Please tell us how you commemorated the tenth anniversary of 9/11. Where did you go? What did you do? How did you feel? What was the overall day like for you and what can you say about how New Yorkers responded to the anniversary?
Be prepared to describe your experience in class on Tuesday, Sept. 13.
Daisy Berisha
On the ten year anniversary of the terrorist attack on the World Trade Center, I sat down on my living room couch to watch a documentary called “Countdown to 9/11” on the History Channel. This documentary had me very emotionally attached to the characters, especially those survivors the documenters managed to interview. One of the of the stories they captured that especially struck me was of a Vietnam Veteran named Rick Rescorla, one of the deceased of 9/11, who was the Vice President of Security at the World Trade Center. It was mentioned time and time again in the documentary that Rescorla had known that the next terrorist attack on the united states after 1993 would be at the World Trade Center, and he is often noted as having “predicted 9/11”(History Channel documentary titled “The Man Who Predicted 9/11”). Rescorla will always be remembered in history as a hero for ultimately sacrificing his own life to save and evacuate thousands of people from the south tower before it collapsed.
Overall, this day was very melancholy and solemn. It went by quietly, no one feeling really comfortable playing any music or laughing too loudly. Flipping through the news channels, I saw live coverage of many memorials and commemoration ceremonies taking place and it gave me a sort of ambiguous feeling, as if I didn’t know whether to feel happy that New Yorkers took the time out to present speeches of commemoration, or sadness at the fact that so many names from so many different backgrounds were being recited with the knowledge that they, who were all loved dearly, are now dead. Watching the memorial fountain’s waters being pushed by the wind, casting shadows as it descended into a pool, I noticed that it eerily resembled ghosts moving along it’s walls. It was beautiful to watch as the names were being recited, pretending every shadow was that of a loved one long lost.
9/11 was infinitely tragic for so many people. Those who lost family and friends that day suffered and continue to suffer the most. Because lives were lost and ruined 9/11 is a day that must be remembered, especially by New Yorkers. Ten years after the event people still grieve, however we have a divine ability to move forward with our lives.
Yesterday to commemorate those who were affected by 9/11 I, along with about 8 of my classmates, participated in Hand in Hand presented by Community Board 1. Our task was simple enough, we were to meet in lower Manhattan, form a human chain, and remain silent for a few short minutes. Yet the simplicity of our actions bore a world of implications. Yesterday’s hand-holding implies that we still remember, we still care, we still grieve, we still love the two towers and everyone who died that day. It also implied that there is strength and unity in the city; there’s hope and growth. In my opinion the ceremony was beautiful even though it was so short.
To be honest at the end of the event I remember feeling a little disconnected because I was so young when we were attacked and can’t remember much of the event. I also remember wondering if Hand in Hand even served its purpose (Reflect. Remember. Unite.) because it was so short but in retrospect I think it did. Later in the day we walked through Battery Park and saw the flag of honor display which I loved because it recognized that each life was significant and no one was forgotten. I remember my classmate pointing out to me “Others” at the end of the flag and feeling that the “others” were the white spaces in between the blue and red.
National Unity was a prevailing theme in the city yesterday. We also walked by a board that had messages of hope remembrance, and unity on index cards. I was surprised to see the number of people who had written on the board from different states. We also posted our own thoughts with the expectation that maybe someone else will see it and feel encouraged. I’m really grateful I had the opportunity to participate in the commemoration of 9/11 ten years later. I’m glad that other people acknowledged the significance of today and also participated.
I woke up at eleven o’clock on 9/11/11 and turned on the television. Almost every news station was broadcasting a live feed from ground zero. I heard Paul Simon sing his famous song, Sound of Silence, which has both personal importance to him and meaning to those who were there. After he finished singing, people continued reading aloud the names of the victims who died on 9/11. I tuned in when they were on the letter L. The process continued for many hours. While the people were reading the names, the news stations had the name of the person displayed at the bottom of the screen. Next to each person’s name was a photo, if one was available. The experience was very personal because the people who were reading the names had suffered a loss on that day. I remember a ten year old boy read the name of his father, who died when he was still in his mother’s womb. The ceremony reminded me about the Young reading that discussed how the dead of 9/11 should be commemorated. I believe that the process of reading out the names of all three thousand people who died puts the magnitude of the event into perspective and makes death toll seem less removed and statistical. I tuned in too late to see former President George W. Bush and President Barack Obama speak at ground zero, but it was a kind gesture of them to speak. When I went outside, in Morningside Heights, I noticed that the police had cordoned off a part of Riverside Drive. It was probably a precautionary measure taken against the “credible” terrorist threat the government discovered approximately one week ago. Additionally, there was an event at St. John the Divine cathedral that honored the police and firefighters who died. I could tell it commemorated them because the men walking out to the tune of bag-pipes were dressed in their honorary police and FDNY apparel. Overall, the memorial was heartfelt and touching in New York. This was the first time I actually watched the name reading process. It was scary to imagine if I was there reading the name/names of people close to me who died ten years ago, today.
What I did on 9-11
It was a tense moment for me but I finally decided to go to downtown. My roommates at the dorm warned of an unconfirmed terror plot was mentioned on the news a few days ago but I heeded the warnings and went anyway. I came to battery park and started to walk around. I noticed that there were hundreds of American flags dotting the park. I walked around a bit and decided to investigate these flags. At closer inspection I realized there were letters on it. Letters that created words, words that were names, names of people who died during 9-11. It was a sticking moment. I was silent. There were just so many names! I know that over 2500 people died on 9-11 but you can’t appreciate the actual amount until something represents it like all the names placed on flag with maybe 2500 flags flying. After walking around this memorial I did try to enter ground zero but naturally it was closed off. I thought it ridiculous that there were police in full riot gear and holding machine guns guarding the entrances (its as if they were expecting an invasion). I did get close (it was in the morning) enough to ground zero to actually hear the names being read of those who died on that “faithful” day. Out of no where, I got so emotional realizing that these are real people who died (because before I never really felt a connection with them. I thought of them as a tragic statistic.) . I couldn’t take it anymore and finally left the sight. All in all, I felt that the experience of going downtown was a humble one. Most were carrying an American flag or wearing one on a shirt and everyone seemed to come a little more together.
For the tenth anniversary of 9/11 I went to take part in “Hand in Hand Remembering 9/11” where people gathered to hold hands along the waterfront in lower Manhattan. It was 7:45 am when I arrived to meet 8 of my classmates who were also taking part. At first the crowd around the registration both was small and I suspected that this event would not have many participants. However, the closer I got to the event, the more I saw the importance of this event. The small crowd turned into a human chain that lined the harbor for as far as I could see.
When the bell rang and it was time to hold hands, everyone grew quiet. Even people who were not part of the chain stopped to stare and take pictures. It became clear that this event was much more powerful than I had anticipated. At first I thought the event as a good gesture to show victims and survivors of 9/11 that the community recognizes them and wishes them well. Actually being part of this human chain made me see how strongly we feel for those in our community who suffered from that day and what people can accomplish as a whole.
In commemoration of September 11th, 2001, I visited the memorial dedicated to the 15 people in my town who died in the tragic event. The memorial itself was erected several years ago in the town center. It consists of a gazebo surrounded by a garden. Inside the gazebo, I was first struck by the stark display of the names of the deceased and their signatures below. Seeing their signatures somehow made me feel connected to them, as if I knew them personally. What was also heartbreaking was seeing the dozens of bouquets of flowers brought by loved ones of the dead all placed around the gazebo. It helped me to better understand how even the lives of people in my small town were irrevocably altered by this day and how much meaning this anniversary has for them. I attended one of the many small ceremonies held at the memorial where a local reverend gave an invocation, a moment of silence was held, the names of the dead were read, and God Bless America was sung. While the ceremony was quite simple, it was touching and helped make this day more meaningful and special for me.
In addition to attending the ceremony, this morning, I watched a special program on A&E called “102 Minutes that Changed America.” This program certainly gave the day more meaning for me. It consisted of footage of the morning of the attack: when the planes hit, when the firefighters went into the buildings, when people were evacuating, when the first tower fell, when people began fleeing, when the second tower fell…. Because I was only six when this happened, I did not appreciate the gravity of the event– it looked more like an action movie than real life. I can honestly say that I didn’t truly understand the magnitude and horror of this day until I watched this program. Seeing the towers collapsing on TV, while traumatic, is just too surreal to be fully comprehended no matter what your age. However, this program was different. There was a cameraman who captured footage of firefighters entering the towers and the radio conversations between the firefighters were played as well. The firefighters climbed the stairs and for a long while, all was calm and there were no signs of fire. It was not until the men reached the 78th floor that chaos broke out. The firefighter on the radio kept yelling out that there were injured people, that they needed backup, and that they were on the 78th floor in the south tower. It was very scary to imagine what was going on up there as the camera displayed the burning tower. The most horrifying parts were when the cameramen captured the towers falling and the huge clouds of dirt that consumed the city. People were terrified as this massive cloud of debris and smoke headed towards them, and I felt as if I was a part of the crowd. In the aftermath of the collapse, everything was covered in soot– the streets, cars, buildings, and people. It was absolute chaos. Suddenly, the city turned into this wasteland. People, whose faces were covered in masks or cloth, wandered north with no specific destination except for far away from the towers. Some were panicked, some crying, some in a haze, and some strangely calm. There were no cars, buses, or open stores. A layer of soot covered everyone, and the cameras captured scenes of those who collapsed after breathing in too much dust, and one man who got hit by debris. The fear was palpable. No one knew what the cause of this attack was or whether this was the end or not. Some reacted with anger and commented that we should go into the Middle Eastern countries and kill everyone. Others were too confused and upset to comment. This documentary captured the unspeakable horrors of the tragic day and gave me a new appreciation for those who were present on that day, for those who risked their lives to fight the fire, evacuate the towers, and tend to the sick and wounded, for those who lost their lives, and for those who lost the life of a loved one.
Overall, attending the ceremony and watching the documentary gave this day so much more meaning for me. Even though I was not in New York in 2001, I can still sympathize with those who were in New York on that day and with those who lost someone.
[WORDPRESS HASHCASH] The poster sent us ‘1567507289 which is not a hashcash value.
On sunday, my mother made me promise her that I would not ride the subway or go anywhere near downtown for that matter. I obeyed her understandable request and ended up watching 9/11 related youtube videos all day. Now, I know this sounds like a cop out, but it really did become a commemorative experience. I watched footage of the towers collapsing over and over again, attempting to relive the horror. I think I thought that if I watched enough times, I would be struck with some sort of understanding. It’s been ten years since, after all. Maybe now that I’m older I will see the whole episode differently that I had before. That was wrong. Fear still overcame. Death, like the ash, still became the sky and choked and blinded and conquered. I still couldn’t comprehend. What I did see differently, though, was the relief effort. The relief effort seemed, after all this time, as the pinnacle moment of that day. After all the destruction, we, human beings, stood up and continued to fight for our existence. Together, we pushed on.
Also, I watched to footage of Paul Simon singing “The Sound of Silence.” Holy crap, this was so applicable to the attacks I almost had a heart attack. Is he a prophet!? “When my eyes were stabbed by the flash of a neon light that split the night and touched the sounds of silence.” That freakin’ eerie.
[WORDPRESS HASHCASH] The poster sent us ‘219914796 which is not a hashcash value.
Jordan, I can totally relate. My parents kept checking on me to make sure I hadn’t gone to the city on Sunday
On 9/11, I watched a show on the internet called “102 minutes that changed America,” using the history channel website. The interactive website listed videos that shot live from nearby areas like World Trade Center 5 and Gateway Plaza all the way to Midtown Time Square. The videos showed different perspectives of the attack, from news reporters to college students in NYU dorms facing WTC. In my opinion, Caroline Dries’ video from NYU dorms affected me the most. Seeing the video shot from a college student’s perspective, I saw the sheer panic that the attack inflicted on nearby communities of younger people. Although the video was not extremely close to the attack site, it still showed the real horror experienced as it zoomed onto people who jumped down from the buildings in order to avoid death due to burning. Seeing people jump down, I thought that I would do the same should I be in a similar situation because death by heart attack while in free-fall is much better than getting crushed under the weight of the building or burning to death. After seeing the chilling experience shot by Dries,’ I realize that the old saying, “a picture is worth a thousand words,” ring true because of the effect of the video. The readings were never able to describe the fear when people were all evacuating in other high-rise buildings fearing attacks. In order to see the present, I watched the News on Guardian that gave highlights of the memorial opened. While president Bush’s and Obama’s addresses were helping the people, the real emotion of sadness was reflected in the people who were tearing up due to the loss of loved ones. Taking number plates, coins, buttons, and other memories, the New Yorkers at the memorial reflected the deaths of their loved ones, and the exposed the agonizing sorrow of losing a loved one in terms of the attack. With this, I realized that the people who suffered loss were brave men and women, who have made peace with the ones they lost because they did not retaliate against others for their sorrow much like what has been done on a national scale.
I had a perfect plan: participate in Hand in Hand on Saturday morning, watch New York Philharmonic perform Mahler’s Symphony No.2 on the same night, and serve the underprivileged the next morning, all in commemoration of 9/11. It was too perfect of a plan that it had to fail.
On Thursday, I found out that I was no longer able to contribute to the betterment of the society on Sunday as the places had already been filled up. I wasn’t too concerned because I knew I still had two events to attend. On Friday, I spontaneously decided to stay overnight at my friend 1’s place. This disabled me from attending the handholding event early in the morning. Yes, this was my fault, but I was seeing him for the first time after more than a year! There was only one more commemorative event left: a free New York Philharmonic concert, the most anticipated yet the least promising of all.
Unfortunately, Friend 2, who was supposed to accompany me to the performance showed up late for “acceptable” reasons. (No, it was not acceptable. He made me miss the concert. There is no excuse for that.) By the time we arrived at the Lincoln Center, all the tickets, including outside seatings, were taken. I was utterly heart-broken. Maybe I should have camped outside Lincoln Center. Yes, this was definitely my fault. What was I thinking. I really should have camped outside Lincoln Center.
I ended up strolling around Central Park with Friend 2, constantly worrying what I was going to write about on the blog and how else I was going to commemorate 9/11. Then, I saw the Towers of Light from the distance. Was it the cloudy night sky that made me momentarily melancholy, or was it the fact that it was the eve of 9/11? A decade ago, innocent people, innocent workers, innocent parents, innocent daughters and sons of innocent parents were killed in the very city was standing in. I realized remembrance didn’t have to be in form of an elaborate public event. As long as I remembered their undeserved deaths, as long as I felt something, they were commemorated, at least by me. Perhaps, the deceased will appreciate my way of commemorating them.
The next day, I saw a number of people on the street with 9/11 commemoration badges on their shirts. And, just the fact that I was not able to attend those events indicates that there were tons of other New Yorkers out there who were more informed and more enthusiastic in remembering the lost. Although the rest of the world pictures New Yorkers as highly individualistic, self-driven beings, I know that they are, in fact, secretive supporters of one another.
Hansol,
I hope you don’t blame yourself. Sometimes plans just don’t work out and you still did find ways to commemorate 9/11.
Saturday morning began with the sound of the eventual alarm at 6 a.m. Like eight other Macaulay students, I was going down to Battery Park to take part in the Hand-in-Hand memorial. We all flung ourselves out of the comforts of our own homes to stand for multiple minutes in silence clasping the hands of either a stranger or a friend. Together we stood and the effect was much more than I expected. Standing along a nature-filled bank of the city, I could sense the profundity of the event as the wind tussled my hair. We were standing in maintained purposeful silence. Like many other events in the city, people were to pause and reflect on the events that had happened only a decade ago. Over the past few years, I sat in my high school class on 9/11 in silence and waited for the lesson to begin. However in this case, I stood in silence without having to force myself to do so. It felt just right.
As the event proceeded, people stopped to photograph the chain of people. I was no longer an individual; I was a link in a chain connected the people of New York.
Unfortunately the event had ended abruptly and I felt shell-shocked. After moments of silence, we let go of each others hands and the tamed voices were heard once again. Each of us stood in our own little silence bubble for a couple of minutes until we were truly brought back to reality. Overall, the event brought me home to the trauma of 9/11, but connected New Yorkers in a long chain of thought.
On September 11, I watched the news over coffee with my friend’s family. Since my friend’s mother doesn’t understand English, we watched the Spanish news. The channel simultaneously played the American channel as well the interviews being conducted on the Spanish channel, where families of the lost ones read out the names of the victims. Even with the language barrier, I felt that I was able to understand and feel the pain that they were describing. Upon first sight of the memorial, I thought of Young and the trees that he wanted to plant. I thought the fountain with the newly grown trees surrounding the memorial was just right.
Afterwards, I went to Bryant Park. 2,753 chairs were placed on the lawn, all facing the direction of where the World Trade Center once stood. There was a public art project called “Collective Memory,” in which people could stop and sit down to type up a response to what we would like to world to remember about 9/11 on the typewriter sitting in the middle of the upper terrace. I read some of the responses through the glass while waiting for my turn, and I was really moved by some of the messages that were left. It was heart warming to see that amongst all the busy people in New York City, there were still many who were willing to wait and leave their hopes in the glass box.
On last Saturday, I participated Hand in Hand event with some of my classmates to commemorate those who lost their lives by the horrible attack 10 years ago. When we registered for it, we all got white T-shirts with a picture of twin towers and hands holding together on it. All wearing the white shirts, we formed a long white line along the coastline by holding hands together. After forming a line, we had a short time to remember the tragedy and commemorate the victims in silence. In the line, I took an old lady’s hand, and I felt her hand was shaking. She was crying in the silence. By holding her shaking hand, I, who learned about 9/11 in a television news program and was not related to it like any other New Yorkers, could feel a part of sorrow of the old lady, who might, I guess, experienced the horrible tragedy in her real life. Also, when I saw the long line of people wearing all white shirts and holding hands together, I learned that sharing sorrows together united people from different nations and generations.
On 9/11, I joined my fellow Macaulay Lehman classmates in the Hand in Hand tribute for the tenth anniversary. People of different ages and races came together in Lower Manhattan to form a human chain where we held hands and faced the people walking by. It was like showing our unity despite the situation. Everyone was respectful of the silence even the boats bobbing on the water surface. At this precise moment, everything was still. I was surprised by the number of people that showed up early in the morning even though we have been affected by the tragedy differently and at different times of our lives. The part of the day that held onto me was the witness of the wall of comments that allowed passerby to post a comment on what they feel about the decade after 9/11. I was touched by the phrase “never forget” which was used frequently in different languages and by different people. The wall had some international presence than its physical location in lower Manhattan. Right behind the wall was Battery Park transformed into a memorial with thousands of flags lined up displaying the victims in the American flag colours. The flags really captured the essence of the day because each flag flew nicely in the wind on a green patch of earth which can symbolize allowing the peace to resonate from Manhattan into all four corners of the world. New Yorkers in general were respectful in that they observed the tokens of remembrance in silence and carefully read the words displayed or the names of the victims. The silence was as loud as the words spoken within each and everyone’s thoughts.
[WORDPRESS HASHCASH] The poster sent us ‘2012457174 which is not a hashcash value.
For the entire weekend I spent my time at work and at home. I chose not to watch the news in order to avoid listening to the same things being said over and over. I already knew that inspections at checkpoints were being carried out and terrorist scares were at an all time high for the year. The media did not have to tell me what I was living. Disconnected from the rest of the world I thought I would watch a movie about 9/11 or maybe even a documentary. While sitting in my room I remembered a documentary I had created with my humanities class in the eighth grade based on conspiracy theories, one of which was about 9/11. I dug through some old CDs and DVDs I had in a drawer and found it to watch.
It has been hard for me to connect with those who mourn someone or loss of the twin towers. As articulated simply by Mary Lee Hannell, “It’s not a club you can join, it’s not a club you want to join, but it’s a club you’re in, or you’re not. If you’re not in the club, people don’t want you asking questions and pretending to be in the club. You’re not in the club.” I know I am not a part of the club and for this reason I do not feel so attached to 9/11 personally. As a countrywoman I stand against what happened and sympathize with all who are mourning and commemorating
I was at church last Sunday celebrating a special mass for the victim and survivors of 9/11. One of the songs that we sang during mass had the lyrics “We remember, we celebrate, we believe”. I remember being particularly affected by those words because I added onto the lyrics making it “we remember the past, we celebrate the present, we believe in the future”.
The quote I just randomly made up really struck a tone with me. The survivors reminisce about that past every day of their lives; maybe they still carry some hatred. I wonder whether they truly appreciate each moment they have right now; maybe they regret being the ones who survived. And most importantly of all, is there is a hope that we can all look towards the future and see a stronger NYC.
In order to commemorate 9/11, a couple of my peers and I went to the waterfront in Lower Manhattan for an event called “Hand-in-Hand”. We all had to hold hands with each other (and the rest of the attendees) at 8:46am, the moment that the north tower was hit.
As we stood near the waterfront holding hands, I had closed my eyes to pray and to think a bit about what had happened 10 years ago. Alison was standing to my left and Rebekah was standing to my right. When I had first begun to hold their hands, Alison’s hand had been warm and Rebekah’s had been cold. It was such a strange moment as I felt Rebekah’s hand turn just as warm as Alison’s; it made me think of how not so different we all are. Maybe there is still hope for strength.
For 9/11, I decided to go and hold hands for hand in hand by the Hudson River (on Saturday). I woke up at around 6:40 in the morning, rode my bike over to their tent (it was behind Stuyvesant High School). I obtained a shirt and was told that I was supposed to go to the red zone (I think it was D, but I’m not sure). I then rode my bike over to the beginning of the zone. This was followed by the realization that I arrived an hour and a half early. So I waited for about an hour (most of which I spent lying on a bench). We then were moved further south, so I had to unlock my bike, ride it over to another place to leave it, and lock it again.
When we actually held hands, I really didn’t know what to think. 9/11 was an event that changed the course of history. 10 years later it still feels incomprehensible in many ways. I went to the giant bulletin board in Battery Park later that day, and I didn’t know what to write. I reflected on what happened and ultimately decided to say that I hoped the love and togetherness of the community never dies (I really do). The next day I was pretty overworked so the actual day didn’t feel like it had much significance.
[WORDPRESS HASHCASH] The poster sent us ‘2012457174 which is not a hashcash value.
10 minutes before the bell.
I rushed towards the other Macaulay students standing nearby the harbor’s railing. North Cove Marina teemed with many civilians passing by on the Saturday morning. Runners, couples, and little children climbing out of their strollers enjoyed the Hudson River scenery. A large number of them wore white T-shirts with a red heart centered between two blue towers. “Reflect. Remember. Unite.” was the message etched upon the back of each shirt, and I carried the same upon mine. I observed the coordinators shepherding the crowd while the people continued in their casual talks. 10 minutes passed as though it was a typical day.
The bell rang.
People of many kinds clasped their hands with each other, forming a chain extending down the Marina. One hand was warm in mine. Another was cold. Voices died down one by one like dominos as the moment of silence began to form. And with backs turned towards the water, the participants watched passing New Yorkers stop and take pictures, capturing a moment where strangers linked with strangers as though they were familiar.
Reflect.
It was as though the city stopped but a different silence played. The sound of shattering waves, the sight of shimmering leaves, and the smell of moist air crisped in yellow sunlight filled my senses as a slow symphony. It was as though the surrounding played a dirge dedicated to the moment. My heart felt as though others and I joined in the performance alongside the wind, trees, and the river, and I contemplated in this short time that was blessed beyond words.
Remember.
If the city itself- the inanimate buildings and the residing nature- could feel like a human being, and if the city carried the same will as its inhabitants, then certainly it makes sense for the city to feel like us. The memory of the falling towers must have resonated throughout the chain and New York City. The ripple of the remembrance must have tuned the two as one being experiencing the same- the unexplainable tragic emotion touched by sorrow, grief, and emptiness. But as one’s tears became another, the motive to move forward becomes unanimous as well. This was how I felt when remembering my place at that time.
Unite.
With this thought, the warm and the cold hands felt the same. I heard a man announcing the end of the moment. The chain broke into scattered individuals embracing another, beaming smiles upon the ones nearby. The city resumed its usual tempo once more, and the surrounding fell back into their transfixed state. An epiphany of change dawned at that moment: a sense of unity was forged and remained invisibly connected.
Yesterday was the tenth anniversary of 9/11 and just like every other person in New York it was a day of solemn and sorrow. In commemoration for all the lives that were lost on that day ten years ago, I decided to have a mental day to myself to reflect on how lucky I am as a person to be alive and how fragile life really is. I went to a few small memorials around where I live. Seeing people mourning over their lost loved ones made this real. What seemed to me before as an act of terrorism long ago that didn’t really impact me suddenly seemed so surreal and recent. I thought about all the lives lost in that single day. Not just any lives, but innocent neighbors, New Yorkers, workers, and people from all over the world who were effected by these attacks.
I decided to watch a documentary on youtube called “loose change,” to better understand my knowledge of this day. This documentary gave insight and the idea that the attacks of 9/11 were a United States government conspiracy. It was bizarre to me what I had seen on this documentary, because all of the clues led to a controlled demolition of the twin towers. On top of that, flight 93 and the plane that hit the pentagon were not found and “disintegrated” on impact, which makes absolutely no sense to me. This documentary made me really that there was something fishy going on here and people were hiding information to the American public.
Regardless of why these attacks happened and who did it, the most important thing for me was to commemorate all the lives that were lost. Any way you look at it, 9/11 was a tragedy that affected people all around the world, especially in New York. These lives will always live through the hearts of their loved ones, and it is important that as a society we rebuild and grow from here, and take nothing for granted.
For the morning of Saturday September 10th, the First Manhattan Community Board organized Hand-in-Hand, a commemorative event for the 10th anniversary of the attacks. I stood along the Manhattan waterfront along with various other classmates, and at approximately the same time the first plane hit the North Tower a decade ago, all those present held hands and stood in silence in a gesture of remembrance. In that moment, it felt like time somehow stood still although there was still plenty of movement around us.
Although I attempted to think and reflect on the enormity of the events and their aftermath, the moment of silence was much too short, and just as soon as the hundreds of people present came to a stop in their conversations, they resumed them. I remember feeling happy to have taken part, but also with a feeling that true honoring had not properly taken place.
Later that same day, as we walked through Battery Park we witnessed the flags that were both made up from the names and raised in honor of those who perished. There had also been a remembrance wall erected where people could come and leave a message for others to read. Messages were written in many different languages and said many different things; Some spoke of particular person’s who’d been lost but many spoke from an outsiders point of view and simply wished for peace for those who’d died and also for those who remained behind. It was these that made me feel better about what I’d done and reminded me that small gestures mattered equally as much as larger ones.
“As we were running out, you were running in.” For the tenth anniversary of 9/11 I watched a short documentary about the firefighters involved in 9/11. Three hundred and forty-three noble firefighters passed away on 9/11. It was directed and made by a fireman so the perspective was very touching and real. It was centered on one man who survived 9/11. This firefighter Tommy had to deal with survivor’s guilt because right as they were heading to the attacks he switched with another fireman and drove the truck, while he went in. That firefighter he switched with, Brian, passed away.
This documentary really spoke to me because of the perspective and the incredible sense of unity, courage, and honor you get from the firefighters. I learned an incredible amount about firefighters and have a newfound respect for each and every one of them. What I find so incredible is that they do not think twice abut risking their lives daily for others it comes as second nature to them.