The 9/11 Memorial at the World Trade Center site in New York City is a deeply moving and somber place. Dedicated to the thousands of lives lost in the terror attacks of September 2001 and February 1993, it officially opened to the public on September 12, 2011 on the 10th anniversary of the September 11 attacks.
The memorial occupies the footprints of the original ‘Twin Towers’ and features two cascading waterfalls and reflecting pools. Every single name of the nearly 3000 victims is inscribed on bronze panels that line the edges of the two pools.
The weight of the tragedy
I’m not sure what compelled me on the day I visited, but something urged me to take the time to read every single name etched into the memorial. And so I did.
It took several hours to silently recognize and acknowledge every life lost right here in this spot. There were family names that were the same as some from back home in Manitoba. I couldn’t help but wonder if anyone who died here was connected to a family that I knew.
For this Canadian traveler, visiting the memorial was vert emotional. It was hard not to feel the weight of the tragedy of events that occurred, when two airplanes slammed into the Twin Towers merely 17 minutes apart. It was difficult to ignore the heaviness that still lingered in the air. Impossible to hold back tears. And so I didn’t.
And honestly, I didn’t care. It seemed like the right place to feel and express humanity and compassion for all those lives lost. While I’d seen countless news stories and documentaries about the attacks, I viewed it all through a screen. The reality of it didn’t really hit home until I was standing here in the place where it happened.
Families forever changed
Then I saw her. A middle-aged woman tracing one of the names with sketching paper and a charcoal pencil. She was some distance away from me, so I stood back and watched her quietly for a few moments. Until I finally found the courage to approach her. And so I did.
She looked up at me as I got closer. I smiled as warmly as I could, and asked quietly, “That’s really lovely what you are doing. Did you know him?”
“Yes,” she answered, now having stopped the tracing. “He was my husband,” she said, before motioning towards a teenaged boy and girl who politely smiled back at me. “These are his children.”
“Thank you for sharing that,” is all I could mange to say in return. I couldn’t fathom what they must have felt to lose their father and husband on that fateful day. I never fully realized the vast number of individuals who were senselessly killed, and how many lives were violently taken, until stopping to read every single name at the World Trade Center site.
Until meeting this resilient woman and her beautiful children.
Moments of humanity
I was humbled and honoured to be in their presence, and grateful to have met them. I’m thankful they so willingly shared such a profound moment of humanity with a complete stranger, who was only now realizing for the first time the enormity of it all.
Even though I had no more words to say as I silently walked away, I’m certain my tears said enough.
