Together at Ground Zero.

It's Sept. 12, 2001, one day after the terrorist attacks on New York City. Two BFFs -- l3-year-old Vanessa Cummins (left) and Jackie Magness, 12, decide to do something about it. They and their moms (also best friends) take a bus from their home in Clearwater, Fla., to Ground Zero, the site at which the World Trade Center towers once stood, now a disaster area. Here is their story, in their own words, plus the stories of how girls around the country are rallying to help a city -- and nation -- in need.

JACKIE: Immediately after we saw the attacks live on TV, Vanessa and I knew we had to do something. Then just a few hours later, our church contacted our families--Ground Zero needed volunteers, and members of the church were getting a bus together. Did we want to go? Yes! We hopped on the bus for a 14-hour ride to New York City. We had no idea what to expect. We arrived at a church near Times Square at 5 a.m. We went to the auditorium a d got photo IDs and yellow T-shirts with "Volunteer Minister" printed on them.

VANESSA: My T-shirt was an extra large. It didn't fit, but it didn't matter. We were totally tired from the bus trip. JACKIE: After a couple hours of sleep on the church floor, we woke up and ate a big breakfast, knowing might not have time to eat for a while. Our moms had already gone to Ground Zero. Suddenly, someone shouted, "Hurry up and finish your food. The van is here, and we need you to go to Ground Zero." A fireman was driving the van, and he looked at me and said, "Can you do it?" I said, "Yes." Oh, my God, I thought, I'm going to Ground Zero.

VANESSA: Jackie though maybe we should wait to see if anyone else from our church was around, but I said, "No, we're getting on this and were going." One of the men in the van told me his wife had been in one of the towers. He was a construction worker, and he was volunteering because he wanted to find her. "I want to g t something done," he said. I couldn't believe it. I felt my stomach lurch. All I could think was, "What if I were looking for a family member?" Suddenly, it was real.

JACKIE: When he said, "I'm looking for my wife," everything just hit me. I couldn't help but think of the thousands of people in the same situation.

VANESSA: As we got closer to Ground Zero, we went through five or six checkpoints. The military people guarding them had big guns. They let us through when they saw our yellow T-shirts.

JACKIE: Finally, we came to a gas station several blocks from Ground Zero. The van wasn't allowed any closer. We'd have to go the rest of the way on foot.

VANESSA: The van door opened, and the worst stench came over me. It was disgusting, like burning rubber and glass and this ashy-mushy odor. And it was coming from Ground Zero.

JACKIE: The gas station had become a drop-off point -- there were tons of food, water and supplies. Military people were walking around with construction guys. Army trucks kept going back and forth. Smoke was rising from the smoldering ruins of the World Trade Center.

VANESSA: About 10 minutes later, we walked up to this big building, Stuyvesant High School, about six or seven blocks from Ground Zero. There was trash all over the ground outside the school. When we opened the door, we saw hundreds of people inside -- soldiers patrolling, volunteers rushing around, policemen with bomb-sniffing dogs. There were cots for people who had been working in "the pit" (the pit is what they call the crater where the buildings fell). At Stuyvesant, the workers could grab a nap, get food and pick up new work boots (the sharp debris at Ground Zero shreds boots).

JACKIE: Vanessa and I saw hallways full of clothes and supplies --overalls, blue jeans, socks, long-sleeve shirts, tons of bandages and work gloves. The piles were like three feet tall and 10 feet wide and really unorganized. We worked really hard, sorting them so people could actually find what they needed. A guy in his early 20s worked alongside us. He talked to us about silly things, like the hemp necklace I was wearing. He said he had a hemp necklace that he wore for eight years. This was all he was able to talk about. He just didn't want to talk about Ground Zero.

VANESSA: Then we helped on "chains" -- human conveyor belts of people unloading food and supplies, handing them from one person to the next. Jackie and I unloaded an entire truck full of soda and juice. I got so tired, I was failing asleep standing up.

JACKIE: After working the chains, we were asked to go down to the epicenter of Ground Zero. As we approached the work site, there were tons of lights and even more smoke. Workmen were digging carefully through the rubble, steadying themselves as they worked against the shifting piles. There were tables and chairs and piles of debris people were carefully going through.

VANESSA: Because workers were still looking for survivors, they had to care-fully move whole sections of the building by hand. I watched as a group of men lifted a whole half of a wall. Unfortunately, the only thing underneath was thick smoke. We were asked to move back because of fear the building might fall even more. The day we were there, Ground Zero was still a search-and-rescue scene. Two days later, it was being called a crime scene.

JACKIE: The ground was like mud--inches of ashes and mush. You could hear firemen's mucky steps. It looked like paper mache dried on their boots. Late that night, when we walked back to the van to return to the church to sleep, we met a search-and-rescue worker named Miguel. His back was hurting so badly he could hardly walk. He needed help getting into our van. Somehow, we carried him out ourselves.

VANESSA: Miguel took off his big boots and heavy gloves. He told us he was there to help rescue people. But it seemed like there weren't a lot of people to rescue. He didn't want to talk too much about what he had seen because he was afraid we'd freak out. He could not believe two young girls from so far away would be willing to help New York. He took his construction gloves from his belt and handed them to me. He said, "These gloves are really special. I've saved people with these gloves. I want you to have them so you don't forget what you've done here." I can't even tell you how much that meant to me.

JACKIE: Before Ground Zero, I was kind of in my own world. All I thought about was homework, whether an outfit was cool enough or if a certain guy was going to be at the soccer game. After this, I know I need to help the world. When something big happens, people can help each other. And I can help.

VANESSA: To be at Ground Zero with Jackie was the most exhilarating experience I will ever have. Everyone donated their time and money--the whole country came together. That got me thinking. What if we did this on a daily basis? The world would be so good. It would be like the best place.

JACKIE: When it was time to go back to Florida, this lady got on our bus and said, "Thank you so much for all you've done." And I just started crying. I felt so happy. We were treated like real people, not just silly girls or kids.

VANESSA: Parents sometimes say to kids, "Well, you're only 13, so you can't do this or that...." But girls are so capable. I never realized I'd be able to do something like this. At Ground Zero, people treated everyone equally. No matter who you worked for, what rank, what age or gender or background, it didn't matter. You were-and always will be-considered a hero.

RELATED ARTICLE: CLASS ACT

The fifth-graders at Brown Street Academy in Milwaukee didn't want to just stand by and do nothing. "Some students came to my office and told me they wanted to start a penny drive for the victims," says Principal Linda Robinson. "They said, Even kindergarten kids can give pennies." But here's the remarkable thing -- 90 percent of the students at Brown Street Academy come from low-income families Despite their already tight budgets, they man-aged to collect over $1,000 in pennies (plus clothes and food) in just over a week. The penny drive helped the students turn a terrible tragedy into a source of pride. They were thanked for their donation by getting a trip to New York City, where they talked with firefighters and police officers. "We even got to shake hands with them," says one student. "We learned an important lesson -- even pennies can make a difference." -- Jennifer Park

SURVIVORS THEN... HELPING VICTIMS NOW

The three teens were kindergartners on their fist school trip to New York City, when a bomb planted beneath the World Trade Center exploded in 1993. Taina Rodriguez, now 14, was stuck in an elevator on the 78th floor for nearly eight hours before she and her classmates were rescued. Victor Alvarez, now 4 also, walked down 107 stories in the dark-a trip that took 12 hours. Victor's twin sister Veronica was in an elevator that made it safely to the ground. Watching the Twin Towers topple brought back a flood of memories for these teens-among the youngest survivors of the 1993 World Trade Center bombing. "What I remember most is the darkness and cold," says Victor, softly. "I still have that feeling inside me. It never goes a way." But it also compelled them to assemble red-white-and-blue pins to honor and raise money for the victims, "I can't go there and help, so this is the least I can do," says Taina. The cramped kitchen table in the Alvarez home has been transformed into an assembly line for creating $1 co mmemorative pins. Each ribbon in the pins, the teens explain, has a meaning. "The white is for all the families who lost loved ones," Taina adds. "And the blue is for the firefighters, police and all the people who have been working down there every day." At first, the teens hoped to raise $200. So far, they have raised $700 and have since increased their goal to $1,000. The money will be donated to the American Red Cross.

SISTER SUPPORT

"It's truly amazing how one small idea can turn into something so huge," says Ashley Welch, "It's rewarding to know we can do something." The Welch sisters of Alexandria Va.--Ashley, 16; Aubrey, 15; Alana, 14; and Alyssa, 10--first wanted to show their support by donating blood. Their reason was personal--their father Lt. Col Tracy Welch almost did not escape the Pentagon crash: "My Dad was getting ready to go to a meeting in the west wing of the Pentagon when the plane hit that very section"-says Aubrey. "We were so scared we realized how close we came to losing him. Because the girls aren't old enough to give blood a family friend suggested a car wash to raise money instead. The girls came up with a national car wash campaign called Wash America. They gathered up garden hoses, made posters handed out flyers, contacted local media, and asked friends and neighbors to suds up. "We even had 2-year-old kids holding up signs and waving flags," says Alyssa. They organized four local car washes in just two days-an d raised over $30,000 for the victims of the Sept. 11 traged. The also asked kids across the country to sponsorship cars washes in their own communities and give the proceeds to the American Red Cross. The sisters does not only inspired kids nationwide bus also congress. U.S. Rep. Tom Davis and Sen, John Warners of Virginia introduced a Congressional resolution on Sept. 20, 2001 that designated the following three consecutive weekends as National Wash America Weekends Rep. Davis even helped the girls wash cars That was definitely cool," says Alana, "I honestly never imagined this getting so big." Want to organize your own car wash? Log on to www.Washamerica.org for tips on putting together a car wash and info on where to send the money you raise. "When something needs to be done, no matter how impossible it seems, say Ashley, It can be done."

LITTLE RIBBONS, BIG PROFIT

Over 2,000 miles away from where the Twin Towers once stood, the small town of Sheridan, Wyo., (population 16,000) donated more than $34,000. This whopping sum of cash--given to tile American Red Cross--was raised in large part due to the efforts of Ashley Roberts, 17. As Ashley watched the towers fall and part of the Pentagon crumble, she asked her family, "What can we do when we live so far away?" With help from her sister, friends and neighbors, Ashley decided to make and sell red-white-and-blue lapel ribbons. It wasn't long before word of her work spread throughout the town--and Ashley had more orders than she could handle. She and her friends bought and sold all the ribbon in Sheridan. Two of Ashley's friends traveled across the Montana border in search of more ribbon to keep the project going. She never imagined her American Ties Relief Fund idea would be so inspiring. "I thought it was great, a total community effort," says Ashley. A local radio station gave $6,000, and the Wolf Creek Charitable Founda tion gave $10,000. Ashley never dreamt she could offer the victims so much. "We handed the Red Cross a sum of over $34,600," she says. Ashley's goal to give to a cause she felt emotionally connected to, yet geographically distanced from, was surpassed in a New York minute.

Rachel Karceski

WHEN LIFE GIVES YOU LEMONS...

Who knew a lemonade and cookie stand could raise up to $8,500 in just three days? Fourth graders- Julia Devita, 9 and Caroline White, 10, did just that - in honor of Julia's cousin Jonathan Cappello, who worked on the 105th floor of World Trade Center One, the first tower hit. The first weekend after the attacks, the girls mader red-white-blue cookies and lemonade, and opened a stand in their neighborhood in Charlotte, N.C. "I wabted to do something." says Caroline. With help from neighborhood friends, the girls raised over $1,000 their first day. "Some people didn't even want the lemonade and cookies," says Caroline. After collecting donations over the weekend and Monday after school, they had raised $3,500 for the American Red Cross. Neighbor Shannon Wesley even stopped by and generously agreed to have the Hornets' Wives Organization match some of the money the girls raised. So did her husband, Charlotte Hornets',player David Wesley. They each donated $2,500 to the cause. "We're really happy with what we've done," adds Julia. "I bet Jonathan wishes he could spend more time with us but, up there in heaven, I think he's proud of us." - Alicia Clott