Bold opening: A father hunted the ruins for his son for six months—and decades later, the same search claimed his life. This is the story of Jim Riches, a man who turned grief into unyielding action and left a lasting imprint on how we remember 9/11 and its survivors.
New York, September 11, 2001. As the second World Trade Center tower collapsed, James “Jim” Riches, a Battalion Chief with the New York City Fire Department, hurried toward Ground Zero. His eldest son, Jimmy Jr., a firefighter with Ladder 114 in Brooklyn’s Sunset Park, was among the first responders that morning, assisting victims in the North Tower’s lobby. Jimmy Jr. was last seen carrying an injured woman from the building’s interior.
Rather than celebrate the next day’s anticipated milestone—his son’s 30th birthday—Riches spent the next six months combing through twisted steel and ash, risking his own safety to find the son who had followed in his footsteps. Jimmy Jr. would become one of the 343 firefighters who perished on 9/11. When the towers fell, a toxic plume enveloped lower Manhattan and parts of Brooklyn, a consequence later documented by the Centers for Disease Control and Prevention.
"He was there every day to find his son," recalled Richard Browers, a retired FDNY lieutenant and former president of the Uniformed Fire Officers Association. Riches’ quest concluded in March 2002, when the crushed helmet bearing Ladder 114’s number was uncovered in the North Tower’s rubble, with Jimmy Jr.’s body found nearby.
Fourteen months after Jimmy Jr.’s death, Riches faced a different battle: the long-term health effects of inhaling Ground Zero toxins. In 2005, he suffered acute respiratory distress syndrome (ARDS) and was hospitalized in a coma for 16 days. Though he survived, his lung capacity never fully recovered. His son Thomas later described how his father could no longer catch his breath, yet continued to advocate for those affected by the disaster’s aftermath.
Riches’ life was defined by service. He joined the FDNY in 1977, earning the nickname “Big Daddy” for always having at least one of his sons by his side. Jimmy Jr., who had also served with the NYPD, joined the FDNY in 1999. His three younger brothers—Timothy, Danny, and Thomas—would all pursue firefighting careers as well.
After Jimmy Jr.’s remains were recovered, Riches and his sons carried him from Ground Zero, laying him on a stretcher wrapped in an American flag as colleagues saluted. Riches later described how a team of responders had themselves crawled on hands and knees to search the wreckage.
Even as the search ended in May 2002, Riches stayed at Ground Zero, driven to aid other families and bring some measure of closure to a city in mourning. He spent the next two decades warning about health risks faced by first responders, writing letters, testifying to lawmakers, and advocating for support and research.
Riches rose through the ranks to deputy chief, the pinnacle of FDNY leadership achievable without a formal city appointment. He remained a dominant figure in both sports and public life—an accomplished athlete and a devoted family man who attended his sons’ games and coached with energy and pride.
Dedicated to survivors, Riches chaired 9/11 Families and Parents of Firefighters and WTC Victims, a role that furthered important reforms. His work helped establish the World Trade Center Health Program and the 9/11 Victim Compensation Fund. He spoke before Congress, met with the Obama administration, and even traveled to Guantánamo Bay to advocate for families during trials related to the attacks.
Locally, Riches didn’t shy away from challenging officials. He publicly criticized then–Mayor Rudy Giuliani for politicizing the tragedy and for outdated equipment that hindered communication during emergencies. When the 9/11 Memorial Museum opened in 2014, Riches attended not to celebrate but to express concern about its commercialization and the museum’s limited support for survivors and families of victims.
Riches’ legacy extended far beyond his titles. Colleagues remember him as a larger-than-life, family-centered leader who made time for every one of his sons’ sports events. In the words of Thomas Riches, his son, he set a tone that inspired others in the fire service. The Dyker Heights neighborhood in Brooklyn honors Jimmy Jr. with a street name in his memory, and scholarships fund his name to keep his memory alive. Riches’ advocacy touched countless lives and ensured ongoing attention to those affected by 9/11 and its aftermath.
Jim Riches’ funeral, held December 1 at St. Patrick Roman Catholic Church in Bay Ridge, drew mourners from across the city, despite pouring rain. The procession outside mirrored the respect and appreciation felt by many in the FDNY and the communities they serve.
The story of Jim Riches is a testimony to endurance, grief transformed into action, and a community’s commitment to remembrance and aid for those touched by tragedy. For more information about health issues associated with World Trade Center exposure and the related support programs, you can refer to the CDC’s World Trade Center resources and the Victim Compensation Fund.