It’s hard to believe that we are approaching the 15th anniversary of the tragic events of 9-11. In some ways it feels like it happened yesterday- and in other ways it seems like a hundred years ago. I think one reason for that strange sense of displacement in time is that it is one of those events that seared itself into our souls and minds, which makes it an exceptionally potent memory yet one that feels like it was part of an entirely different era. Regardless, it is something that none of us who experienced it can ever forget for as long as we live.
When I suggested to Kathy that we take a quick trip to NYC before the end of the summer, I gave not the slightest thought to this upcoming 9-11 anniversary – but once we knew we were going, we knew that our visit had to include some time spent at the 9-11 Memorial and Museum. It was unthinkable to do anything else.
This was our third visit to Ground Zero. We first visited in the summer of 2002, when there was no memorial as such – just the huge cratered imprints where the two towers had once stood. Nevertheless, people streamed there by the thousands to catch a glimpse of the sight with their own eyes, and we felt privileged to be among them. Our second visit was in the spring of 2012, when we were there with some of Polly’s singers from the Tremper High School Chorale. By this time, the memorial fountains were in place, as well as a temporary exhibit of artifacts that was awaiting completion of a permanent home- but even in a somewhat makeshift setting, it was powerful and moving.
On both of those previous visits, the sky was cloudy, as though collaborating in our mourning. On this latest visit, however, it was a brilliant, vibrant blue- not a cloud to be seen- just as the sky had been on September 11, 2001. It was a breathtaking backdrop for the Freedom Tower (still under construction) as well as the extraordinary Calatrava-designed subway entrance.
Of course, the centerpiece of the grounds has nothing to do with either of those imposing structures. It is the two memorial fountains, with the thousands of names engraved into the perimeter of each. On this particular occasion, the fountains were undergoing maintenance, which meant that there was much less water flowing than there is normally is- but it just gave them a more subdued sort of beauty.
This was the first time that Kathy and I got to see the Survivor Tree, a Callery pear tree that was found in the rubble of the towers – transplanted elsewhere – and nursed back to life before being replanted next to one of the fountains back in 2010. When one looks at the trunk, you can see evidence of the serious damage it suffered – which makes its lush upper branches all the more beautiful to behold.
As for the 9-11 Museum, we could not be more impressed with how thoughtfully and sensitively it was put together, whether one is there to mourn, to learn, to be inspired, to be amazed – or any or all of the above. One of the things we especially appreciated about the museum is that it doesn’t treat the tragedy of 9-11 as a uniquely American tragedy, but rather as something that caused hurt and outrage both here and around the world. And as one enters the museum, one sees the flags of 90 different countries, which serve as a reminder that people from 90 different countries were killed on 9-11.
There is a certain sort of terrible majesty in what’s known as Foundation Hall- where one can gaze at the immense surviving slurry wall that partly comprised the massive foundation of the towers …
…. or some of the largest remnants of the towers that survived the disaster, which give one a vivid sense of just how enormous those Towers were and the ferocious force necessary to take them down.
pictured below: a portion of the communication antenna that sat atop one of the Towers.
pictured below: This is the only window pane (out of 43,600) known to have survived the destruction of the Towers.
Of course, most of these kind of artifacts don’t speak to the thousands of people who worked in the Towers – which is why it was so touching to see what’s known as the Survivor’s Staircase, a set of stairs down which hundreds of people exited the building and reached safety.
Of course, there is something especially moving when one lays eyes on a twisted remains of a firetruck caught in the collapse – or of the charred axe carried by one of the firefighters. It’s a painful reminder of the hundreds of valiant first responders that lost their lives on 9-11.
Nothing is more heartbreaking than the special memorial exhibit that is dedicated to the thousands of people who died on 9-11. Their photos adorn the walls, while display cases on the opposite wall contain a representative sampling of touching personal mementos. <No photos are permitted inside the exhibit. I snapped the photo below from the outside hallway.> As powerful as that gallery is, I found the inner projection room just as moving. In a continuous loop they project on to the walls – one at a time – the name of each person killed, their birth date and death date, a brief summary of who they were, and their photograph. I stood there long enough to watch the projected tributes to seven different people who perished on 9-11, including a three-year-old boy who was a passenger on United 175.
That projection room echoes a touching exhibit in another part of the museum, where one sees what amounts to a projected collage of a few of the many hundreds of “missing person” posters that were hung in the hours after the attack by people desperate to learn the whereabouts of a missing loved one.
But beyond the death and destruction of 9-11, the museum also chronicles the outpouring of love and concern from the American public and from people of other countries as well. Especially beautiful was a lovely mural made by children in South Carolina and a memorial quilt comprised of small squares from contributors in all fifty states and five other countries. Looking at both of those tributes was a reminder of how badly so many of us wanted to do something- anything- to help, to make a difference, to contribute something to the healing of our nation and to the comfort of those directly impacted by the events of that terrible day.
I talked earlier about how this was the first time that Kathy and I visited Ground Zero on a day that was as brilliantly sunny as was September 11, 2001. That same blue sky was the inspiration for an original artistic work created expressly for the 9-11 Museum: a sculpture in which a number of different artists were invited to each create a small panel depicting what they remember being the shade of blue that the sky was that day. All of those panels were gathered together and mounted around this saying by Virgil: No Day Shall Erase You From The Memory Of Time. In many ways this sculpture embodies what this museum is all about – fully acknowledging the overwhelming pain and loss suffered on 9-11 … yet also celebrating the spirit of resilience and courage with which we rose from the ashes … and affirming that those who were lost on that day will never ever be forgotten.
