In the days following the terrorist attacks on September 11, 2001, the small town of Gander, Newfoundland, became an unexpected haven for nearly 7,000 airline passengers stranded after dozens of transatlantic flights were diverted there. With its modest population and limited infrastructure, Gander and surrounding communities rallied to provide shelter, food, medical aid, and comfort to the "Plane People," as the visitors came to be known.
Gander International Airport, a key refueling stop for transatlantic flights, saw one of its runways lined nose to tail with grounded aircraft. Due to heightened security concerns, passengers were initially confined aboard the planes for up to 12 hours while local police and immigration officials conducted screenings, including metal detector checks and pat-downs, to guard against potential threats. Once cleared, travelers were transported by a fleet of school buses—whose drivers had called off a planned strike—to various temporary accommodations, including schools, churches, community centers, and a Salvation Army summer camp. With only 550 hotel rooms reserved mainly for flight crews, most passengers found themselves sleeping on gymnasium floors or makeshift cots.
The town’s close-knit community quickly mobilized, putting non-essential services on hold so residents could volunteer. Local radio and TV stations broadcast calls for assistance, prompting widespread donations of supplies and services. Pharmacies filled prescriptions for passengers whose medications were trapped in locked cargo holds, while a local telecommunications company set up a bank of 100 phones to enable travelers to contact relatives overseas. Businesses contributed generously, with a toy store distributing donated items to children, and the town’s fire department delivering them in a festive parade. Even pets abandoned in cargo compartments were rescued and cared for by volunteers.
Despite initial tensions between some U.S. and Middle Eastern passengers, sources say these divisions eased as people recognized their shared predicament. High-profile passengers, including fashion executive Werner Baldessarini, former supermodel Marisa Berenson, and the family of actor Woody Harrelson, reportedly declined special treatment, integrating fully with fellow travelers. The stranded passengers experienced a surprising sense of community fostered by locals who shared food, offered showers and beds, and entertained with fishing trips, hikes, karaoke, and traditional Newfoundland delicacies such as bottled moose.
Special efforts were made to lift spirits, especially among children. Police officer Oz Fudge, noted for his empathy and embraces, helped organize a Disney-themed birthday party for terminally ill children aboard one Virgin flight, featuring a 14-foot cake, clowns, balloons, and costumed performers. The heartfelt events and personal connections forged during the week saw friendships endure for years, with some travelers and residents maintaining contact long afterward.
Many participants expressed profound gratitude for the care they received amid a moment of fear and uncertainty. Former Gander mayor Claude Elliott characterized the town’s response as a reminder that “on the 11th you saw the worst of man, and then on the 12th you saw the best.” The kindness of Gander’s residents has since become emblematic, inspiring a popular musical and drawing visitors to the town decades later.
When the last of the passengers departed on September 16, the community was left with a deep sense of fulfillment amid the exhaustion. The stranded travelers collectively contributed approximately $60,000 toward the cost of their stay and donated computers and scholarship funds supporting local education. For a brief time, a remote outpost known more for its rugged environment than its hospitality became a symbol of human generosity in the wake of tragedy.