Fall and Rise

Fall and Rise Plot Summary

Introduction

On a clear Tuesday morning in September 2001, the world as Americans knew it changed forever. The attacks that unfolded that day represented not merely a terrorist strike but a pivotal moment in history that would transform how a superpower viewed itself, its vulnerabilities, and its place in the world. In the span of less than two hours, nineteen men armed with little more than box cutters executed a plan that would claim nearly three thousand lives, trigger two wars, reshape global politics, and fundamentally alter how Americans lived their daily lives. This historical examination takes readers through the complex web of events before, during, and after the attacks, revealing the intelligence failures that allowed them to happen, the heroism that emerged amid tragedy, and the long-term consequences that continue to reverberate today. Through intimate portraits of victims, survivors, and decision-makers, we witness how a single day of violence created ripple effects across health, security, foreign policy, and national identity. Whether you lived through these events or were born after they occurred, understanding this watershed moment provides crucial context for making sense of our current world—from airport security procedures to surveillance policies, from military engagements to the psychological impacts of living with terrorism as a constant possibility.

Chapter 1: Warning Signs: Intelligence Failures Before September 2001

Throughout the 1990s, a series of warning signs pointed to the growing threat of Islamic extremism targeting American interests. The 1993 World Trade Center bombing, which killed six people and injured over a thousand, should have served as a wake-up call. The mastermind behind that attack, Ramzi Yousef, had explicitly targeted the towers as symbols of American economic power. Following this came the 1998 bombings of U.S. embassies in Kenya and Tanzania, which killed 224 people, and the 2000 attack on the USS Cole in Yemen that claimed 17 American sailors. Each incident represented an escalation in both tactical sophistication and ideological commitment. In February 1998, Osama bin Laden and his deputy Ayman al-Zawahiri published a fatwa declaring war on America, stating that killing Americans was "an individual duty for every Muslim." Despite this explicit declaration, bin Laden remained largely unknown to the American public. The CIA had been tracking him since the mid-1990s, even maintaining a special unit called "Alec Station" dedicated to monitoring his activities. However, the intelligence community struggled to convince policymakers that this Saudi exile in Afghanistan represented a serious threat to homeland security. The summer of 2001 saw a dramatic spike in intelligence "chatter" about potential attacks. CIA Director George Tenet later described this period as a time when "the system was blinking red." In July, an FBI agent in Phoenix wrote a memo expressing concern about Middle Eastern men with extremist ties receiving flight training in the United States. In August, the arrest of Zacarias Moussaoui, later known as the "20th hijacker," raised alarms about foreign nationals seeking pilot training without interest in learning how to land. Most tellingly, on August 6, 2001, President Bush received a Presidential Daily Brief titled "Bin Laden Determined to Strike in U.S.," which mentioned the possibility of hijackings. These warnings failed to trigger coordinated action due to structural and cultural barriers within the intelligence community. The FBI and CIA rarely shared information effectively, operating with different missions and institutional cultures. The FBI focused primarily on gathering evidence for criminal prosecutions, while the CIA collected intelligence to inform policy decisions. This division created dangerous blind spots that the 9/11 plotters exploited. Additionally, there was a collective failure of imagination—security officials remained fixated on traditional hijacking scenarios rather than considering innovative terrorist tactics like using aircraft as weapons. The hijackers themselves moved through America with remarkable ease. They opened bank accounts, rented apartments, and took flying lessons while maintaining low profiles. Two of them, Nawaf al-Hazmi and Khalid al-Mihdhar, were known al-Qaeda operatives who had attended a terrorist summit in Malaysia monitored by the CIA. Yet this information wasn't effectively shared with the FBI or immigration authorities, allowing them to enter and remain in the United States unhindered. The terrorists understood the American system well enough to navigate through its gaps and vulnerabilities. By September 10, 2001, all nineteen hijackers were in position, their tickets purchased, their plans finalized. The intelligence community possessed many of the pieces needed to uncover the plot but lacked the framework to assemble them into a coherent picture. This failure of integration, imagination, and urgency would have devastating consequences as the sun rose on what began as an ordinary Tuesday morning in America.

Chapter 2: The Day of Attacks: Four Flights and Three Targets

The morning of September 11, 2001, dawned with perfect late-summer weather across the northeastern United States—what pilots call "severe clear" with unlimited visibility. As millions of Americans began their workday, nineteen men from the Middle East executed a meticulously planned operation that would change the course of history. Between 7:59 a.m. and 8:42 a.m., four commercial airliners departed from three East Coast airports: American Airlines Flights 11 and 77, and United Airlines Flights 175 and 93. All were bound for California, selected specifically for their long-haul routes that would ensure maximum fuel loads. The hijackings began approximately 15 minutes after takeoff. On American Flight 11, Mohamed Atta and his team used box cutters and small knives to overpower the crew and gain control of the cockpit. Flight attendant Betty Ong made a phone call to American Airlines reservations: "The cockpit is not answering, somebody's stabbed in business class—and I think there's mace—we can't breathe." Similar scenarios unfolded on the other flights as the terrorists executed their carefully coordinated plan. The existing hijacking protocols, which instructed crews to comply with demands rather than resist, proved fatal in this new paradigm where the hijackers themselves intended to pilot the aircraft. At 8:46 a.m., American Airlines Flight 11 slammed into the North Tower of the World Trade Center between the 93rd and 99th floors. Initial confusion reigned as many believed they were witnessing a terrible accident. This perception changed dramatically when United Flight 175 struck the South Tower at 9:03 a.m., captured live on television broadcasts that had begun following the first impact. The second crash made it unmistakably clear that America was under attack. At 9:37 a.m., American Flight 77 hit the Pentagon, and at 10:03 a.m., United Flight 93 crashed in a field near Shanksville, Pennsylvania, after passengers fought back against the hijackers. Inside the Twin Towers, the impacts destroyed critical infrastructure, including stairwells and elevator shafts, trapping thousands above the impact zones. The heat from the jet-fuel-fed fires reached over 1,000 degrees Fahrenheit, weakening the buildings' structural steel. At 9:59 a.m., just 56 minutes after being struck, the South Tower collapsed in a thunderous roar. Twenty-nine minutes later, the North Tower followed. The collapses killed hundreds of firefighters, police officers, and other emergency responders who had rushed into the buildings to save lives. In total, 2,753 people died at the World Trade Center site. The attacks revealed critical vulnerabilities in America's aviation security and emergency response systems. The hijackers had exploited the fact that airport screening focused primarily on preventing bombs in luggage rather than stopping armed hijackers. Small knives were permitted under federal regulations. Air marshals were assigned only to international flights. Perhaps most critically, the entire security apparatus operated under outdated assumptions about hijackings—that terrorists would want to land planes safely and make demands, not use them as guided missiles. Similarly, emergency response agencies struggled with communication failures, jurisdictional conflicts, and the unprecedented scale of the disaster. By early afternoon, the Federal Aviation Administration had taken the unprecedented step of grounding all civilian aircraft nationwide—over 4,500 planes. Military fighters patrolled the skies over major cities. President Bush, who had been reading to schoolchildren in Florida when the attacks began, addressed the nation that evening: "America was targeted for attack because we're the brightest beacon for freedom and opportunity in the world. And no one will keep that light from shining." As Americans struggled to comprehend the day's events, it was already clear that September 11, 2001, would join December 7, 1941, as a date that would live in infamy—a day when external attack fundamentally altered the nation's trajectory.

Chapter 3: Heroes in the Sky: Flight 93's Passenger Resistance

United Airlines Flight 93 departed Newark International Airport at 8:42 a.m., 42 minutes behind schedule due to routine airport congestion. This delay would prove consequential. By the time the four hijackers, led by Ziad Jarrah, took control of the cockpit at 9:28 a.m., the other hijacked planes had already struck their targets, and news of the attacks was spreading rapidly. Unlike the passengers on the earlier flights, those aboard Flight 93 had a critical advantage: information. Through phone calls to loved ones on the ground, they learned about the attacks on the World Trade Center and Pentagon, giving them devastating clarity about their likely fate. The plane's cockpit voice recorder captured the violent takeover. "Mayday! Mayday! Mayday!" one of the pilots shouted into the radio. "Hey—get out of here!" The hijackers forced the passengers to the back of the aircraft and claimed to have a bomb. But among those 33 passengers and 7 crew members were individuals who refused to accept their fate passively. Through approximately 13 phone calls made from the plane, we know how quickly an impromptu community formed among strangers who just hours earlier had been reading newspapers or napping in their seats. Todd Beamer, a 32-year-old software salesman and Sunday school teacher, reached a GTE Airfone operator named Lisa Jefferson. After reciting the Lord's Prayer with her, he was heard saying to fellow passengers, "Are you guys ready? Okay. Let's roll." Tom Burnett, a 38-year-old medical device executive, called his wife Deena four times, telling her in his final call, "We're going to do something." Jeremy Glick, a former collegiate judo champion, told his wife they had voted to fight back. Mark Bingham, a public relations executive and former rugby player, called his mother to say goodbye. Flight attendant CeeCee Lyles, a former police officer, left a message for her husband: "I hope to be able to see your face again, baby. I love you." At 9:57 a.m., the passenger revolt began. The cockpit voice recorder captured their assault and the terrorists' desperate response. "They want to get in there. Hold from the inside," Jarrah told his accomplices in Arabic. He rocked the plane violently to throw the passengers off balance, but they kept coming. "In the cockpit! If we don't, we'll die!" someone shouted. Realizing they would lose control, the terrorists made a fateful decision. "Is that it? I mean, shall we pull it down?" Jarrah asked. "Yes, put it in, and pull it down," another hijacker replied. At 10:03 a.m., the plane plunged into an empty field near Shanksville, Pennsylvania, at approximately 563 miles per hour, killing everyone aboard. The significance of Flight 93 extends far beyond the immediate events of that day. The passengers' resistance represented the first counterattack in what President Bush would later call "the first war of the twenty-first century." Their actions likely saved countless lives and prevented the destruction of a symbolic target in Washington, D.C.—possibly the U.S. Capitol Building or the White House. More broadly, their story established a new paradigm for responding to hijackings, one where passengers and crew are active participants in their own security rather than passive hostages. This shift in mindset would be codified in post-9/11 security protocols and training. Perhaps most importantly, the story of Flight 93 provided Americans with a narrative of agency and resistance on a day otherwise defined by shock, helplessness, and horror. In the crucible of those 35 minutes between the hijacking and the crash, ordinary citizens transformed into extraordinary heroes. Their courage demonstrated that even in the most desperate circumstances, human beings retain the capacity for moral choice, collective action, and self-sacrifice for the greater good. As passenger Todd Beamer's wife Lisa would later write, "In a crisis, you don't know how people will react until the moment comes. The passengers of Flight 93 stood up when their moment came."

Chapter 4: Ground Zero: Rescue, Recovery and Remembrance

When the Twin Towers collapsed, they created a 16-acre disaster zone unlike anything emergency responders had ever encountered. The site that would come to be known as "Ground Zero" contained 1.8 million tons of debris, including twisted steel beams, pulverized concrete, office contents, and human remains. Fires burned beneath the rubble for 99 days, with temperatures reaching 1,500 degrees Fahrenheit in some areas. The air was filled with a toxic mixture of asbestos, lead, mercury, dioxins, and other hazardous substances that would later cause serious health problems for those exposed. The initial rescue phase was marked by desperate hope and extraordinary courage. Firefighters, police officers, paramedics, and construction workers converged on Lower Manhattan, forming bucket brigades to pass debris hand-to-hand as they searched for survivors. They worked in treacherous conditions, navigating unstable debris piles with voids that could collapse at any moment. Thermal imaging cameras and sensitive listening devices were deployed to detect signs of life beneath the rubble. Rescue dogs worked until their paws bled, then continued with protective booties. Despite these heroic efforts, only 20 people were pulled alive from the wreckage. The last survivor, Port Authority secretary Genelle Guzman-McMillan, was rescued 27 hours after the collapse. As hope for finding survivors diminished, the operation transitioned to recovery—a phase that would continue for nine months. Workers meticulously sifted through debris, searching for human remains and personal effects that might bring closure to families. Every time remains were found, work would stop, and an honor guard would escort the body or body part from the site. This reverence amid devastation reflected a fundamental human need to find meaning in tragedy and to honor those lost through the dignity of the response. The recovery operation was not just about clearing debris but about bringing closure to families and preserving the dignity of the dead. The medical examiner's office faced unprecedented challenges in identifying victims. Many bodies were completely vaporized by the intense heat and pressure of the collapse. Others were fragmented into thousands of pieces. Advanced DNA techniques were developed specifically for this task, yet despite these efforts, approximately 40% of victims were never identified. For many families, there would be no remains to bury, no physical focus for their grief. This absence of closure became one of the enduring traumas of 9/11, with families continuing to receive notifications of newly identified remains decades later as technology advanced. Beyond the physical recovery, New Yorkers and Americans nationwide engaged in a parallel process of psychological and spiritual healing. Impromptu memorials appeared throughout the city, with walls of missing person posters gradually transforming into walls of remembrance. St. Paul's Chapel, which miraculously survived undamaged despite standing directly across from the World Trade Center, became a rest area for recovery workers and later a memorial site. Candlelight vigils, interfaith services, and community gatherings provided spaces for collective mourning. The phrase "Never Forget" became both a promise and an imperative, reflecting the determination to honor the dead by remembering not just how they died but how they lived. The question of how to rebuild the World Trade Center site sparked intense debate about the appropriate balance between commemoration and revitalization. Some argued that the entire site should become a memorial, while others emphasized the importance of economic recovery and the symbolic value of rebuilding. The final plan represented a compromise: a memorial and museum occupying the footprints of the original towers, surrounded by new office buildings including the 1,776-foot-tall One World Trade Center. The memorial, featuring two reflecting pools with water cascading into the voids where the towers once stood, opened on the tenth anniversary of the attacks. The names of all 2,977 victims are inscribed in bronze panels surrounding the pools, creating a place for remembrance that acknowledges both individual lives lost and the collective magnitude of the tragedy.

Chapter 5: America Responds: War on Terror and Security Revolution

In the days following the attacks, President George W. Bush articulated a new national security doctrine that would guide American policy for decades. Speaking to a joint session of Congress on September 20, 2001, he declared: "Our war on terror begins with al-Qaeda, but it does not end there. It will not end until every terrorist group of global reach has been found, stopped, and defeated." This expansive vision transformed what might have been a limited operation against al-Qaeda into an open-ended global campaign against terrorism itself. Bush established a stark binary: "Either you are with us, or you are with the terrorists." This framework would shape international relations for years to come. The military response began swiftly. On October 7, 2001, American and British forces launched Operation Enduring Freedom, targeting al-Qaeda training camps and Taliban positions in Afghanistan. Rather than a conventional invasion, the initial campaign relied heavily on CIA operatives, Special Forces teams, and massive air support working alongside Northern Alliance fighters opposed to the Taliban. This approach proved remarkably effective in the short term. By December, the Taliban government had fallen, and thousands of terrorists had been killed or captured. However, Osama bin Laden escaped into Pakistan's tribal regions, setting the stage for a prolonged conflict that would eventually become America's longest war. Domestically, the attacks triggered the most significant reorganization of the U.S. government since the National Security Act of 1947. The Department of Homeland Security was created in 2002, consolidating 22 existing agencies with approximately 170,000 employees. The Transportation Security Administration replaced private security contractors at airports with federal employees. The USA PATRIOT Act, passed just 45 days after the attacks with minimal debate, dramatically expanded surveillance capabilities and reduced restrictions on intelligence gathering. These measures reflected a fundamental shift in the balance between security and civil liberties, with many Americans willing to accept greater government intrusion in exchange for perceived safety. The intelligence community underwent radical transformation. The position of Director of National Intelligence was created to oversee all 16 intelligence agencies. The National Counterterrorism Center established a mechanism for intelligence sharing that had been notably absent before 9/11. The CIA expanded its paramilitary capabilities and drone program, while the NSA developed unprecedented surveillance systems that would later be revealed by Edward Snowden. These changes represented not just organizational restructuring but a philosophical shift toward preemptive action against potential threats rather than reactive response to completed attacks. Perhaps the most controversial aspects of America's response were the expansion of executive power and the establishment of detention facilities at Guantanamo Bay, Cuba. The Bush administration asserted broad wartime powers, including the authority to designate "enemy combatants" who could be held indefinitely without trial. Enhanced interrogation techniques—which many considered torture—were authorized for high-value detainees. These policies sparked intense legal battles that continued for years, raising fundamental questions about American values and constitutional principles during wartime. The response to 9/11 eventually expanded beyond Afghanistan. In 2003, the United States invaded Iraq, arguing that Saddam Hussein's regime possessed weapons of mass destruction and had links to al-Qaeda. Though both claims proved false, the Iraq War became intertwined with the broader War on Terror, consuming enormous resources and attention. This expansion of the conflict had profound consequences, including regional destabilization, the rise of new terrorist groups like ISIS, and growing skepticism about American intentions both domestically and internationally. The economic costs were staggering—by conservative estimates, the post-9/11 wars cost over $6 trillion when accounting for long-term veterans' care and interest on war debt.

Chapter 6: Long Shadows: Health Impacts and Ongoing Trauma

The physical health consequences of 9/11 continue to unfold decades after the attacks. When the Twin Towers collapsed, they released a toxic plume containing asbestos, lead, mercury, dioxins, pulverized concrete, and countless other hazardous substances. This toxic cloud settled over Lower Manhattan and beyond, contaminating homes, schools, and workplaces. In the chaotic aftermath, Environmental Protection Agency Administrator Christine Todd Whitman assured New Yorkers that "the air is safe to breathe"—a statement that would later be revealed as dangerously premature and influenced by political pressure to reopen Wall Street quickly. First responders and recovery workers were most severely affected by this toxic exposure. Without adequate respiratory protection, many inhaled dust and fumes for weeks or months during the recovery operation. The result has been a devastating array of respiratory conditions, including chronic cough, asthma, reduced lung function, and pulmonary fibrosis. More alarmingly, these workers have experienced elevated rates of rare cancers, including leukemia, lymphoma, and thyroid cancer. By 2021, more people had died from 9/11-related illnesses than perished on the day itself—a grim statistic that continues to grow. The struggle for medical recognition and compensation adds another layer to this tragedy. Initially, many responders found their illnesses dismissed or their workers' compensation claims denied. It took years of advocacy by responders, their families, and allies like comedian Jon Stewart to secure comprehensive healthcare and compensation. The James Zadroga 9/11 Health and Compensation Act, named for a police officer who died from respiratory disease in 2006, was finally passed in 2010 and later extended. The World Trade Center Health Program now monitors and treats over 100,000 responders and survivors, documenting the evolving health impacts of that single day. Beyond physical health, the psychological trauma of 9/11 created ripple effects that continue to shape individual lives and collective consciousness. Survivors who escaped the burning towers or Pentagon corridors often experience severe post-traumatic stress disorder, survivor's guilt, and other psychological effects. Brian Clark, who escaped from the 84th floor of the South Tower and helped others along the way, described feeling "haunted by the randomness of it all"—why he survived when so many colleagues did not. For first responders, the psychological burden is compounded by their repeated exposure to death and destruction during the rescue and recovery operations. The families of victims faced their own unique challenges. Many experienced what psychologists call "ambiguous loss"—grieving without the closure of a body to bury or clear knowledge of how their loved ones died. The identification process for remains continued for years, with families receiving notifications of newly identified fragments long after they had held memorial services. Children who lost parents on 9/11—approximately 3,000 of them—grew up in the shadow of both personal tragedy and national trauma, their private grief constantly intersecting with public commemoration. The psychological impact extends beyond those directly affected. Studies have documented increased rates of anxiety, depression, and substance abuse in the general population following the attacks, particularly among those who consumed extensive media coverage. The attacks fundamentally altered Americans' sense of security and vulnerability, creating what some psychologists call "cultural trauma"—a collective wound that shapes national identity and worldview. This shift manifests in countless ways, from increased suspicion of outsiders to heightened security consciousness in everyday life. Muslim Americans and those perceived to be Muslim experienced a different kind of aftermath. Hate crimes against these communities spiked 1,600% in 2001, according to FBI statistics. Many faced suspicion, discrimination, surveillance, and in some cases, violence. Despite this, Muslim American communities responded with increased civic engagement, interfaith dialogue, and public education efforts. Their experience highlights how the trauma of 9/11 was unevenly distributed, with some communities bearing additional burdens beyond the shared national grief.

Chapter 7: Twenty Years Later: Legacy and Lessons Learned

Two decades after the attacks, the legacy of 9/11 continues to evolve in American politics, culture, and national identity. The immediate unity that followed the attacks—captured in the bipartisan gathering on the Capitol steps where lawmakers spontaneously sang "God Bless America"—proved tragically short-lived. As the War on Terror expanded and domestic security measures grew more intrusive, political divisions reemerged and deepened. The initial consensus supporting military action in Afghanistan fractured over the Iraq War, with bitter debates about intelligence failures, strategic objectives, and the human costs of prolonged conflict. The killing of Osama bin Laden in May 2011 provided a measure of justice and closure for many Americans, yet it did not mark the end of the post-9/11 era. Terrorist threats evolved rather than disappeared, with al-Qaeda affiliates spreading across Africa and the Middle East, and new groups like ISIS emerging from the chaos of failed states. The chaotic American withdrawal from Afghanistan in August 2021, exactly twenty years after the attacks that precipitated the invasion, prompted soul-searching about what had been achieved at such enormous cost in lives and resources. The Taliban's return to power represented a sobering bookend to America's longest war. Domestically, the security apparatus established after 9/11 has become a permanent feature of American life. The Department of Homeland Security, created as a temporary response to an emergency, has evolved into one of the largest federal agencies. Airport security procedures that seemed extraordinary in 2002 are now routine for a generation that has never known anything different. Surveillance capabilities developed to track terrorists are now employed in ordinary law enforcement, raising ongoing questions about privacy and civil liberties in the digital age. These institutional changes represent perhaps the most tangible legacy of 9/11—the ways in which extraordinary measures became normalized as part of everyday American life. The economic impacts have been equally profound. Beyond the immediate costs of recovery and rebuilding, the post-9/11 wars in Afghanistan and Iraq cost between $4-6 trillion when accounting for long-term veterans' care and interest on war debt. Homeland security spending has exceeded $1 trillion since 2001. These massive expenditures represent opportunity costs—investments not made in education, infrastructure, healthcare, or addressing climate change. Some economists argue that this diversion of resources contributed to growing inequality and economic insecurity, fueling political polarization and populist movements on both left and right. For a generation born after 2001, 9/11 exists not as lived experience but as historical event—something they learn about in school alongside Pearl Harbor or the Kennedy assassination. Yet they live in a world profoundly shaped by its aftermath. They have grown up with endless war as background noise, with terrorism as a persistent if receding threat, with intensive security as normal rather than exceptional. Their worldview has been formed in a post-9/11 landscape where American power seems more limited, the international order more fragile, and the future more uncertain than it appeared in the optimistic decade following the Cold War's end. Perhaps the most important lesson of 9/11 lies in understanding how societies respond to trauma and threat. The attacks revealed both America's vulnerabilities and its resilience—its capacity for both overreaction and adaptation. They demonstrated how a single day of violence can transform national priorities and redirect historical trajectories. Most importantly, they showed how the choices made in the aftermath of attacks—which values to preserve, which to compromise, and how to balance immediate security with long-term principles—ultimately matter more than the attacks themselves. By examining these choices with the perspective that twenty years provides, we can better prepare for future challenges while preserving the open, pluralistic society that terrorists sought to undermine.

Summary

The story of September 11th reveals a profound tension at the heart of modern civilization: the vulnerability of open societies to asymmetric threats. The attacks exploited fundamental features of globalization—international travel, information technology, financial networks, and media connectivity—to transform ordinary civilian infrastructure into weapons of mass destruction. This vulnerability paradox continues to challenge democratic societies that must balance security with the openness that defines their character. The events of 9/11 demonstrated how a non-state actor with limited resources could leverage these contradictions to inflict harm disproportionate to its size and capabilities, forcing a superpower to reorganize its entire security apparatus and foreign policy. The legacy of 9/11 offers critical lessons for navigating an increasingly complex world. First, resilience must be built into both physical and social infrastructure—the remarkable evacuation of thousands from the Twin Towers and the rapid recovery of the Pentagon demonstrate how thoughtful design and preparation save lives. Second, the most effective responses to catastrophe often emerge from the bottom up rather than the top down—from the passenger revolt on Flight 93 to the spontaneous boat evacuation of Manhattan, ordinary citizens proved capable of extraordinary actions when empowered to act. Finally, how societies respond to attacks ultimately matters more than the attacks themselves. The choices made in the aftermath—which values to preserve, which to compromise, and how to balance immediate security with long-term principles—shape the true historical significance of such events. By understanding these dynamics, we can better prepare for future challenges while preserving the open, pluralistic societies that terrorists seek to undermine.

About Author

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Mitchell Zuckoff

Mitchell Zuckoff is a professor of journalism at Boston University. He is the author of the New York Times bestsellers "Fall and Rise," "13 Hours," "Lost in Shangri-La," and "Frozen in Time." His previous books are: "Robert Altman: The Oral Biography," one of Amazon.com's "Best Books of 2009"; "Ponzi's Scheme," and "Choosing Naia." He is co-author of "Judgment Ridge," which was a finalist for the Edgar Award.Zuckoff's magazine work has appeared in The New Yorker, Fortune, and other national and regional publications. He is a former special projects reporter for The Boston Globe, where he was a Pulitzer Prize finalist for investigative reporting as a member of the Spotlight Team. He received the Distinguished Writing Award from the American Society of Newspaper Editors, the Livingston Award for International Reporting, the Heywood Broun Award, and the Associated Press Managing Editors' Public Service Award, among other national honors. He lives outside Boston.

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