Ground Zero

For years, we Americans have viewed terrorism as something that happens to other countries. It has always seemed to be distant, even those times that terrorists did strike American soil, such as the bombing of La Guardia Airport in the 1970's, or when American aircraft were hijacked or bombed.

Interestingly, September 11 felt similar to me. A major terrorist attack happened in the United States, and I was in Hong Kong when I found out. I was distant. It still didn't feel real. Even when I heard of the people I had known who had died, it still felt remote.

I grew up in Maryland and New Jersey. From 1972 until I went to Duke in 1978, I lived in Mendham, New Jersey. When I got my driver's license, part of every day was taking my father to the train station in Morris Plains. Every morning, I'd see the World Trade Center. Every morning, my father would take the train to Hoboken, and take PATH to the very same World Trade Center.

As I gained my freedom as a teenager, I grew to love New York City.

Last weekend, I flew home to see my parents after returning from China. Several years ago, my parents moved to Cape May, but I still would fly into Newark. Even though I would often just head south (or visit my property in Pennsylvania) seeing New York would never fail to lift my spirits. This time, I had to see myself what was done to the city I love.

It took a while to get from the airport to the hotel to store my luggage, and from there to the city. I took the 1 train south to Chambers Street -- the last stop left in Manhattan now. The barricades were there at Chambers Street, no one but the debris removal crews were allowed closer.

You could only see some bright lights from Chambers Street, anyway.

So I walked over to Broadway and turned south along the western boundary of the closed area. You could see the businesses long there were suffering. One I noted in particular was an Indian restaurant that had a sign in the window begging people to come in and eat. There were easily 40 tables, and 2 people inside.

Walking down Broadway, you passed City Hall, and when you reached St. Paul's Church at Vesey Street, you can see it. The most vivid sites are from Dey Street, where you see the remnants of #5, and through Liberty Park between Liberty and Cedar, where the remains of the South Tower are still to be seen.

Seeing this, more than the pictures on the television in Hong Kong, more than the e-mail telling me of people I knew who escaped, and who did not escape, more than the heightened security, brought it all home to me.

I took my pictures, starting at Cedar Street and walking north to City Hall. I then just kept walking up Broadway until I reached Columbus Circle. I needed to clear my head of the glimpse of hell I had just seen.

#5 and the World Financial Center
South Tower
The destruction of #5
Surrounded
South Tower from Cortland
Ready to fall
A wide angle

What candles may be held to speed them all?
  Not in the hands of boys, but in their eyes
  Shall shine the holy glimmers of good-byes.
The pallor of girls' brows shall be their pall;
  Their flower the tenderness of patient minds,
  And each slow dusk a drawing-down of blinds.

-Wilfred Owen, Anthem for Doomed Youth (2^nd verse)

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