Mike Callan, a Steelers fan who recently retired after working 30 years for FDNY, smiles with wife, Stacy, and daughters, Madison and Avery, at a Steelers game.
Mike Callan, a Steelers fan who recently retired after working 30 years for FDNY, smiles with wife, Stacy, and daughters, Madison and Avery, at a Steelers game.
Callan, a 30-year FDNY vet, was spurred on by a sense of duty when he started at Ground Zero on Sept. 13, 2001
Twenty-five years later, the excruciating memories remain crystal clear for Mike Callan.
The dust and smoke. The pockets of fire. The twisted steel and scattered human remains.
For 30 straight days following 9/11, Callan arrived in lower Manhattan by 6 a.m. and spent the next 12 hours digging through unimaginable horrors at Ground Zero, doing what he could to help clean up the mess.
The Long Island native would return home after dark, somehow get to sleep then wake up again at 3:30 a.m., physically and emotionally exhausted but compelled by a sense of duty.
[Pittsburgh Steelers fans react to President Bush's address to the nation shown on the Hienz Field Jumbotron during halftime Sunday Oct. 7, 2001, in Pittsburgh. The Steelers and the Bengals faced off to open the Steelers home season in front of the largest football crowd in Steelers history, 62,335
Pittsburgh Steelers fans react to President Bush's address to the nation shown on the Hienz Field Jumbotron during halftime Sunday Oct. 7, 2001, in Pittsburgh. The Steelers and the Bengals faced off to open the Steelers home season in front of the largest football crowd in Steelers history, 62,335](https://www.post-gazette.com/news/sept11/2026/09/08/sept11-impact-pittsburgh-sports/stories/202609070001)
Of all the unimaginable horrors he encountered, what he remembers most vividly is the smell.
“I’ll never forget it,” Callan said this week on a video call. “It was death. It smelled like death, like rotting flesh. That’s what the whole place, to me, smelled like.”
Callan’s efforts after the Sept. 11, 2001, terrorist attacks and throughout the rest of his firefighting career are why he’s seen as a hero. But that toxic, putrid air he ingested over those 30 days is why he’s no longer able to do the job he loves.
Callan retired in December due to lingering health complications he sustained at Ground Zero. His life today is different than it was for the past three decades — except for Sundays in the fall.
“Sundays or Mondays are sacred for the Steelers in this household,” Mike’s wife, Stacy, said. “I can show you Mike’s calendar. We are not allowed to book any function if it’s in conflict with the game. It’s been that way forever.”
This upcoming Sunday has been circled on Callan’s calendar for quite some time.
This weekend, Mike and Stacy flew to Pittsburgh to meet their two daughters in their “favorite city” and attend Sunday’s game at Acrisure Stadium.
Mike and the girls savor every Steelers game day, but this one carries extra meaning.
At a time when much is changing in Mike’s life, this trip is to celebrate him.
The family business
Born and raised in New York, Callan grew up in a house filled with Giants fans. But the Steel Curtain and those black and gold uniforms drew him to the Steelers.
“I might be the black sheep of sorts,” he said with a smile.
Football fandom is where most of the differences end when it comes to the Callan men. Mike and his two brothers followed their father’s footsteps to the New York Fire Department, dedicating decades of their lives to helping others.
Mike was home on the morning of Sept. 11, 2001, studying for the lieutenant’s test. His firstborn, Madison, was just a year old, napping peacefully in the next room over. The phone started ringing — and it didn’t stop.
“I tried to ignore it at first,” Mike said, “but after about four or five calls, I figured something was up.”
It was a friend from the firehouse. Mike turned on the news and saw the World Trade Center’s north tower engulfed in flames. He immediately thought of his father.
As a citywide tour commander, Joe Callan was responsible for handling multiple-alarm emergencies across the five boroughs of New York.
“He’s there,” Mike kept thinking. “He’s absolutely there.”
He was on the phone with his younger brother, Chris, when the first tower collapsed. They assumed the worst.
Mike was working out of a firehouse in Brooklyn at that point in his career. He remembers driving 60-plus miles toward the billowing black smoke that filled the blue sky.
After Mike arrived at the firehouse, a colleague shared the news.
“I heard your father’s voice on the radio, the handy talky,” Mike was told, “He’s alive.”
Mike and Chris spent the rest of the day trying to locate him. They were told he had been sent to a hospital but later learned he was at FDNY headquarters in Brooklyn.
That night, they found him sitting distraught in an office, covered in dust and ash. Quiet at first, Joe eventually shared he had been tasked with leading the evacuation of the north tower. The south tower was the first to go down, killing hundreds — including many firefighters. Joe escaped the north tower just before it collapsed 29 minutes later, diving behind a car to shield himself from falling debris.
On the drive home, Joe estimated hundreds of firefighters had died and recognized the cleanup effort would take months.
Mike walked in his front door around 2 a.m. He felt blessed he, along with his father and two brothers, were still alive. But he knew challenging times were ahead.
‘Just had a job to do’
The next morning, Mike volunteered to help with the cleanup effort. He started Sept. 13.
He hoped to assist in a rescue, but by then, there was no one left to save.
“Just a lot of death and destruction,” Callan said. “Just an awful time.”
With the city in pieces, Callan and his fellow volunteers had to take a water shuttle over from Queens. They’d receive an assignment each morning, and every assignment felt the same.
Twelve hours on a pile, digging through “whatever it might be.” The horror never seemed to end.
Countless small fires still burned. Inside the thick clouds of smoke and dust were mountains of debris filled with “pieces of people,” Callan said. They needed to be recovered in order to identify the deceased.
There was plenty of time to think.
Callan mourned the 343 firefighters who died on Sept. 11. Had circumstances been different, he could have been one of them.
He felt lingering disappointment over not being able to save any lives.
And as the days turned to weeks, he thought about the toll the cleanup effort was taking on all involved — most notably the impact it could have on their lungs.
“Guys would wonder if this was safe because it didn’t seem like it would be,” Callan said. “We knew there had to be a lot of bad stuff in these buildings.”
Some days, it was difficult to breathe. Stacy recalls Mike coughing up “thick, black stuff” before bed. The worries were warranted. But it also felt like there was no other option.
“We just had a job to do,” Mike said. “That’s just what it was.”
Like many, Mike used sports to escape reality. He appreciated having the Steelers as a distraction after 9/11, even if it was just getting upset over Kordell Stewart’s play.
Callan first experienced lung issues in 2011. He was diagnosed with sinusitis and gastroesophageal reflux disease. A decade later, things started to get worse — and fast.
He was in great shape for his age, having run multiple marathons. But tasks became more and more challenging. He was diagnosed with asthma and sleep apnea. He had been around plenty of fires throughout his career, but they knew where this all came from.
Being around any sort of smoke had become unbearable. He’d cough uncontrollably after fire calls, sometimes for the next two or three days. So he spent a year away from the firehouse.
He attempted to return to his old routine in 2022, but the health issues persisted. Last December, he formally retired on disability due to his breathing issues. His final rank was battalion chief. He accumulated just over 30 years of service with the FDNY.
A special Steelers send-off
Many kids look up to their parents, but Madison and Avery Callan carry an extra sense of pride knowing what their father has done for so many.
“It’s really hard to put into words,” Madison said. “He’s not just our hero. My dad is a hero to millions.”
They also understand even heroes need something to lean on. For Mike, there were a few things — family, the firehouse community and, of course, the Steelers.
His earliest memories of being a fan date back to Super Bowl X, when he watched his favorite player, Lynn Swann, steal the show. He remembers the thrill that came as a teen and young adult whenever the Steelers played during prime time, knowing he would be able to tune in from New York.
As his daughters got older, Steelers games became a family tradition in the Callan household.
Among his daughters’ happiest memories are Super Bowl parties, birthday trips to Heinz Field and simply watching from home with their dad while Stacy provided the snacks.
“We never flipped to another game,” Avery said. “We wouldn’t leave the couch. We all had our assigned seats and our Steelers gear on. It was like that every Sunday.”
The girls grew up, graduated from college and are now living out of state. The Callan family has watched the Steelers together only a few times over the last eight years. Their family group chat is active every Sunday, but it’s not the same.
This Sunday afternoon in Pittsburgh should feel like the old days.
The Callan family will be together this weekend to celebrate Mike’s retirement with Steelers tickets for the AFC North clash against the Cincinnati Bengals. Needless to say, this trip is something Mike has been looking forward to for a while.
“It means the world to me,” Mike said.
Mike has plenty of time on his hands. He hoped retired life would improve his golf game but says, “It hasn’t happened yet.”
He’s on four medications to help with his breathing. His lung capacity is around 55%, he learned at his last checkup.
That said, he’s staying positive as he searches for what’s next. He doesn’t anticipate getting another job, but more volunteer work could be on horizon. At 55, Callan knows he has time to figure things out.
Meanwhile, those who love him will continue celebrating what he’s already achieved. This Sunday, they’ll be doing so in a place where he’s always happy to be.
“We’re his biggest fans,” Stacy said. “We love him so much and appreciate everything he’s done. We want him to know that we all love him. He deserves this special day.”
First Published: September 25, 2026, 9:00 a.m.