By: Maxine Eichen
“Blue skies with only a few fluffy clouds, a slight breeze on an otherwise warm day.” That is how my father described the weather to me when I asked him about the day that forever changed our lives. The weather on September 11, 2001 was near perfect, as was the weather on September 11, 2011 as my family and I stood at Ground Zero for the 10th Anniversary ceremony.
The days shared more than weather. An intensity that cannot be matched hung heavy in the air on both days. The intensity was created by a group of thousands, bonded together because of a shared traumatic experience.
However, there were differences among the similarities. There were many tears, but this time they were tears of mourning and remembrance rather than tears of fear and panic. There were many police officers and firefighters, yet these men and women of service were in full dress uniform instead of work uniforms caked with soot and debris. The smell of Ground Zero was overwhelming on both days, but this time the smell of grass and flowers filled the air, not that of smoldering metal and death.
This ceremony was also different from the other ceremonies I have attended with my family. For one, the city was on an even higher alert than the years before. I’m not sure if it was because George W. Bush and Barack Obama were present, or because of the three unaccounted for U-Haul trucks in New Jersey.
The Secret Service ran the show this time. Heavily armed soldiers policed the roads leading up to the George Washington Bridge, stopping all large vehicles as we went through a radiation checkpoint. I’m sure some people would feel reassured by the soldiers with machine guns checking for threats. Instead, I felt even more vulnerable. The security reminded me of what I experienced during the few months after the initial attack and it brought back the anxiety I felt ten years ago. The anxiety intensified when we realized they had jammed GPS signals starting on FDR Drive.
Strangely, I found comfort in the similarities in the ceremonies. Things that rocked me during the very first ceremony on September 11, 2002 felt familiar and weirdly calming this Sunday. As with every year, the ceremony began with speeches by politicians that fail to comfort the mourners, simply because words can’t bring people back. Then they began the reading of the names of the deceased by family members. Some readers were children, barely old enough to remember the deceased, let alone recall what they felt on that day.
Then, at 8:46 a.m., the same time American Airlines Flight 11 hit World Trade Center Tower 1, the crowd shared its first moment of silence. After a minute, the readers began where they left off. This happened again and again as moments of silence were held at 9:03 a.m. when United Airlines Flight 175 hit World Trade Center Tower 2, 9:37 a.m. when American Airlines Flight 77 hit the Pentagon, at 9:59 a.m. when World Trade Center Tower 2 collapsed, and at 10:28 a.m., when World Trade Center Tower 1 collapsed.
I was 11 years old on September 11, 2001. I remember being in math class with Mrs. Kurtz going over homework when a teacher entered our classroom and whispered in my teacher’s ear. Mrs. Kurtz’s face paled, and I was told to go to the office. I sat next to my sister in the empty office. We had no idea what was going on, and we brainstormed back and forth about what we could possibly be in trouble for. Why else would we be in the office?
An hour later we were picked up by our grandmother, who told us what had happened. I wasn’t sure what to think. Dad’s building was hit by a plane, as was the one next to his. The buildings collapsed and we don’t know if he’s ok. Dozens of questions ran through my mind on that day that are still unanswered for me. How could somebody do something like that? Why would you kill innocent people for things they can’t control? My father walked away from Ground Zero, though certainly not unharmed. My second cousin was working in World Trade Center Tower 2 at the time, but he did not walk away. While I mourn the loss of my second cousin, I can now take comfort in the memorial at Ground Zero.
Once you’re through the entrance of the memorial, it smells like grass and flowers. You forget you’re in the middle of lower Manhattan for a minute. A brand new park in the middle of construction, thick green grass and two enormous in-ground fountains represent the Twin Towers.
Between the two towers is the beginning construction of the museum, which will open in about a year. Modern glass walls encase the future museum. In it are original and untouched pillars from the buildings surrounding World Trade Center Towers 1 and 2. For a brief moment I forgot that I was standing in Ground Zero as I took in the glass building, 1-acre fountains, and hundreds of flowers spread throughout the memorial.
The paradox of such a beautiful park on top of a grave for thousands is overwhelming and sucks the wind out of your lungs. The war on terrorism isn’t over but Ground Zero is no longer a pit of destruction. I saw children rolling in grass and families tracing the names of their loved ones at the very site their lives were taken. It’s hard for me to pinpoint exactly what it was I felt while standing in the middle of the memorial grounds, but I know that one of those feelings was closure. For now, that’s enough for me.
