The Man in the Red Bandana Finally Gets His Medal — But What Took 25 Years?

On a Friday afternoon in Rockland County, New York, President Donald Trump stood beside Rep. Mike Lawler and Alison Crowther — the mother of a man most Americans know only by his accessory — and announced that Welles Remy Crowther would posthumously receive the Presidential Medal of Freedom, the nation's highest civilian honor [1]. The announcement came nearly 25 years after Crowther, an equities trader and volunteer firefighter, repeatedly climbed back into the smoke-filled floors of the World Trade Center's South Tower, guiding strangers to safety while wearing a red bandana over his face [2].

Alison Crowther addressed the crowd, calling the award a "huge honor" [1]. But the moment also carries a weight that extends far beyond one family's grief and recognition. It lands in the middle of ongoing battles over 9/11 healthcare funding, questions about how presidential honors are selected, and the persistent gap between how America remembers September 11 and how it treats those still living with its consequences.

Who Was Welles Crowther?

Welles Remy Crowther was born on May 17, 1977, in Upper Nyack, New York. He played lacrosse at Boston College and, at 16, joined his father as a volunteer firefighter at the Empire Hook and Ladder Company in Nyack [3]. After college, he took a job as an equities trader at Sandler O'Neill & Partners on the 104th floor of the South Tower [3].

On the morning of September 11, 2001, Crowther was at his desk when United Airlines Flight 175 struck the South Tower between floors 77 and 85 at 9:03 a.m. What happened next was pieced together over months from survivor testimony [4].

Crowther made his way down to the 78th-floor sky lobby — one of the building's transfer points — where he found a group of injured and disoriented survivors. With a red bandana pulled over his nose and mouth, he began directing people toward a functioning stairwell. Survivor Judy Wein, an Aon Corp. employee who had been working on the 103rd floor and suffered a broken arm, cracked ribs, and a punctured lung, later recalled Crowther helping put out fires and administering first aid before leading her group to safety [3][4].

Crowther made at least three trips back up to the sky lobby, each time returning to guide more people down [2]. He was last seen heading upward alongside FDNY firefighters before the South Tower collapsed at 9:59 a.m. [3]. His body was found in March 2002 in the South Tower lobby, alongside several firefighters and emergency workers at what appeared to be a command post [3].

Of the 18 people who escaped from above the 78th floor of the South Tower, at least 10 have directly credited Crowther with saving their lives [5].

How He Was Identified

For months after September 11, the Crowther family knew only that Welles had made a final phone call to his mother that morning. They did not know what he had done after hanging up [3].

In May 2002, Alison Crowther read a firsthand account in The New York Times by Judy Wein, who described being rescued by an unknown young man wearing a red bandana. Alison recognized the detail immediately — Welles had carried a red bandana since childhood, a habit inherited from his father. She contacted Wein and other survivors, who confirmed his identity through photographs [3][5].

The red bandana became the symbol through which the public came to know Crowther. "With this red bandana, I'm going to change the world," Crowther once told a friend who asked about it [5].

The Medal and Why It Took 25 Years

The Presidential Medal of Freedom has been awarded roughly 673 times since President Kennedy established it in 1963 [6]. Posthumous awards have been a regular feature: Kennedy himself received one weeks after his assassination, Martin Luther King Jr. was honored nine years after his murder, and the three civil rights workers killed in Mississippi in 1964 — James Chaney, Andrew Goodman, and Michael Schwerner — waited 50 years for theirs [6][7].

Source: Wikipedia / Congress.gov

Data as of May 22, 2026CSV

Crowther's 25-year gap falls squarely within this range. But unlike some posthumous recipients, Crowther's story was not obscure. He was named an honorary FDNY firefighter in 2006 [3]. A 2017 documentary, Man in Red Bandana, narrated by Gwyneth Paltrow, told his story [8]. Boston College holds an annual Red Bandanna Run in his memory [9]. His heroism was widely reported in major media on every significant 9/11 anniversary.

So why did no prior president act? The answer lies partly in the medal's selection process. There is no formal nomination procedure. The president has sole discretion to award it to "any person who has made an especially meritorious contribution to the security or national interests of the United States, world peace, or cultural or other significant public or private endeavors" [6][7]. Recipients are typically chosen based on recommendations from White House staff, advisors, and Cabinet members, though members of the public and Congress can also suggest names [7].

The direct catalyst for Crowther's award was Rep. Mike Lawler (R-NY), who represents the congressional district that includes Crowther's hometown of Nyack. On September 12, 2025, Lawler held a press conference at the Empire Hook and Ladder Company — Crowther's old firehouse — calling on President Trump to award the medal ahead of the 25th anniversary of September 11 [10]. The same day, Lawler presented Trump with a red bandana from the Crowther family during a Yankees game [10]. Lawler also introduced legislation seeking a Congressional Gold Medal for Crowther [10].

The effort was bipartisan in spirit if not in formal co-sponsorship. "Heroism doesn't come from rank or title, but from choices we make in hardest moments," Lawler said at the Nyack press conference [10].

The 9/11 Heroes Medal of Valor — And the Limits of Recognition

Crowther already held one federal honor. The 9/11 Heroes Medal of Valor, created to recognize the 442 public safety officers killed on September 11, was presented to families by President George W. Bush in 2005 [11]. In 2018, President Trump signed legislation expanding eligibility to include first responders who later died from World Trade Center-related illnesses [11].

But the Medal of Valor and the Medal of Freedom serve different purposes. The former is a categorical honor for public safety officers killed in the line of duty. The latter is a discretionary presidential award that singles out individuals for extraordinary merit. No formal criteria determine which 9/11 figures qualify for the Medal of Freedom; it depends entirely on whether a president chooses to bestow it [7].

This raises a question advocates have posed for years: are there other 9/11 figures whose actions merit equivalent recognition? Crowther was not the only civilian who acted heroically that day. Rick Rescorla, the Morgan Stanley security director who shepherded roughly 2,700 employees out of the South Tower before dying in the collapse, has been the subject of similar advocacy campaigns. Orio Palmer and Ronald Bucca, FDNY members who reached the 78th floor of the South Tower — the highest confirmed point any firefighter reached — are celebrated within the fire service but have not received the Medal of Freedom [3].

The discretionary nature of the award means recognition depends on advocacy, political timing, and presidential attention rather than any systematic evaluation of heroism.

Symbols vs. Substance: The Healthcare Fight

The medal announcement arrived during a period of acute tension over how the federal government supports 9/11 survivors materially, not just symbolically.

The World Trade Center Health Program, established under the James Zadroga 9/11 Health and Compensation Act of 2010, provides medical monitoring and treatment to more than 135,000 enrolled responders and survivors [12]. More than 63,000 of them have developed at least one certified medical condition. Cancer diagnoses among enrollees have reached 48,579, a 143% increase over five years [13].

Source: CDC World Trade Center Health Program

Data as of Mar 31, 2026CSV

At least 4,627 program members have died since 9/11 — a figure that now substantially exceeds the original attack death toll of 2,977 [13].

In early 2025, the program faced a crisis when the Department of Government Efficiency (DOGE) cut WTC Health Program staff and terminated research grants as part of broader federal workforce reductions. HHS Secretary Robert F. Kennedy Jr. and DOGE fired NIOSH Director John Howard, who also served as WTC Health Program Administrator, along with program staff and supporting CDC employees [14]. Senators Chuck Schumer and Kirsten Gillibrand called the cuts "disrespectful to 9/11 survivors and first responders everywhere" and demanded immediate reinstatement [14].

The backlash prompted a reversal. In February 2026, a bipartisan provision in the Consolidated Appropriations Act fixed the program's funding formula, averting a projected $3 billion shortfall over the next decade and securing funding through 2040 [12]. President Trump signed the bill on February 3, 2026 [12].

But advocates say the funding fix, while critical, does not erase the pattern of having to fight for resources that were supposed to be guaranteed. "The one thing we were able to fall back on was people wouldn't forget, and they would always stand beside us," James Brosi, president of the Uniformed Fire Officers Association, said. "Unfortunately, twenty-some-odd years later, people are starting to forget. It is unimaginable that we would have to come down here and ask Congress to do the right thing" [15].

The juxtaposition is pointed: in May 2026, the same administration that cut WTC Health Program staff in 2025 bestowed the nation's highest civilian honor on a 9/11 hero. Whether these actions are contradictory or complementary depends on whom you ask.

The Politics of Timing

Skeptics have questioned whether the medal's timing — announced at a political rally in a competitive New York congressional district — reflects genuine presidential initiative or political calculation. The announcement came at a Rockland County event with Lawler, who faces competitive reelection cycles in a swing district that Trump has sought to shore up [1].

Defenders counter that the timing is dictated by the approaching 25th anniversary of September 11, which makes 2026 a natural moment for such recognition. Lawler's advocacy began in September 2025, and the Crowther family has actively supported the effort [10]. Alison Crowther's presence at the rally and her public remarks suggest the family views the award as genuine, not performative [1].

The broader context matters, too. Presidents of both parties have used Medal of Freedom ceremonies for political signaling. President Obama awarded the medal to political allies and cultural figures aligned with his administration's values. President Biden's final ceremony included prominent Democratic supporters. Trump's previous Medal of Freedom recipients have included political allies like Rep. Jim Jordan and media figure Rush Limbaugh [6]. Crowther's award stands apart from these patterns — it is difficult to frame a dead 24-year-old volunteer firefighter as a partisan figure.

What Comes Next

Lawler's Congressional Gold Medal legislation for Crowther remains pending [10]. If passed, it would make Crowther one of a small number of individuals to receive both honors. The bill's prospects depend on whether it can attract the two-thirds supermajority required in both chambers.

The award also spotlights unfinished business in how the federal government categorizes and honors 9/11 heroism. The 442 public safety officers who died on September 11 are recognized under the Medal of Valor. Civilians like Crowther who performed acts of extraordinary heroism exist in a different category — one with no systematic pathway to recognition. Their stories depend on family persistence, media attention, and the willingness of individual members of Congress to champion their cause.

Welles Crowther carried a red bandana every day of his adult life. On the morning he died, it became the only way strangers could describe the man who saved them. Twenty-five years later, a president put a name to what the bandana always stood for. Whether that recognition arrives as a meaningful act of national memory or a belated formality depends on what the country does next — not just for Crowther's legacy, but for the tens of thousands of people still living with the consequences of the day he died.