9/11

This post is, obviously, several days late in coming, but I've decided to post it nonetheless.

Living in New York has given me a whole new perspective on the events of September 11th. Eight years ago, when the planes hit the twin towers and the Pentagon, I was as shocked and horrified as anyone else. But since I wasn't directly affected, and didn't personally know anyone who was, those events have steadily slipped into forgotten-ness. No longer.

As I've mentioned, I walk around Ground Zero (or whatever it is that we're calling it now) as part of my commute every morning. Sure, some of the initial chill has worn off as the commute has become more and more routine, but there's a definite inescapability about a giant hole in the middle of downtown Manhattan. Somehow, having that hole be a part of my new daily life, has forced me to come to grips with it in an entirely new way. 

On the anniversary of September 11th, I spent my workday helping out with several memorial services around the port. Conversations with many port workers who watched the towers fall from New Jersey drove home for me the reality that is painfully obvious to all of them: everyone was and is affected. Something else I didn't know: because the port is a TSA-secured zone, the entire place was locked down for two days. Thousands of port workers were literally trapped behind locked gates, many of them suspecting that their friends and family members had died in the attacks, but lacking any way of knowing for sure. 

But by far the most chilling 9/11 related experience came today, when, instead of going straight from the PATH station to the subway stop, I decided to go exploring for a bit. My wanderings took me to St. Paul's Chapel, which served as a refuge for firefighters and other aid workers for months after the tragedy. It's now a surprisingly effective hybrid of church, memorial, and museum - all around the perimeter are exhibits of firefighters' gear, letters of support from people everywhere, pews and cots where relief workers slept. The place was absolutely flooded with people; I had trouble getting in and out the door. Hours later, I'm still struggling to process what I saw. 

I hope you'll pardon what risks being a sappy reflection on things that most Americans probably realized 8 years ago (what can I say, I'm a little late in the game). Watching this city memorialize those events has been a truly inspiring - and humbling - way to begin my year here.