Twenty-one years ago, with what would be named Operation Yellow Ribbon, over 200 airplanes were diverted to Canada to clear the airspace after the devastating events that took place on the morning of September 11. Thirty-eight of those planes would land in Gander, Newfoundland—a town with a handful of stoplights and a population of less than 13,000. Their airport had once been the largest in the world, so it would be able to accommodate the 6,122 passengers and 473 crew members who became part of Gander’s fold.

Vikram Garg, currently the creative visionary and executive chef at TBD—a pristine restaurant located in the Lotus Honolulu Hotel that reflects his culinary heritage and global journeys—was one of those passengers.

“How did it start? I had been working as a chef in the Caribbean, but I was in India on a break. I was flying from Frankfurt to New York and was awakened by an announcement that we were about to land.”

“I checked my watch, and we were still two hours away from New York. There was an obvious commotion on the plane. Then the pilot told us that the Twin Towers had been struck by commercial aircraft and that we would be landing in Gander.”

Immigration and customs procedures, along with more than usual stringent screening, took hours to complete. Garg recalls that it was 1:30 in the morning the next day when they were allowed to disembark. “‘No luggage. Just carry-ons,’ they said.”

We boarded a bus that took us to Gander Collegiate where the gym was filled with cots. “The beauty of it was that from before we even landed, the residents of Gander had arranged all of this for us.”

“I found a place for myself and put my backpack down on the cot. Then I walked up to the entrance of the school. Everything we might need was there.” So was a television where the news was replaying the awful events from the skies the day before.

A long line had formed with travelers wanting “to get a bite,” Garg recalled. “As I moved closer, I heard one man say, ‘I’ll have a soft-boiled egg’ and another say, ‘I’d like an egg over easy.’”

“I leaned in and said to the woman taking orders, ‘Excuse me, Ma’am, I’d like to help you.’”

“She responded, ‘No, no, no, you’re tired. We’re okay.’”

“Then I said, kindly insisting, ‘Really, can I come around and help you out?’” She acquiesced.

“I said, ‘Here’s what we’re going to do. Grab all the eggs and start breaking them into a bowl.’ In less than an hour, we had made enough scrambled eggs for over 100 people.” They added fruit and bread with butter and preserves. “We made it a buffet and served over 300 people that first meal of the first day.”

No one knew how long they would be staying in Gander. But they came to understand that they would be receiving the necessities of food, clothing, and shelter. They would also be given compassion and support while the wider world was filled with fear and sorrow.

“I shared with one of the men from Gander that I needed to buy a few things like t-shirts and such, so he drove me to their Walmart. But when I headed to the cashier, she asked, ‘Are you from the planes?’”

“I told her that I was, and she said, ‘Okay. You can go. If you were on one of the planes, you don’t need to pay for these things.’”

“I insisted. But she insisted more strongly and with love.”

On the second day, Garg mentioned to the hosting kitchen staff that he was a professional chef by trade. By then, they had started forming connections with a common goal. “We had a routine.”

“Word went out on that second day that ‘There’s this guy in the kitchen doing all this stuff.’ My morning task was to gather items for the day’s menu. The first time we got to our supplies location, I thought ‘This place looks like a stadium or something.’ It was the biggest walk-in I had ever seen—their ice-skating rink.”

Garg remembers that whispers continued regarding the crisis that had unfolded in the United States. The airspace remained closed, but telephones had been set up so people could connect with their loved ones. And most moved out of the gym as they were invited into homes.

Garg was able to reach his wife, and he explained that everyone was being well taken care of by the Ganderites. Along with helping to prepare meals, Garg played bingo, visited pubs, and formed friendships.

At night, instead of staying with a Gander family, Garg stayed on his cot in the gym. “I wanted to be with the group—the cooks—I wanted to be right there.”

Garg also became an honorary Newfoundlander through “The Royal Order of Screechers” when he was invited to “kiss the cod.” The fishy tradition mirrors the way Ganderites so seamlessly brought outsiders in and embraced them as if they were their own.

The generosity and graciousness innate to the Ganderites exist as altruism at its finest.

Fast forward about ten years, Garg recalls, “I got this crazy message from Irene Sankoff.” Sankoff, along with her husband David Hein, is the co-creator of the Canadian musical Come from Away. “She said, ‘We are doing a musical. We have a role for you. It’s done. We couldn’t locate you. We need you to sign a disclaimer.”

I said, “Send it. I’ll sign it.”

Opening on Broadway in 2017, Come from Away follows the stories of some of the passengers who ended up in Gander. One of the characters in the play is Ali—“a master chef with an international restaurant.” In 2001, Garg was that international chef—the Executive Sous Chef at the Rosewood Little Dix Bay in the Caribbean.

The crafting of Ali by the play’s creators also drew upon the experiences of another unnamed passenger who was subject to specific moments of prejudice during the first hours after the 9/11 attacks . . . ones that Garg did not have to endure. But he has seen the play and says, “I couldn’t stop crying.”

But then he states, “It’s about the people of Gander. Life brings you a lot of tests, but, when it comes down to it, it’s about helping each other.” Now, over two decades later, it’s still about helping each other. By sharing his story, Chef Garg is paying it forward (as many more of the “plane people” did in their own ways) so those who read it . . . those who listen . . . can take away with them his belief that “humanity truly exists.”