COLUMN: A memorial to last a lifetime
Last Wednesday I had the chance of a lifetime to fly to New York City to visit during Sept. 11.
I was talked into going at the last minute by some friends who were already going (thanks Christine, Darci, Jason and Julie). I gave in to their offer, bought a plane ticket, and the next day I was leaving on an airplane headed to New York City.
We landed at the JFK International Airport at 6 a.m. At first, it was muggy and gloomy outside. Luckily, as we were riding on the subway, the clouds cleared and the sun came out.
Around 8 a.m. we arrived in downtown Manhattan. It didn’t take us long to find Ground Zero – just follow the crowd. We walked down about a block away from Ground Zero, as close as the NYPD would let us. We saw crowds of people and many memorials: The fences of the St. Paul Church draped with flags, flowers, letters and other sentimental items; families of victims wearing T-shirts with pictures of their lost ones on them and banners lying on the steps of the St. Peter’s Church with written notes of both mourning and encouragement for the citizens of New York.
As we stood in the crowd, we had a moment of silence at 8:46 a.m., the time the first tower was hit exactly one year ago to the day. Suddenly, this noisy, fast-paced city had slowed down to pay their quiet respects. Looking around, I knew something was missing. The emptiness in the New York skyline reflected the emptiness felt in the hearts of its residents.
We wandered to another spot where we had a good view straight across Ground Zero. While walking around there we could hear the part of the ceremony when they were announcing the names of the victims and the sound of “Amazing Grace” being played on the violins and cellos. My body was filled with chills. My eyes watered. People all around me were crying, putting their arms around one another, complimenting, and giving their respects to the NYPD officers who were standing nearby.
As the ceremony was ending, the families of the victims and the members of both the NYPD and FDNY walked off the ramp from Ground Zero and down the street where I was standing. In the crowd, we showed our gratitude by applauding them all as they walked by. It was similar to a parade, but much more serious. Seeing these grieving families helped me realized it wasn’t just “ordinary people” who died: they were parents, children, mentors, friends, role models, neighbors and contributors to society.
It’s one thing to watch all of these events on television, but it wasn’t until I was there, right in the middle of it all, that I was given a new perspective.
On the plane ride home the whole New York experience had fully absorbed into my mind. At that moment the tears came streaming down my face. I had one of the greatest experiences of my life.
Dan Phelps is the director of the Val R. Christensen Service Center. Comments can be sent to djphelps@cc.usu.edu