'Paulie's Push': Never Has An Airline Beverage Cart Delivered More Needed Service

NEW ROCHELLE, NY — As he nears his final mile on his journey from Boston to Ground Zero, Paul "Paulie" Veneto a retired United Airlines flight attendant, has seemingly endless energy — especially where it really counts.

As people come up to him on Main Street in New Rochelle to share their losses, smile about their health victories in their battles with 9/11 diseases, or sometimes to just to tell him that what he is doing means everything to them, Veneto breaks his impressive pace to offer handshakes, and sometimes hugs. And he listens.

The 67-year-old retiree who started his journey with a goal, in part, of making sure the heroics, and sacrifices of onboard the doomed flights of September 11, 2002 would be remembered, never rushes those who come to share their stories, and take pictures of his symbolic "flight."

In many ways, those who waited on the roadside for a moment with Veneto leave feeling that they shared in his remarkable achievement.

A light breeze, clear skies, and well withers greeted Veneto in New Rochelle, but he admits that his path on US 1 from Boston to New York City can sometimes feel at little more isolated, when the weather is less cooperative and scenery more rural.

At times, Veneto will have an extra beverage cart, up to four on hand, so that community members can join him on the push. At other times he pushes a lone cart.

Today, however, he is greeted with fanfare as he makes an unscheduled stop at New Rochelle Fire Department Station 1. On this day, just a few miles from Ground Zero, all five carts will be needed.

Veneto has pushed his airline beverage cart more than 750 miles along routes symbolizing the flight paths of the four aircraft hijacked on 9/11.

In 2021 he pushed from Boston-Logan to Ground Zero in Manhattan. In 2022 he pushed from Washington-Dulles to the Pentagon for American Flight 77. In 2023 he pushed from Newark-Liberty to the National Flight 93 Memorial in Shanksville. And in 2024 he pushed from the Boston Public Garden 9/11 Contemplative Garden to Ground Zero for American 11.

On Aug. 15, he started his final "Push to Ground Zero." When the cart reaches Ground Zero, it will have been pushed over 1,000 miles in honor of the flight crews, what he refers to as the "first, first responders" that fateful day.

As he speaks to the firefighters gathered at the city's largest firehouse, Veneto's boundless energy and compassion is never more evident.

His words for the New Rochelle police and firefighters gathered to honor the moment, are not wrote or practiced. His voice breaks as he recalls the friends and frequent coworkers he lost on a day nearly 25 years ago.

Veneto explained that on the day of the attacks, he had the day off from his regularly scheduled flight — United Flight 175, which was hijacked and flown into the South Tower. As a way of honoring his coworkers, he displayed their photos on his crew bags until his retirement. The reaction of travelers and crew mates led to this moment, he said.

"In the days after 9/11, we came together as a country in a way we haven't really seen since," Veneto told the first responders. "Do you remember that? It was an amazing time. For a brief period we all were one. Each year of this, I've gotten to see a glimmer of that again. It gives me hope."

Before sunset Vento will be in the Bronx, but when he leaves the firehouse to he will do so with a motorcade of fire engines and police cars.

And all five carts would be pressed into service, as the retired airline worker makes his way towards the place that changed the course of the lives of everyone present.

"Paulie's Push began as a tribute, but it's since turned into a movement," Veneto said. "We've been able to bring something to people affected by 9/11 who, I hope, might get healing from what we're doing."

Sometimes it's a report's dumbest questions that can get the best response. As I jogged to keep up with Veneto's impressive pace, I could have asked him about the moment terror visited his workplace, or about the families that benefit from his fundraising, or about the deeply personal meaning of the push, or the volunteers that support him behind the scenes. Instead, my mind was on logistics. I asked if his airline catering cart was modified to withstand the journey in often less than ideal conditions.

"No, this is exactly what is used on the planes," Veneto explained patiently, pointing to the plastic casters. "People sometimes ask me why I don't put [air-filled] wheels on. But the crews didn't have it easy that day, why should I?"

Without breaking stride Veneto points to the photographs of his colleagues who died on four aircraft that day.

"I don't want it to be easy," he said quietly. "I want to honor what they did that day. I want to be reminded. And I want to remind us all."

It was dumb question, but in that moment, it was easy to see the men and women who were the very first to put there own fears aside in a effort to save lives and to offer comfort to those they were duty-bound to watch over.

You can help support Paulie's Push here.