenger on Flight 11 to his wife. “I can’t, because if I do, I’ll start crying in front of you and then I’ll feel silly.”

It must take a certain amount of emotional strength to do this job day after day. “There are people here who I give tours with and you can see their health deteriorating,” said Manny Papir, a volunteer docent and 9/11 survivor.

Henderson has volunteered at the Center since 2002. “People always ask me why I do this,” he said, counting off on his fingers. “One: It’s important. Two: I want it done right. Three: If you want something done right, do it yourself.”

“There’s always something you can do,” he reiterated, sounding not unlike Albert lecturing Batman to do his civic duty. “My wife is a hospice worker; she works with dying people. I couldn’t do that. But this? This, I can do.”