This post actually goes right along with what Chad has just posted about, so it's kind of perfect timing I guess. I remember when I visited New York City in the summer of 2006. It was the first time that I had ever been and I immediately fell in love. The whole feel of the city was amazing. Naturally, I was very interested in visiting Ground Zero and getting a sense of what it must have been like on that fateful day in September. I don't know that anything I watched on television or anything I read in a book could have prepared me for it. I had seen pictures and I had heard of their size, but walking up to the chain link fence that surrounded the site, I found myself almost breathless. The size of the crater in the earth was enormous. As me and my family walked around the surrounding streets we visited a firehouse, actually the first firehouse to respond the site. The picture above was a memorial that had been constructed in remembrance of the brave men who had sacrificed everything that they held sacred in order to try and preserve everything that those lost in the Towers had held sacred. It was stunning to see.
But, this was actually not the thing that was most powerful to me. For me it was seeing just how close the attacks brought people together. Of course there was a huge increase in the sense of nationalism nationwide, but especially in New York City there was a feeling of unity. On the surrounding streets there were black walls that were littered with pictures, drawings, poetry, and other forms of artwork. I have posted a couple of pictures that I took of some of the poems and pictures. For me this was extremely powerful and almost means more than any memorial they could build. This is personal. These are memorials constructed by everyday citizens of New York City. People that may have been directly affected or people that may have had no connection to anyone in either Tower. Regardless, they all felt as though they had experienced a loss.
I really just wanted to share this because I felt that it was such a powerful experience for me. I'm not sure if anyone else has been or seen this, but it is definitely something worth checking out.
I remember the first time I went to New York. I was 8 years old! It was the most beautiful thing I thought I had ever seen! The towers were high in the sky, the statue of liberty stood strong! The shopping was absolutely fantastic. I went again 3 years later. The whole mood of the city had changed. When I saw the place of where the towers were before the attack I couldn't even remember when I had visited them the first time and what my reaction was. It was definitely a scene that is hard to swallow. I conversed with a few people and some of them were people that had lost ones in the attack. It was a very captivating memorial.
ReplyDeleteWill, thanks for sharing your pictures! I wish I could visit New York City, but since I have yet to come across an opportunity to do so, I will live vicariously through the bits you provided in reference to the effects of 9/11.
ReplyDeleteI guess what strikes me the most about these photographs is the irony of poetry as a form of graffiti. To me, it doesn’t look like traditional graffiti, but I believe it fits the description, as it is an expression of art on public places. I usually associate graffiti with some form of violence; traditionally, gangs use graffiti as a way to mark their territory from other gangs, to set themselves apart as superior. However, in this untraditional form, this poetic graffiti promotes love instead of hate, equality instead of superiority. The second photograph in your post really struck me. The writer addresses the letter to “New York,” instead of separating it into specific people of specific cultures within the city. Instead of seeing each New Yorker as an individual with traits and beliefs that set them apart from one another, the poet unifies all New Yorkers as one entity, united by tragedy. The same idea appears in the final line: “I love you.” This concept of a “you” used to address the millions of people in New York unifies all the diverse people in the city. Although they may come from different backgrounds and different cultures, all of these people experience the same grief in response to 9/11. In that, we, as people of a common area, city, or country, are all unified.
Just want to say that these pictures are amazing especially the one of the fire fighters, very moving. I actually have family living in downtown NYC and visited there a couple times. The latest was 2 years ago during the summer months. We went all over the city, but my adventure began at ground zero. The haunting, discomforting feeling that crept up my spine as I grabbed the fence and visually and emotionally took in the sacred ground is unforgotten. Now that the memorial is finished I can't wait to go back, but as you said Will, ground zero itself was not the most eye opening part of the city. As my visit continued through the days I had the chance to experience NYC from all perspectives. From the Bronx side stores and bars next to Yankee Stadium to the Manhattan luxuries, everywhere there was a remembrance of 9/11. I got to see a mural painted on the ceiling of bar remembering the local fire fighters and police officers that gave their lives, as well as, a beautiful sculpture in the lounge area of a 5-star restaurant of the men raising the American flag on the rubble. The whole city seemed to come together after that day and are still very tightly knit. This bond that all New Yorkers share is everlasting and I believe that even when the generation that experienced the attacks surpasses, the new age will still share the same eternal unity.
ReplyDeleteI went to NYC in 2006 and 2009. Both times I saw ground zero. I remember there was a sort of construction tunnel next to the site, it had orange netting all around it, it was a sort of detour. When you get out of the dark, construction cave you come out right in front of ground zero, with the chain link fence that Will described. None of it seemed real until I saw it. None of it felt close to me, felt like it affected me, until I saw it. And it's not pretty. It's a wreck, or it was, anyway. I think if you were to go to Rome and crumble the Colosseum, it wouldn't create as much debris and rubble and wreckage as I saw on the site. It's terrifying, and it shakes you to your core. I live in Buffalo, the same state as NYC, and it didn't have an impact on me until I saw it. But I do remember, that as I stood there alone looking at it, my hand on the fence, New Yorkers slowed down as they walked by. I think they like to watch people begin to understand. And when you do, you feel like you're part of something.
ReplyDelete