Stadium steps at dawn, a campus of remembrance
At 7:00 a.m., Joan C. Edwards Stadium filled with the steady rhythm of footsteps. Students, staff, and community members climbed 2,200 steps in a Memorial Stair Challenge meant to echo the grueling climb first responders made inside the World Trade Center on September 11, 2001. There was no finish-line ribbon, no loud music—just quiet determination and a simple point: remember the work, remember the courage.
Marshall University set the tone early on Thursday, September 11, 2025, marking the 24th anniversary of the attacks with a full day of service and reflection. The schedule was straightforward and purposeful—move, gather, honor—bringing the campus and local community together around a shared act of remembrance.
The step count wasn’t random. Climbers aimed for 2,200 steps, a symbolic stand-in for the 110 floors of the Twin Towers and the vertical grind firefighters and officers faced as they ran toward danger. Many events across the country use that number to connect a physical challenge to a historical reality. The symbolism did the heavy lifting here, not theatrics.
By mid-morning, the focus shifted from the stadium to the Memorial Student Center. The Don Morris Room hosted a Hero’s Breakfast from 9:00 to 10:30 a.m., with pancakes and bacon served to local first responders and veterans. The food mattered, but the handshake lines mattered more. The program included brief remarks and moments of reflection, underscoring why these simple rituals endure year after year.
Then came the walk. At 10:30 a.m., the Tribute Walk set off from the Memorial Student Center, ending with the unveiling of a memorial plaque and bench honoring Dr. Paul Ambrose, a Marshall alumnus who died aboard American Airlines Flight 77 when it struck the Pentagon at 9:37 a.m. on September 11, 2001. The ceremony took a big story—national trauma—and landed it close to home.
- 7:00 a.m.: Memorial Stair Challenge at Joan C. Edwards Stadium
- 9:00–10:30 a.m.: Hero’s Breakfast for first responders and veterans in the Don Morris Room
- 10:30–11:00 a.m.: Tribute Walk and unveiling of the Dr. Paul Ambrose memorial plaque and bench beginning at the Memorial Student Center
These events sit within a broader tradition. Each year, communities and campuses recognize September 11 as a national day of service and remembrance. Marshall’s framing—“9/11 Days of Service”—leans into that theme. Service, not spectacle. The aim is to turn memory into something active, measured in steps climbed, meals shared, and names spoken.
Paul Ambrose’s legacy and a campus promise
For Marshall, the name most often spoken is Paul Ambrose. He was a physician and a son of West Virginia, an alumnus of the university and its school of medicine, and a rising voice in preventive medicine and public health policy. In Washington, he worked on initiatives to improve nutrition and prevent chronic disease. On September 11, 2001, he boarded Flight 77 bound for the West Coast, where he planned to speak about confronting childhood obesity. He never arrived.
The plaque and bench unveiled Thursday add a quiet physical marker to a legacy that already runs through Marshall’s story. The memorial sits as an invitation to sit, read, and learn what Ambrose stood for—evidence-based prevention, community health, and service to others. Around the country, his name lives on in public health training and mentorship programs that push young professionals to tie policy to everyday health outcomes.
Remembering the dead is part of any 9/11 observance. Honoring those who served is the other half. The Hero’s Breakfast made space for firefighters, police officers, paramedics, and veterans, acknowledging the thousands who answered calls on day one and in the years after. The numbers tell their own stark story: hundreds of firefighters and law enforcement officers died in the response, and many more have faced long-term health effects since. The breakfast didn’t try to carry all that weight; it simply said thank you, face to face.
The stair challenge, meanwhile, offered a physical way in. You learn quickly that 2,200 steps are no joke. Participants moved at their own pace. Some carried small flags. Others climbed in silence. That mix is a feature, not a bug—an open door for people with different memories and different reasons for showing up.
Marshall’s approach also reflects how campuses have adapted remembrance over two decades. The message isn’t only about tragedy; it’s about responsibility. Students who were toddlers—or not yet born—in 2001 now lead these events. They inherit the story through rituals like this, which are easier to grasp than a lecture and more durable than a social post.
Local roots mattered throughout the day. Huntington-area first responders didn’t arrive as special guests so much as neighbors. The morning schedule kept things tight and close—stadium to student center to memorial spot—so the focus stayed on people, not on production. No long speeches. No overcomplicated staging. Just a clean line from remembrance to service.
That clarity extends to the event design. A day like this needs anchors. The stair climb is the physical anchor. The breakfast is the communal anchor. The memorial unveiling is the emotional anchor. Together, they make the observance more than a moment of silence. They make it a habit the campus can repeat, refine, and pass along.
The university framed the day around community impact, not just ceremony. While the schedule highlighted time and place, the core message was consistent: remember the victims; honor the responders and veterans; connect the past to present-day service. The campus environment—where learning and civic life overlap—makes that message stick.
Seen from a distance, events like these can look familiar. But up close, they gain texture. The stadium stairs at sunrise. The smell of pancakes in a room full of uniforms and Marshall green. The small crowd gathered around a new bench, reading a name and a date, and understanding what it means for this place.
Call it a calendar ritual or a civic habit. Either way, it’s deliberate. On a Thursday morning in Huntington, that habit was visible in every step climbed and every hand shaken. Marshall’s 9/11 Memorial programming didn’t try to do everything. It did enough, and it did it together.