Staff Reports
President Donald Trump used a 9/11 commemoration to do something right: he posthumously awarded the Presidential Medal of Freedom to Welles Remy Crowther, the “Man in the Red Bandanna.” Crowther’s mother and sister accepted the medal on his behalf as the country paused to remember the 25th anniversary of the attacks. The moment reminded us that heroism sometimes happens off the battlefield and out of uniform.
The White House Honor: A Medal for the Man in the Red Bandanna
At the Ellipse ceremony tied to the 9/11 anniversary, President Donald Trump presented the nation’s highest civilian honor to Welles Crowther. Alison Crowther and Paige Crowther Charbonneau stood in for a son and brother who gave his life guiding others down from the South Tower while wearing that red bandanna. The president even quipped that “the Man in the Red Bandanna has become more famous than me. I don’t like it,” a line that the press immediately treated like breaking news. Whatever you think of the joke, the fact remains: a brave young man’s selfless act was finally recognized at the highest level.
Civilian Courage Deserves Its Spotlight
Welles Crowther was not a soldier in uniform. He was a volunteer firefighter and a civilian trader who chose to walk back up into danger to help others. Survivors credit him with saving a dozen or more lives. Honoring him with the Presidential Medal of Freedom spotlights the truth too few remember: courage doesn’t come with a uniform or a title. Schools, memorials, and Boston College’s Red Bandanna traditions keep his story alive for new generations — and that education matters more than another round of hot takes from commentators.
The Politics of Commemoration
Of course, politics followed the ceremony. The media parsed the president’s tone and pundits mined headlines. Congressman Mike Lawler and others had pushed for Crowther’s recognition for months, and that bipartisan push deserves credit. Still, it’s telling that critics would rather debate a one‑line quip than honor the sacrifice of someone who ran toward people in a burning tower. If we let political theater drown out civic gratitude, we lose the point of remembrance altogether.
What We Should Do Next
Let this award do more than score political points. Use it to teach young people about courage, to support the Crowther family’s work, and to preserve the red bandanna in memory and in classrooms. Remembering Welles Crowther is simple: celebrate civilian bravery, defend civic virtue, and refuse to let partisan squabbles turn a solemn moment into a spectacle. Courage doesn’t wear a uniform — sometimes it wears a red bandanna, and it deserves our thanks, not our hashtags.
