The 9/11 of Birthdays

Now that 9/11 was 17 years ago, the pain and surprise of that day has somewhat faded. It'll never be gone, never. I had just turned 20 years old a few months before, and in many ways I consider the day of those attacks the turning point between childhood and adulthood. The day I realized that things don't always go according to plan. Lives don't always go according to plan.

I remember thinking for a long time that it would be terrible to have a birthday on 9/11. I wonder if that is the case anymore. For a kid born today, right this instant, 9/11 will be just another world event that their parents lived through. The way I consider Vietnam, perhaps. Paul himself was born on Pearl Harbor Day. When we talked about it last night, we called December 7  the 9/11 of the Greatest Generation.

And so we look at the same events through different lenses. What will be the defining event of our children's lives? If it's the 9/11 of the coming generation, I hope we don't find out for a long time.

9/11, 16 Years Later

I'm sure I wasn't the only one who spent a few minutes yesterday ruminating on 9/11. Sixteen years already? I was only 20 years old when it happened.

I've written before about where I was when I first heard about the terrorist attacks. What I thought a lot about yesterday, however, were the anniversaries that have occurred since then and the many reminders I've had about the attack.

When we lived in Brooklyn, Paul and I walked to the shore in Bay Ridge on the anniversary once or twice, watching the beams of light shoot forth where the twin towers used to stand. I worked just a couple of blocks from Ground Zero in Lower Manhattan and almost daily watched the progress at the World Trade Center site from 2007 until 2012. I visited the National September 11 Memorial when I was pregnant with Edith more than five years ago.

But now 9/11 seems almost like just another day. It'll never truly be that -- I remember the feelings and the images of that day all too well. But the TV specials, the memorials, the remembrances: they just aren't as all-consuming as they once were. We remember, though, and maybe that's enough.

Remembering 9/11

The articles and photos covered the newspaper on Sunday -- it was the 15th anniversary of the Sept. 11 terror attacks. I was surprised how the coverage moved me. The horror of the day will never really be gone.

I was in college when the attack occurred, on my way to a journalism workshop for Ohio State's student newspaper. Paul was studying abroad in Mexico. We had met earlier that summer. We would be married two years later.

Of course, we had no idea at the time that we would move to New York in 2007, just six years after the World Trade Center came down. When we relocated, it seemed like so much time had passed since 9/11. Looking back, it seems like our "new world" was just in its infancy.

I never truly felt in danger while we lived in New York, but the attacks were often on my mind. That's because I worked in Lower Manhattan just down the street from Ground Zero, and many of my co-workers had first-hand experiences of the towers toppling down. The feelings were raw. They probably always will be.

My oldest nephew was just one on that day, the others -- and our own kids, of course -- weren't even born. Strange to think that they'll look back on this day the same way my generation does Pearl Harbor Day -- with reverence but no personal connection. And hopefully the new generation will never experience a day even remotely equivalent.

9/11, Away from New York

I was so surrounded by 9/11 in New York that paradoxically it would have been easy to forget about the attacks if I wasn't careful. Yes, there were constant reminders, but they were so prevalent that they almost became a part of the scenery.

That's especially true in my case, since I didn't move to New York until 2007, more than six years after the attacks. By the time I got to really know the city, I could only imagine what the World Trade Center area must have looked like with the towers dwarfing the surrounding buildings.

The Freedom Tower climbed higher and higher on Ground Zero while we were there, but I'll largely remember the site as a construction zone. Not only that, but a construction zone that impacted my daily life, since I worked only a couple of blocks away and constantly saw the progress being made -- and the tourists who came to measure it.

Here I am back in Columbus, where I was during the 2001 attacks. But my thoughts are with my New York friends, friends of friends and former coworkers who have first-hand memories of this day 12 years ago. May Ground Zero never become just a part of New York City's backdrop.

What I Think About on 9/11

Yesterday was almost normal.

When I got off the subway just a few steps from Ground Zero, there were no crowds, no ceremony. A few extra police officers. Maybe a couple of extra people with cameras; it was difficult to tell. I looked back to catch a glimpse of 1 World Trade Center, but another building now blocks my view. I can only see the tip-top.

I can't remember the anniversary being mentioned at work, but there were certainly enough comments on my Facebook and Twitter feeds, friends remembering the day or sharing where they were 11 years ago.

But it's impossible for me to fit into only a few characters all of the things that run through my mind when I think about 9/11. Snapshots from the day, and even the night before.

I think about how my Mom accompanied me to Columbus the day before, since I had a daylong retreat for the student newspaper at my college on Sept. 11. We ate at Johnny Rockets, and I got some hairbands at Target.

I think about seeing my friend and roommate Allison the morning of September 11. We hadn't seen each other all summer. We drove to the retreat together. "Rockin' the Suburbs" was on the radio.

I think about the retreat that was cut short when we all heard the news. Allison and I first heard about it in the car, and I thought that it was certainly an accident.

I think about the silent car ride back to Ohio, when Mom and I listened to talk radio all the way home. I remember the long, long lines at the gas stations.

I think about how I didn't see any footage of the attacks until we were in Defiance that night. My eyes were glued to the TV until college started the next week.

I think about Mexico, where Paul had flown just a few days earlier to start his 10-week study abroad program. It was the last time I was able to go to an airport gate without a ticket.

I think about the victims. I simultaneously imagine and try not to their last moments.

And of course, I think about New York: now more than ever. Right after 9/11 occurred, I thought that not only would I never want to move to a big city, but that I would never want to fly ever again. But the city has moved forward. My co-workers, who smelled the acrid air and walked hours home that night, have moved forward.

As a country, I hope, we have all moved forward. But that doesn't mean we've forgotten. Especially when there's so much to remember.

Visiting the 9/11 Memorial

Despite the 9/11 Memorial having been open for more than six months -- and despite working so close that I could have visited during my lunch break -- I had never been until just last week. I figured that all of our upcoming visitors would want to see it. My Mom and Dad just happened to be the first since it was unveiled.

The memorial is free, but you do have to reserve tickets online for a given day and time. Ours were for 6:30 p.m. last Friday. Security was fast and surprisingly tight. Practically the only difference between it and an airport is that here, I could leave on my shoes.

The memorial is only partially completed; the museum isn't yet open and the expected 400 oak trees are far from fully grown. There are basically three things to see right now, and they are impressive: The Memorial North Pool, the Memorial South Pool and the Survivor Tree.

The pools feature infinity waterfalls -- it's impossible to see the very bottom -- surrounded by the names of each victim of the attacks, not just at the World Trade Center, but at the Pentagon and the other flights. Each name is carved into bronze and lit from below, creating what I'm sure must be a spectacular display when night falls.

The Survivor Tree is a pear tree that was planted at the World Trade Center plaza in the '70s that survived the attacks, albeit as an 8-foot stump. The tree was transferred to a city park, brought back to life and returned to the site.

Looking at the memorial now, it's difficult to believe that the very same area was a hub of activity just more than a decade ago. I'm eager to return to the 9/11 Memorial both at night and as more becomes open to the public.

Helicopter Above Ground Zero

At first the helicopter is difficult to see in the picture. It looks like a smudge, or a bug that landed on the camera lens.

Yes, it might be difficult to see, but it wasn't hard to hear that afternoon, even among all the Lower Manhattan hubbub after Osama bin Laden's death.

The TV cameras were on the ground capturing the reaction at Ground Zero, and I imagine this helicopter was doing the same from the air. A co-worker mentioned that it reminded him of 9/11 itself.

On this Memorial Day weekend, it seemed appropriate to remember.

The blog will be back on Wednesday.

World Trade Center Site, 9 Years Later

I'm almost ashamed to say that before this month I hadn't truly visited the World Trade Center site for two and a half years. Even then, I just stole some glances through covered fences. I hadn't taken a proper look from a viewing tower since 2003.

Not much has changed since then.

I have mixed feelings about the site. I work less than two blocks away, and I walk by it every day. I may never see the pit, but I see the cranes -- and the dozens of tourists angling for the best photo from the street.

It's safe to say that Sept. 11 affected all Americans, both practically (I have to get to the airport how early?) and emotionally (Just who are our enemies?). But Sept. 11 was a very personal experience for New Yorkers, many of whom don't have to count to six degrees before they're connected to someone who died in the attacks.

So I try not to gawk at the site. That being said, I was curious about how much progress had been made. When my aunt, uncle and cousins came to visit, we found a viewing platform, basically in a mall across the street from the site. It was a study in contrasts. On one side, the dirt and destruction where the towers once stood:


Look in the other direction, and you're in a beautiful shopping center with indoor trees, outdoor seating and what looked to be a view of the Hudson River.


Time moves on. I just wish progress on the site would too. Until then, I'll try my best to commemorate 9/11 and pay my silent respects.

Sept. 11 in the City

Working under what used to be the shadow of the World Trade Center towers, I'm confronted with reminders of 9/11 nearly everyday. Today, of course, those reminders were even more poignant.

I stopped at the 9/11 memorial ceremony for about 10 minutes as I walked from the subway to work. I could hear the names of the deceased being read one by one- the entire task was to take the entire morning. The streets were crowded but surprisingly calm. A Mennonite choir sang behind me.

Obama and McCain were supposedly at the ceremony, but it was impossible to get close enough to see anyone or anything. I couldn't even tell for sure where the stage was.

Police officers were everywhere, and it seemed like the bulk of their job was keeping tourists and city-dwellers alike from parading down closed-off streets. Unlike most days, today you couldn't get closer than a block or two from Ground Zero. I tried.

For tonight only, the twin towers of light again shoot skyward from the site of the center. Paul and I walked to Shore Promenade to see the beams against the city skyline. Only when we returned to our apartment did I realize we can also see them from our living room window.