Earlier this week I traveled to New York for work. It wasn’t my first trip, but it had been quite a while since my last visit. My list of things to do were more along the lines of wandering to new areas than tourist stops but there was one item in particular that was deemed a must: One World Trade Center (Freedom Tower).
I wrote the below on Monday, September 21.
The last time I stood in this spot was in 2003. I was in 8th grade and standing with 100 of my classmates while on a school trip.
Then, there was a hole. Where construction workers filled the space. With a small observation area and fences surrounding the rest. And there were lots of people unsure of how this could be real. Unsure of how they should feel. All reminiscing of where they were, just two short years before. All trying to imagine what would become of this place.
Now, there stands a beautiful glass building. Where people work. With a memorial for those lost, set in the footprints of the Twin Towers. And each of their names are etched in a way that you can touch and somehow feel their presence and absence simultaneously. And there are people here too. Some visiting a landmark. Some visiting to remember. Some still unsure how to feel. Some visiting with selfie sticks. Some visiting because they think they should.
Today’s scene is different than before but the feeling is the same.
Then, I felt those lost by viewing the destruction. Now, I feel those lost by placing my hand over their names.
Then, I thought of how far the city still had to go as protective mesh covered surrounding buildings from dust. Now, I see brand new buildings surrounding the tower with more developments on the way.
Then, I walked away proud of my classmates for being well-behaved 13-year-olds. For having intelligent and real conversations about what this meant to us individually and to our country as a whole. Now, I walk away knowing that I need another visit before I can enter the 9/11 museum. For I remember our chosen retaliation and how that still affects our country. And I’m not quite ready.
Then and now, I approached with little to say. Feeling thankful for everything – good and bad.
Today, I turned my music off and took a seat. Looked in every direction and into the faces of all I passed, knowing that we shared one event that brought us all to this place. Reflected on where I was on 9/11/01. Remembering every detail of my sixth grade classroom and the broadcast we watched and the conversations that followed.
At the end of the day. No one has all the answers.
And it’s not the how or why that matters, simply reflection is key.