NEW YORK, NEW YORK (9/24-28, 2015) - Ground Zero

One cannot dismiss the soulful impact of the museum and memorial at Ground Zero. The recollection of the morning of September 11, 2001, parallels that of the disbelief those of us who recall President Kennedy's assassination felt - an instantaneous understanding that we were witness to a moment in history that would forever change our country.

I heard the news of the Twin Towers when I left a Grammar Techniques class I had just taught at our local community college. As I walked into the lobby of our main building, I heard the receptionist at the welcome desk telling students that our country was under attack. It was the day before my birthday, and any anticipatory happiness I felt for the following day dissolved on the spot.

As Laida and I approached the area on Saturday, I was amazed to see the new World Trade Center structure.

 

The light of the afternoon shadowed a cross on the side of the building.  I'm assuming that shadow is planned, but I don't know that for sure. The little dots ascending the building are lights that twinkle in the darkness and can be seen from a fair distance.

The fountain outside the memorial museum conjures the same feeling as the Vietnam Memorial in Washington. Simultaneously beautiful and somber, the area pays sweet tribute to those who perished there on 9/11.

Flowers decorated the names of people who perished. I remembered a young woman from the Marietta / Parkersburg area died in the Twin Towers' collapse, but I couldn't recall her name. Ironically, hers was the first picture I saw in area inside where each person who perished is honored. Her name was Mary Lou Hague. (I took a picture of her story photo at the memorial, but I later learned no photos were allowed, so I will not post it here.)

There are numerous twisted metal pieces throughout the museum that resemble huge metal sculptures. Had I not heard the constant repetition of the names of those who died in the background, I could have envisioned these displays as the work of an artist of reknown.

Relics of that day - a letter from a man to his sons and wife, the twisted remains of fire engines that responded, driver's licenses, shoes, etc.- remind visitors of the many whose lives ended that day.

It's impossible not to feel the sacredness of this burial ground, along with the resilience of the people of New York and their ability to move forward.