World Trade

A day or two ago, I had the opportunity to visit the World Trade Center memorial. On the way down, I halfheartedly attempted to mentally prepare myself for what I was about to witness. After all it was only thirteen years ago that my roommate woke me up saying “You have to see the news!”. And it’s only been thirteen years since I watched the first person hurl themselves out of a window; when I remarked “My God, somebody just watch their father or son die on national television.” It’s been thirteen years since American flags lined every street corner, and most people were just a bit nicer to each other.

With all of those memories becoming stronger and stronger with every block we passed, we headed closer to the memorial site. As we approached and I began to see it for the first time, something struck me; there was an irreverent silence around the memorial. There were hundreds and hundreds of people, but outside of the water rushing down, no real sounds. I heard no birds, no squeals, no laughs just the stark silence of sadness.

And then I saw it; a huge gaping hole in the landscape, a scar upon this previously unblemished land. It was the polar opposite of what I had seen here as a child, instead of the behemoth that used to reach into the heavens, there was now a crater.

I finally got up to the memorial and saw up close what I had been dreading, the names. It is one thing to know that thousands lost their life that day, but it is entirely another when you give names and stories to each of those people. And let me tell you, it becomes even worse when you think about the fact that at least one of those people was with child. I don’t know who you were Ms. Langer, but you made a huge impact on my life.

I guess that was the case with each and every name that I saw; when I realized that with each and every family represented here, there had been frantic moments wondering if their loved one had made it, only to get a call at some point saying that they would never be coming home. I cannot imagine what that must have felt like.

 

The tragic fact is that without the hatred present in the world, all of this could have been avoided. If people in every corner of the world had not been brought up to hate certain groups simply for being a part of those groups, maybe we could move forward. And that is the danger of hatred; they attack us and we hate them; everyone is willing to wipe the other side out without ever knowing who they are. This is why a morbid monument such as this is important; it gives a name to the nameless, a voice to those who never had a chance to speak for themselves. Perhaps if we could simply trade names with those we are supposed to hate, we could at least push toward the understanding that there is no “us” and “them”, there are simply human beings who often times are sold a bill of lies about another group of people who they’ve never even took the time to trade names with.

As an addendum, in the background of the fallen trade center memorial, another beacon of hope rises as if it were the phoenix rising from the ashes. A hulking building that rises into the clouds as if it were Mount Olympus itself. One World Trade Center will stand tall as the symbol of the American people; after all you may knock us down, but we will rise up taller than before. Peace to all.

-Q