Walking through the September 11th memorial park in New York city I’m soothed with cool and quiet air. A surprising change from the heat of the day. The visitors, subdued, respectful, speak in hushed voices. I have the feeling I am in an outdoor cathedral. The city noises fade away, muffled by the sounds of the huge fountains pouring into the central blocks of what remains of the two World Trade Towers. As I read the names of the people, whose monument this is, I am stunned by how many there are. The plaques completely surround what was once the base of each building. It’s hard to believe this place once bustled with people going about their daily lives.
When the planes hit the two buildings the force of the explosions molded steel girders into bizarre shapes, melted concrete stairs and burnt to cinders everything inside these towering structures.
What was left on that day? Fear, distrust, loss, sadness and a scar so deep that for some, it will never be erased. But then there are these stories of life that come out of the rubble, like a pear tree, salvaged from the wreckage, cared for and tended until it revived and was replanted at this memorial site. Stories of heroism such as 24-year-old Welles Crowther who went back in and helped at least a dozen people get out alive. He gave his life helping strangers. Canadian, Brian Clark stopped to discuss with his co-workers if they should escape to the roof. When he heard someone’s screams he went to investigate and found Stanley Pramnaith trapped in the rubble. Both these men were lucky to survive the horror of that day.
Many of the first responders who went to the scene died but they saved many lives. There were so many heroes, people who saw a need and fulfilled that need without question of what harm they were putting themselves in.
September 11 is a date to remember this tragedy, but it is also a day to remember all those people who helped selflessly, who worked hard to save the lives of so many people. I am humbled by their humanity during such a tragic time.
