New York City - Ground Zero

Rushed for time now, I'm afraid that I won't use words adequate enough for my experience going to Ground Zero for the first time since 9/11. Basically, our whole second day in NY was spent on this trip to the financial district of the city.

Because we were such a large group, there was not a taxi in NY City that would stop for us. Apparently it's illegal, even in a mini van taxi, to take more than four passengers. We decided to split up and get in two distinct groups of three.  Immediately, we were in. It was quite a long taxi ride, maybe 15 minutes and about $15, down to where the twin towers once stood.

I guess my first reaction was that almost 10 years after the tragedy, the whole area is little more than a construction site and no one in the area seemed to know the hallowed ground upon which they stood. We walked along where we thought we would find the actual WTC footprints, only to find that there wasn't a lot to see. We stopped and asked a policeman where we could find the small museum that we knew was there and he sent us the wrong way. We stopped again and asked a lady inside a toll both outside a parking garage across the street from where the towers were and she admitted that she didn't know where the twin towers had been exactly and that she did not know where to find a tribute to all the victims. This was particularly shocking to me, given that this was a tragedy that changed America in such profound ways.

Here we were, in the epicenter of what clearly was the worst American tragedy of my lifetime, and life for people living around Ground Zero went on with little reverence for the thousands of lives lost so brutally, so senselessly, so cruelly.

Looking for the small museum we were told existed at Ground Zero, we continued on. Frustrated by the lack of information, Wade said, “Let’s look for the church that sat next to the towers. The one that so many people flocked to during the chaos.” We quickly spotted a church steeple across the construction zone and headed over to Church St. where we saw an old, old cemetery on the front lawn of St. Paul’s Chapel.

“This is it.” I said, immediately recognizing the surrounding fence that once held missing posters, flags and pleas to find loved ones. We walked up the hill towards the chapel and noticed the headstones that were so old, most of the writing had been completely eroded so that only the blank stone remained. Some were from 1813, some from 1805 and many earlier than that. We entered St. Paul’s and walked around the perimeter, looking at photos, remembrances and finally, to The Memorial Altar.

Approaching the altar, I heard the person next to me crying. I thought that maybe they knew someone who had died that day and backed away to let them grieve. My turn came and I moved in close to look at the photos and read the handwritten notes….Has anyone seen this man?  Please, Daddy, I miss you and want you to come home. This wife and mother has been missing since 9/11, please call if you see her.

My vision blurred by silent tears filling my eyes and a choking sound came from my throat as I tried not to cry. I could read nothing more and backed away, turning quickly to face a large pillar so that strangers could not see my distorted face. Audra and Colton noticed my distress, quietly bringing me a box of tissue and some hugs. Looking around, there were tissue boxes everywhere - it wasn’t surprising. I couldn’t breathe anymore in that chapel and rushed out the front door where Wade and the kids were waiting. Without saying a word, we all turned and headed back to Church Street.

Outside the chapel, we were given an address on Liberty St. that would get us to our destination. We turned the corner onto Liberty St. and found what we had been searching for, the Tribute WTC Visitors Center. Here, across the street from where the twin towers once stood, was a small, modest museum that contained personal effects of the victims that were all on-loan from the families. There was a short movie about everyday life at the World Trade Centers before 9/11 and how much people loved it there. They called it a family.

There were 911 audio tapes and firefighter radio recordings of their conversations inside the towers. Too much smoke, sending people down faster. I’m going up. Where’s Bob? There was a quote from a widow of a Fire Captain, “I watched on TV and knew that Terry was in there. I knew he would not come out until it was clear and I also knew, after the first tower fell, that he would not be coming home."

There was an airplane window, although twisted and broken, that was exactly like the one I sat next to on my trip out. I imagined the person who sat next to that window and wondered what must have gone through their mind as they rode to their death. There were walls and walls, covered from floor to ceiling, of photographs, personal mementos, favorite t-shirts, baseball caps, death certificates. So many photos of people smiling, kids laughing, couples on their wedding day….people like you and me. Children like mine.

There were more notes. One that really got to me was a photo of a young couple holding a brand new baby and a toddler. Next to the photo was a blue karate belt and a letter, written by the toddler a few years after 9/11….Dear Daddy, I know that your favorite color is blue so I wanted you to have my blue karate belt. I wish you could come home and live with me again. I love you and I will see you in Heaven.

So many people have questioned God’s role in all of this. Many asked where He was and why He let it happen. I never asked those questions. For me, as horrific as this disaster was and continues to be, God has always been here healing the broken hearted and providing hope in the face of such evil. God did not bring this disaster nor did He run away when it happened. God brought hope in the form of countless rescue workers and volunteers who lived in the middle of hell-on-earth so that peace could someday be restored. I believe that the events of 9/11 broke God's heart much like it broke ours.

I prayed a lot during this somber visit to Ground Zero and I will continue to pray that we never forget those beautiful faces, those life stories, those precious lives that were taken so cruelly and so unfairly almost 10 years ago and those who were left behind to grieve such personal loss.

On a fire station door along a NY City street

The Memorial Altar in St. Paul's Chapel

Audra standing next to one wall inside the WTC Tribute on Liberty St.

Standing beside steel beams pulled from the 9/11 rubble which was erected as a symbol of hope for the city.

St. Paul's Chapel on church street

 A picture inside St. Paul's Chapel

Ground Zero

The Airplane window...

Sierra in front of another wall in the WTC Tribute center

Comments

[KC]

Thank you for sharing. Now I don't have to visit, I have done so vicariously through you. Loved the writing and descriptions. KC

[Randall]

Sheila,

I was deeply saddened and somewhat dismayed by what you found at Ground Zero. I have never visited the site, and, given your vivid description of what you found there, have no need or desire to visit it myself. Hearing audio tapes recorded during the actual disaster and seeing photos of loved ones and reading notes from children to dads and moms who died would be too heart-wrenching. On the other hand, maybe this type of stuff is what we all need to see, just to remind ourselves of the pain and suffering that pure evil can inflict on any one of us (or our loved ones) at any time. Naturally, I was dismayed at the irreverence and ignorance that you found in many of the people who live near and work around Ground Zero. On second thought, they are actually no different than most of the other people living in our country who, over time, have suppressed their memory of the attack or never really felt impacted by it in the first place. However, I just figured that people who were around Ground Zero on a daily basis would still be somewhat conscious of the significance of the place and the horror that surrounds it.

I love your comments about people who question God’s role in all of this, and, like you, I never pondered those questions. God gave us all free will so that we would love Him through our own choosing, which is the only way that our love for Him has any significance. When God created mankind, I am sure He knew the dangers of free will, and that a certain amount of evil would flow from this independence. Throughout the ages He has witnessed every horror and evil act that mankind has perpetuated, and, as you have so wonderfully stated, “God has always been here healing the broken hearted and providing hope in the face of such evil”.

All of this brings to mind one of the most gut-wrenching, yet uplifting books I have ever read called The Shack, by Wm. Paul Young. This book highlights the fact that an evil act of horrific proportions doesn’t have to include the suffering or death of thousands of people…………….just that of a single child. As the main character in the book wrestles with God to try and understand the murder of his child, the unresolved tension at the heart of the book becomes unbearable at times. However, in the end, I believe Randal Rauser summarized perfectly the final lesson a person can take away from The Shack. At the end of his book, Finding God In The Shack, Randal writes:

Here we are challenged to move beyond the limits of theodicy to embrace the discipline of patient and prayerful hope. Perhaps the final lesson of The Shack is that we should remain discontent with this world, not because we are destined to leave it, but because we long to experience God’s final healing touch when his kingdom comes in power. Even in the midst of unresolved pain we are challenged to embrace the hope that Jesus shares with Mack: “for now most of what exists in the universe will only be seen and enjoyed by me, like special canvasses in the back of an artist’s studio, but one day……………..”

May God’s grace, love and mercy be with all those who lost friends or loved ones during the events of 9/11.

Randall