The memorial - well, I still don't like the design, with its abyss-like square into which the water drains. I wish it was more uplifting. But - I am happy it is there. I spoke with a volunteer who said that not too long ago, he was working the entrance to the memorial and was approached by a man in his 30's, who pointed to where people were going in and asked, "What's this? What's this all about?" The volunteer was incredulous.
"It's the 9-11 Memorial."
"Yeah, and what's that?"
Disgusted, the volunteer just looked at him and said, "Google it."
Some people think, "It's been 11 years - get over it!" No. September 11, 2001 should remain a day to reflect, mourn, and celebrate. Even in horror, there were flashes of humanity that illustrate the beauty of God's creation in man. I will never forget the image of people jumping . . . and holding hands while they did so. Even in their abject terror, people could still comfort one another.
If you visit, put down your camera and talk to the volunteers there. I spoke with one, and as it turns out, his aunt lived in my neighborhood in the Bronx. Small world. He was there because his brother was a firefighter in Pennsylvania. When 9-11 happened, his brother jumped in his car with his gear to help with the rescue/recovery effort. He made it all the way to New York City . . . and suffered a fatal heart attack before he could help. So this volunteer comes to do the job his brother did not get the chance to do.
Don't forget to thank them and the cops there, too.
Look at the picture above. I am happy to see the unborn are remembered.
Fr. Judge remains my hero today. A Catholic priest who had his own personal demons, but true to his vocation and possessing inordinate courage, he died in the towers with the firefighters he served as their chaplain. I will pray for him today, and ask that he pray for us for God to give us that spiritual courage he had.
It is good to see the workers building the new World Trade Center. It is activity, it is life.
See that pair of gloves? They belonged to one of the rescue/recovery workers. A woman, a complete stranger came up and wrote "thank you" on his glove. Any time he felt fatigue and despair taking over, he looked at his glove and was renewed.
It was hot and muggy when I went, and stepping out from an air-conditioned building, my lens was fogged up when I took the picture above. But I like it - it could be the soul of one of the everyday workers on that day, unknowingly stepping into eternity as he arrived for work.